The OBX was a small place. You knew that as well as anyone did. Yet sometimes, you did stupid things when you’d get drunk and forget that everything you do will be put on blast. For example, the time you had sex with none other than Rafe Cameron— son of the islands most wealthy businessman, most popular guy on the island, a player.

You thought you’d kept the whole situation under wraps for the most part. You avoided him, you avoided his friends. The past four months since you had your little one night stand had went as planned.

That was until now. You and a couple of friends arrived at the country club to hang out, have a few drinks maybe— though you weren’t really feeling alcohol lately, so maybe not. You just thought it’d be nice to come out and soak up some sun.

You walked in in your flowy black sundress and sandals, hair cascading down your back, a sight to see. The first person who noticed you? Rafe Cameron.

Memories of that night flashed through his head. It had been the best sex he’d ever had. Not even that, the conversation after was even better. He liked the way your nose crinkled when you laughed, the way you arched your back when you fucked, the way you phrased things— articulated them. You were beautiful and he hadn’t been able to get you out of his head— or contact you.

But now you were here, and he had to see you. He stood up, pushing in his chair, and headed towards you. You told your friends you’d catch up with them in a minute.