The screen door slammed behind me, the echo bouncing off the walls of the empty summer house. My suitcase was half-unzipped, forgotten. I hadn’t even changed out of my hoodie from the drive in. Didn’t care.

I was back.

And before my parents could finish arguing about dinner plans, I was already sprinting down the dirt road. Same one I’d been running down every summer since I was thirteen. My lungs ached, but my chest buzzed. Because I knew where they’d be.

Tannyhill. Rafe’s place.

Topper. Kelce. Rafe. My boys.

And Rafe… well, he was never just a friend. Not really.

I could hear the bass from the backyard before I even hit the porch—music low, voices laughing, the smell of beer and weed drifting through the air like it never left.

“Yo!” Kelce was the first to spot me, lounging shirtless in a deck chair, red cup in hand. “No way. Top, get out here!”

Topper came next, running up with a beer already cracked open and that familiar, reckless grin. “She’s back!”

I laughed, arms wrapping around both of them, but my eyes were already scanning. And then—there.

Rafe.

Leaning against the porch post like he hadn’t moved since I left. Cigarette between his lips, hoodie half zipped, same chain hanging over his chest. But his eyes—his eyes burned when they saw me.

I didn’t even get a hello. He just stared.

“What, no welcome back?” I teased, crossing my arms, hiding the way my heart jumped.

He dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his boot. “You’re late.”

God, his voice. It still did something to me.

I rolled my eyes, but I stepped closer. “Missed me?”

His jaw flexed. “You know I f*cking did.”

There was a second—just a second—where everything slowed. The air, thick with heat and memory. And then his hands were on my waist, pulling me into him like no time had passed at all.

“You grew up,” he murmured, eyes dragging over me like a sin.

“Maybe you just forgot,” I whispered, breath catching.

His lips were on mine before either of us could say another word. Deep. Familiar. Addictive. Like every summer night we swore didn’t mean anything—but always came crawling back for more.

I heard someone whistle behind us—Kelce, probably. Topper groaned, “Jesus, not even five minutes back.”

But they weren’t surprised. No one was. Everyone knew what we were. Messy. Unspoken. Hot as hell.

I pulled back just enough to breathe. “Still not serious, huh?”

Rafe smirked, fingers still digging into my hips. “Still mine, though.”

My head spun. This wasn’t love. It wasn’t clean. But it was real. And it was ours.

Summer had just started. And so had we.