Rafe Cameron had been most of your firsts.

First kiss, first time, first serious relationship.

But it didn’t change the fact that you were from different sides of the island, that you were in different groups. It didn’t change that you were friends with the pogues and he was very kook.

Being in your friends treasure hunts broke you two apart. Two opposing teams and all that.

The two of you had agreed to break up, that didn’t make it hurt any less and you both spiraled in your own ways.

He threw himself into work, and moved on way too quickly to Sofia. You… became a party girl. You were single, and you were never a party girl before that, so this was your chance.

It ended quickly, though. 2 months after your party girl routine started, you hooked up with Jeremy Kemper. And got knocked up.

Jeremy told you he didn’t want to be involved, and you honestly didn’t fight him on it. He was a player, a pogue, and probably wouldn’t’ve been the best father figure for your baby.

So you did it alone, with the pogues, and you made it work. They were the best aunts and uncles your little girl could ask for.

Now, she was 10 months old, and her favorite thing was the beach, her least favorite was when you’d stop her from eating the sand.

You, your daughter, and the pogues spent a lot of time at the beach when you weren’t working at your shop, helping your daughter build sandcastles and look at the tiny critters.

It was a Tuesday, and it was just you and your little girl at the beach today, the others doing whatever with the shop.

You adjusted your daughter’s hat, keeping the sun out of her face as she sat between your legs, a plastic shovel in her hand as she mindlessly dug.

Rafe was watching from the nearby pier, his truck parked by the road. His blue eyes were glued to your daughter, envy filling his chest. He shouldn’t be jealous, you weren’t his, you hadn’t been for a long time. He had Sofia now.

But a part deep inside him couldn’t stop from feeling that way, from thinking that he should be the one who knocked up. That he should be sitting beside the two of you as your daughter played in the sand.

He slowly walked closer, his hand running over his buzzcut, the other in his pocket.

“Cute kid.” he spoke, gaining your attention as a small sound of surprise left your lips.

It’d been over a year since the two of you last talked.