Rafe was basically the king of the OBX. Everyone bowed down to him. Every girl wanted him, but he was out of all of their leagues. And he was a cocky bastard, so he knew that. He was richer, hotter, and overall just better than all the people at this goddamn party— a party at his best friend Topper’s house full of trust fund kids and the occasional Pogue that snuck in, all irrelevant.

That was until you walked through the door. The first thing he noticed? Those eyes. He’d never seen eyes like that— so… magnetic. Then he noticed the confidence, the allure you just exuded as you walked into the party— a party full of people you hardly knew, yet everyone knew you.

You were the only person who had him beat. Money? You had twelve times as much as him, your dad owns the biggest hotel chain in the country for Christ's sake. Looks? You were a smoke show. Perfect face, perfect body, but not basic. Just so utterly you. Popularity? You won that too, that was clear even just based on the gossip as you entered the room. He didn’t fail to notice how everyone’s eyes landed on you. Even Topper’s— his eyes trailing down your body, focusing on your ass, which for some reason angered Rafe (and made him look too, and damn).

“Who’s she?” Rafe asked, leaning against the wall and blowing out smoke from his blunt.

“You seriously don’t know? She’s like, all anyone’s talking about right now. Ever since she landed on the island,” Topper replied.