Twin Flames ❤️🔥 Part 8: Crooked Love In a Straight Line
Series Masterlist
Part 8 Soundtrack
Summary: "It was no shock or surprise that Rafe was your lifeline. He always had been, since the very first night. But you’d often wondered what it was you did for him. How your chaos and turbulence could all be worth it to him."
Warnings: 18+ only!!! Cursing, alcohol, heavy intoxication, mentions of drug use, family tension, fighting, mentions of blood (slight), suggestive language, smut (towards the end)
Word Count: 9.2k
Notes: holy mother of god I cannot believe it’s taken me this long—I’m so fucking excited to finally be done with this! I’ve been looking at it so long I was starting to hate it. Pretty sure this might in fact be the first smut I ever wrote for TF 🥲 One of many big reveals happens! I’ve had this idea thought of and written for so long, it’s cool to see it come to life finally. (more to come on that…) FYI: You meet a new face in Part 9, maybe even 2 😇 enjoy, love you forever and let me know what you think!!!! Lastly, I feel like I may have missed adding people to the taglist, plz lmk if I did!!!!
A palpable change could be felt in the air over the coming weeks as an excited, frenzied spirit overtook the entire Kildare Island by storm.
You’d spent enough time on this island to be well acclimated to the social events and norms that took precedent nearly each week. Yet nothing could hold a flame to the literal chokehold currently placed on every single Figure 8 resident as the next looming yearly Kook event approached further.
That nervous energy had carried over to a certain ocean eyed, “Kook King” currently sitting across from you at the Island Club.
Rafe wasn’t even really eating, basically just toying the food around his plate, unable to stomach much until he finally asked his burning question.
You didn’t miss the way his eyes scanned over you expectantly every few seconds since the moment you sat down nor the way he kept fidgeting with the watch in his left wrist as he looked as though he were internally debating something important.
It took only one single meaningful glance at him, eyebrow quirked out of curiosity to get Rafe’s lips to open and the words to fall out. They catch you off guard all the same.
“Will you go to Midsummers with me?”
Your face scrunched in confusion, this is what had him on edge throughout all of lunch?
“The club event thing?”
Your mind flashes back, remembering pictures you’d seen of Rafe from last year in that pale blue suit that always made your insides squirm and your face heat up. He only nodded his head providing no further explanation to his request. You’d been to dozens of events this summer already, from charity dinners to galas to important luncheons— you name it. Yet not a single one permitted the necessary of a date.
Let alone that necessity of YOU being Rafe’s date.
“Is that the kind of thing you bring a date to?”
Rafe bites back his laugh at the question, the grand gesture of bringing a date to midsummers and its insinuation to the entire Figure Eight community totally lost on you.
She has no idea…
“Yes, it’s the kind of thing you bring dates to, Y/N”.
He offers you a warm smile as the air buzzes between the two of you.
Surely you had to feel that too, right?
Rafe can barely handle the look you shoot him, your whole face lighting up at your next words.
“You’re asking me out on a date…?”
Your voice fades into soft wonder. While your question may be rhetorical, he realizes in that moment how truly alike you are in that way— how similar the two of you can be. He wonders if you even realize you’re doing it? How you need to hear him say it, how the words themselves need to validate it for you. The exact same as he’s repeatedly asked of you.
He doesn’t miss the gulp you take when he replies with a confident “Yes”, trying to appear full of nothing but patience as his leg begins to shake under the table.
When your mouth starts to fall open, Rafe goes into full panic mode.
“I’ve taken you out on dates before, Y/N/N…” he scoffs with a laugh to let you know he’s trying to play along.
“Well yeah, no shit— but none of them had you sweating through your shirt just by—”
Your breath catches when you look up at him to see the vulnerability overshadow his facial features. Your playfulness, meant to lighten the room, tugged harshly at unknown insecurities now on full display before you as you falter.
Is he really that afraid you’re going to say no?
“Baby…”
It’s one single word yet it breaks through every hardened exterior Rafe’s been protecting himself with as his eyes are beg you for an answer.
“Rafe, baby, c’mon the last thing you’re ever going to have to do is beg me to let you take me out on a date—”
“Y/N…”
His voice is soft but stern and has a pleading tone to it that you didn’t expect, catching you off guard again as you try to smooth things over with your smart ass attitude and charm.
One look at him and you know— know he needs to hear it.
“Please…”
It’s one of those moments you know he’d probably rather die than show anyone else— vulnerable and emotions ripped open and out in display. But you also know his feelings are so intense and eating him up alive over this so bad that he needs to show someone— anyone or he’s going to burst.
For the briefest of seconds you have the forward thought that maybe Rafe does want to show these moments to others he just hasn’t figured out how. Maybe that’s what he’s begging to do right now.
It was no shock or surprise that Rafe was your lifeline. He always had been, since the very first night. But you’d often wondered what it was you did for him. How your chaos and turbulence could all be worth it to him.
Maybe this was it? Maybe this is what no one else in this world can show him but you.
You stand from the tall bar chair abruptly, your body beating your mind as it tries to catch up, your arms already reaching around his neck as he steadies you against him with wide eyes.
“Rafe Cameron, I would literally love nothing more than for you to take me to midsummers…with you.”
He catches the clarification at the end, matching your quirked brow.
“Under one condition—”
The thought of holding any part of Rafe’s feelings ransom right now seems ungodly— trying to take back your words immediately, fumbling for a second.
“Er— nope, a request actually…”
Your tone changes in a second flat and Rafe, having been here a thousand times before, should’ve known better as he fully succumbs to your attempts to seduce him with one single look.
“If you’ll humor me…”
You’re only an inch or two away now, staring down at his lips as you close the gap between you even further.
“Anything, Y/N/N…”
His response, the easy confession to give you whatever you want stirs your mind.
The look you give him is truly malicious, knowing whatever words are about to come from your mouth are gonna rattle his brain.
“Promise you’ll fuck my brains out in your truck after. Or during, whichever you prefer.”
He would’ve been stunned by your words if they hadn’t pulled at a distant memory in his brain somewhere.
“In my truck…? Why in my—”
He chokes back when the memories of him and Mackenzie Slater float to the surface of Midsummers last year in his truck— coked out of his mind and having his way with her.
Your grin is easy and playful but has a deep rooted sense of mischief that sends shivers down his spine.
“I literally had to listen to this bitch talk in vivid detail about how you ‘tore her to shreds’ last summer—”
If you weren’t so giddy and breezy right now Rafe would’ve surely thrown up.
In the middle of broad daylight— on the Island Club patio, he feels your hands on either side of his face before he feels you pull his bottom lip between your teeth, suckling on it enough to earn a moan from him before pulling back.
“So now, I’m going to tear you to shreds, baby boy.”
Emotions— each and every single one of them meant for you— come rupturing out of him as arguably one of the biggest grins you’d ever seen on him breaks out over his perfect face.
You swell with pride as he laughs, letting him sturdy you against him, playfulness radiating off of you and tugging at his heartstrings.
“What if it’s not my truck— what if it’s that locker room right over there?” He whispers deep into your ear as he points to the small buildings by the pool.
“As long as it’s close enough for her to hear, I don’t give a shit—”
“Fuck…”
He needs to relax— he can already feel his dick hardening against the light fabric of his golf shorts— but he fucking can’t when you’re saying things like that.
Playful or not, Rafe has hardly, realistically if ever, experienced you being jealous— and you’ve had plenty of reasons to be, given his history. Seeing it displayed in any fashion— seeing you needy and demanding of him— was doing determinantal things to his mind.
“You’re trouble…”
Your next words full on stun him, as he hopes to fucking god you’re right.
“No, I’m yours.”
Your phone goes off as you're making your way up the staircase of Tanneyhill, this time your intentions set to the other Camerons.
Kelce 🌶: plz god tell me u said yes to midsummers…
Kelce 🌶: I don’t think I’ve seen our boy this stressed since Ward fired him for a whole month last summer after all that shit went down
Y/N: wtf is the deal with midsummers?! People are literally losing their minds over this shit
Kelce 🌶: oh my sweet, sweet Y/N…
Kelce🌶: welcome to the Figure 8, dream girl! are you even surprised at this point?
Y/N: I don’t think anything can surprise me at this point
Kelce 🌶: never say never…
You can hear Sarah on the other side talking to Wheezie as you approach her bedroom door, not bothering to knock as you twist the handle.
“I should’ve just bought a dress when I was in Charlotte last weekend this is truly a nightm—”
“Oh, thank god!”
Wheezie jumps off the bed upon your arrival, almost throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation.
“Save me, Y/N— she’s lost it!”
She’s pointing at a bewildered Sarah, dresses thrown across her bed messily as she paces.
“Girl—”
You’re shaking your head, not bothering to scan her selections, already making your way to hang them back up in her closet, your tone stern in a “my best friend needs me or she’s going to go crazy” kind of way.
“How many times have we done this rodeo?! Quit stressing, you already know we are just gonna raid my closet and I’ll dress you. Stop panicking!”
“But—”
“Sarah! I’ve got you! When have I ever let you step foot out of this house without looking immaculate?”
“Ugh, you’re right…”
Wheezie throws you another impatient, helpless look.
“What the hell! I just said the exact same thing to you for the last half hour and you didn’t want to hear it—”
Sensing a classic Cameron sister temper tantrum in the early stages, you do your best to nip it in the bud.
“Why the hell are you so stressed out about it anyways?”
“It’s Midsummers!”
Sarah throws her words around like you’re supposed to know the significance behind them.
“Mid-fucking-summers” you mock her, “Jesus Christ, what is this thing? I feel like everyone in this town is losing it.”
“Sarah has a date!”
Wheezie’s eyes narrow at her older sister.
“But of course she’s being a bitch and won’t say who—”
“Wheezie!”
You don’t even bother trying to diffuse the situation at this point, sisters will be sisters, especially if your last name is Cameron.
“Wait, who is this mystery date?”
A tingly sense of deja vu hits you as you question her.
“It’s a…surprise, I don’t want—”
“A surprise?!”
Mystery date. Noah’s favorite cologne. His most expensive watch.
“Oh my God— it’s not my fucking brother is it?”
“What!?”
Sarah and Wheezie both nearly scream in unison, making you flinch backward at the loud sound.
“No!”
But Sarah’s cheeks are still burning crimson— she feels it too, knowing she’s giving away all her secrets with one blush.
“No way…”
You’re trying not to giggle but you can tell there’s something more to the surface there.
“It’s— not— Noah!!”
Sarah throws a pillow at your head in mock frustration.
“Alright, Jesus calm down! This thing has you almost as stressed as your brother…”
“Wait— what?!”
Wheezie drops her phone between her hands, hearing it hit the floor with a loud thud as Sarah’s jaw nearly hits the floor too.
“He asked you to Midsummers?!”
Sarah’s question seems rhetorical but when Wheezie blurts in you start wondering if there’s something you’re missing, a game that you’re not up to bat at yet…
“Wait, Y/N. Rafe like legit asked you to Midsummers with him?”
The pressure of his two little sisters staring at you like you have seven heads in response to their brother— who you’ve been openly hooking up with all summer and spending nearly every waking moment with— asking you out on a date— to a stupid kook event finally boils over.
“What the fuck is the deal with all of you?!”
“Have you lost your mind? You’re acting like he’s asking for my fucking hand in courtship or some dumbass—”
Yet when Sarah cuts in, it’s almost too obvious. Her words hitting you like a ton of bricks.
“Y/N! That’s exactly what he’s doing...”
The day rolls around fast, that looming stressful energy only getting greater by the second.
While this felt like any other chaotic day on the Figure Eight to you; the dozens upon dozens of texts from Sarah had proved otherwise.
Rafe had been pissed he couldn’t pick you up, but knowing the buttons he’d be pushing throughout the evening, he’d decided to play it cool when both your fathers demanded that each of you show up with your respective families.
“Show up”— being the key phrase that Rafe was willing to find a loophole.
Being a Cameron meant showing up ridiculously early to events such as these, always being the absolute picture perfect family, not a toe out of line…
Normally Rafe would have a hard time choking down the bullshit at events like these, but tonight his only intent is you. He barely hears his father drone on as he stands with Sarah and Wheezie at the front steps of the Island Club entrance.
“You don’t see their car yet do you?”
Sarah tries to ask casually but Rafe can tell there’s something off in his sisters voice.
“Why— nervous to see Noah?” Wheezie bites back quickly.
“I told you it’s not fucking Noah—”
“Then who the hell is—”
“Children—”
Ward's voice cuts off the youngest Cameron sibling as Rafe immediately wants to choke on the condescending tone dripping from his father‘s one word.
Ward takes an irritated look at his son, eyes scanning him from head to toe.
“What the fuck were you thinking wearing this?”
He doesn’t bother hiding his words from the rest of the family, Wheezie throwing her father an irritated look before lowly whispering at her feet.
“I think it looks great…”
Rafe, who’s insides are warmed at his sister's reassurance, is trying to remain calm, knowing silence will only irritate his father more. When he just shrugs his shoulders casually, Ward looks like he’s going to burst into flames.
“We’ll talk about this later.”
Rafe’s next words cause Wheezie’s irritated look at her father to turn to shock.
“Oh I’m sure we will...”
Everyone just stands there, Rafe letting an accidental laugh fall from his lips as his father just stands there bewildered but fuming, not yet used to the resistance from his eldest child.
Unsure if he’s going to punch him in the face or not, Rafe braces for either option, body settling when he sees Ward take a deep breath and look to his other children.
“We are going to start lining up now— go ahead and stand behind myself and Rose—”
It’s at that moment Rafe sees the large SUV pull up, spotting your driver immediately. His heart races when he sees him get out and make his way over to the back door, watching your father get out first, followed by Zach.
“I’m not walking in with you guys…”
Rafe’s positive his father looks like he’s about to have a heart attack but he’s not even looking in Ward’s direction to confirm it— not paying him the slightest attention anymore, hearing Sarah’s voice instead, eyes hyper focused at catching the exact moment you stepped foot out of that car.
“Neither am I…”
Whatever his fathers reaction was, he didn’t catch it, his feet already taking a step toward, Sarah trailing just behind him as he sees Noah stick his hand out and watches yours latch onto it.
Noah’s firm hand helps you out of the car as you straighten your dress, a warm fuzzy feeling washing over you immediately after you step out, knowing only one thing… Rafe’s eyes are on you.
You’re twisting around, eyes scanning the entrance until you’re met with the most brilliant, breath taking shade of blue. Shock washes over your body, as you for once aren't describing Rafe’s eyes…
Your legs are no longer moving yet he’s still getting closer to you, his own closing the distance when yours fail to work.
So many thoughts compete for dominance in your weak brain. Like how you know Rafe is more than aware this was going to piss off Ward, how you know it’s going to majorly draw attention and most importantly, how you know how badly he wanted to wear it.
As your eyes scan up and down every single inch of him, you have the same thought seeing the suit on Rafe as you did that day in the store when he’s taken you shopping; how it was literally made to be ripped off of him.
The same exact deep turquoise suit you’d pointed out to him that day he’d closed down the entire store to make all of your wildest dreams come true, the brilliantly bright shade catching your eye and doing wicked things when picturing your tall, handsome boy within it. The same exact suit now fitted perfectly to every inch of his skin. As he smiles at you, that beloved strand of hair falls onto his eyelashes and you know you’re a goner.
The feeling shoots straight down and you can feel your pussy start to actually tingle. The dress you’d worn had required no panties from you— causing the pool already forming between your legs to soak down your thighs, breath hitching as you felt it drip down lower and lower…
It was going to be a long night.
That’s the same exact thought Rafe is having as he looks down at you, shades of white and gold making him melt into you, the white feather boa dangling from your elbows making his already fragile mind wander…
“Well fuck— you clean up nice eh, Boy Wonder?” Noah throws a nod in Rafe’s direction.
The words come tumbling out of your mouth so fast they’re almost hard to make out.
“This fucking suit looks incredible on you! I knew you’d lov—”
“Not as incredible as this dress I’m going to tear off you later—”
The promise of your earlier request— hoping and praying he’ll tear it to shreds.
His finger glides along your hip before his lips meet yours in a bruising kiss, not giving shit that your lip gloss now stains his face.
“Okay chill—”
Noah scoffs, looking away from you, training his eyes on Sarah, maybe for a little too long.
“I’m right the fuck here—”
Sarah just laughs. “You think they care?”
“They should care—”
“Get the fuck out!”
Kelce, already heavily tranced into his typical fun loving ‘I don’t give a fuck kind of attitude’ comes stumbling into view, Topper not far behind him, goofy eyed and sporting a lob sided grin you know too well. They were far from sober.
“Dream girl, who told you that you could show up to this fine establishment looking so beautiful, hmm?”
Kelce reaches a hand out to you, only to be swatted away harshly by Rafes, his death glare making him falter.
“Baby gir— ow fuck, your man’s ain’t playin tonight is he?”
“Watch it, Kelce—”
Topper grins further at Rafe, sensing his annoyance, the drink in his hand sloshing around dangerously as he eyes his friends outfit cautiously.
“Bro— what the hell are you wearing? I spotted you a smile away in that color—”
You catch Rafe’s eye right as he sees the twinkle form in yours.
“It looks so sexy on him, doesn’t it?” You question the group, looking googly eyed at Rafe, unwilling to help how happy and proud of him that he was slowly, on his own time, allowing others around him to see the real him.
Topper fake wretches, earning a laugh from Noah.
“They’re fucking disgusting, right?”
Your smart ass response back to your brother is cut off by his loud cat whistle, causing everyone to whip their heads towards the sound.
“Speaking of sexy…damn, Sid—okay—”
Your head snaps up, catching the moment Sid steps out into view looking like something out of a runway fashion show, his bright eyes piercing when matched with the darker shades of his suit.
You’re blinking rapidly in Rafe’s grasp, trying to decipher if your eyes are playing tricks on you.
“What’re you doing here? I told you I’d be fine tonight, I don’t need you standing guard at—”
When Sid’s arm slides gracefully behind Sarah’s back, eyes bashfully coming up to catch his gaze, your words begin to trail, the loose ends quickly coming together as you try to make sense of it in your brain.
“I’m here on other obligations, actually…”
Topper— be it the alcohol or the arrogance is the first to speak up.
“THAT'S your date?”
The way he says it leaves a tone of bitterness that can only be reflected at such events. You hear him scoff as he brings his drink back up to his lips.
“Bet Wards gonna fucking love that…”
“That’s the plan…”
The dreamy quality to Sarah’s voice matches her bright smile as she looks almost too mischievously up at Sid, a toothpick hanging loosely from his mouth as you watch her eye it closely, so close in fact you swear you can hear each and every one of her thoughts as you loudly clear your throat.
“Uh—”
“We are gonna go line up, we’ll see you inside, okay?”
Before any of you can respond, Sarah’s grabbing Sid’s arm purposefully, leading him up the staircase, not before giving you a clear “I’ll fill you in later, promise” look over her shoulder as she departs.
You’re lost wondering what they’re up to when Rafe squeezes your sides.
“We should follow.”
You watch as Kelce hits Topper on the arm knowingly, swearing you hear a “Good luck, bro” from him. Your eyes furrowed in confusion as Noah clocks the whole thing, snickering loudly at your rarely oblivious nature.
He backs away, not before whispering an eager “you got this— don’t choke” in your ear, your eyes nearly bulging out of your head when they snap to his, full of confusion.
The look on your face only makes him laugh harder, giving Rafe a pat on the back and a small wink as a final departure.
Before you can get too lost in the confusion of the last few minutes, his hands are guiding you with ease up the steps, cradled into his arms. You pretend not to notice when he falls back a few feet to pull his phone out and snap a picture of you walking up them.
Yet the “Hey, dream girl” he calls out to you, makes you halt, sending shivers up your spine as you turn to meet the lens with a smile at the exact perfect moment.
Rafe only looks down at the photo for half a second— he already knows it’s perfect— before returning the phone to his pocket, arms coming out to cradle his favorite thing in the world between them again: you.
The sun is at the perfect spot, catching that magnificent golden hour glow, the clouds eliminating those beautiful shades of pink and orange, keeping the stars safe for the time being.
There’s something about the way Rafe’s hands are touching you, like he’s never going to be able to get enough of you. He’s holding you like he never wants to let go.
You see the huge crowd of people outside through the glass windows and he leads you into the hall, joining the small line as a Island Club Society worker leads you to where you need to be.
There’s only a few people in front of you but your mind can’t focus on that, only on the man on your other side.
You feel him bring his lips down onto your shoulder, holding them there till you release a large breath that nearly turns into a whimper.
Another step forward as the line in front of you grows shorter, now waiting outside on the deck, the worker usherly you expertly into place, feeling the small breeze on your face, catching all of your friends in the crowd as they look up at you.
But it’s not just them— nearly every single person in the crowd is looking up at the two of you, making you freeze in horror until you feel his arms pull you closer into him, into the safest space you’ve ever known, his voice making you gaze up at him.
His fingers come out to gently graze your cheek, the twinkling lights and golden hour glow hitting your eyes just perfectly and he swears you look like a fucking angel— until he hears your perfectly sassy response.
“What, are you gonna kiss me in front of all these people, Cameron?”
The playful, seductive tone you’re using just bounces right off Rafe’s shield, and when he looks at you dead in the eyes, looking right into your soul— you know.
“Baby…”
There’s commotion all around you both—the electric buzz of the evening, music playing in the background, guests cheering for the couple now entering directly before you two.
True to everything Rafe Cameron has ever shown you, the second he looks at you—it all comes to a complete crashing halt, obliterating everything in the world but the two of you standing there.
When his mouth moves and he begins to speak, his words tattoo your skin with a promise.
“I’m yours, Y/N. From this moment forward, I want there to be no mistake on where I stand or what this is…what you are to me.”
As all of the air leaves your lungs, you can only think one single thing: “Holy fuck, this is it…”
“I’m in. All in. For real…no fucking games. Not with you. Ever.”
As if the act of walking through this stupid threshold at the Island Club was not a statement enough— it’s Rafe, and he needs to say it.
“You’re mine, Y/N.”
There they were. The words you were finally willing to accept that you’d been begging to hear from him since the moment you stepped foot on this island. Yet you couldn’t explain why you felt like you’d been begging for it since long before even then, long before the moment he caught you off guard months ago.
Your mouth falls open, not at all registering that there’s no longer people in front of the two of you, that it’s just the open air exposing you to the hundreds of guests in attendance, yet it’s still only him you can see.
Holy shit he’s going to do it…
You hear the speaker at the podium announce both of your names at that exact moment, Rafe’s eyes never leaving you as he grins and leans in.
“Yeah, I’m gonna kiss you now, Y/N/N...”
His leg expertly fiddles with yours for only half of second, making you feel like you’re losing your footing but really you’re just falling back into Rafe’s arms as he dips you back, his lips giving you the most tender kiss of a lifetime as the crowd goes wilds at your entrance.
When he pulls back you’re staring into those ocean blue orbs that you know will hold you down set you free forever if you let them.
The next minute he’s guiding you down the steps, not missing the eyes of eye single person in town staring between you and Rafe, not missing the whispers as you passed, your boy shooting you a wink as he squeezes your hand— no doubt hearing them too but making every single thing that has led to this moment worth it.
After all the guests have been properly announced but before dinner can start everyone in attendance is required to do the typical Figure Eight rodeo— the bullshit and arrogance of making the rounds at an all time high.
Rafe doesn’t let you go far— not that you’re even remotely trying to be elsewhere— happily glued to his side all evening.
The course of pleasantries takes you towards a circle enclosing your fathers and eldest brother entirely too quick— not missing the murderous looks they’re each throwing both of you.
“Rafe, my boy!”
One of your fathers clients ushers him over, Rafe’s tight grasp around your waist bringing you along with him as Zach rolls his eyes.
“Your father was just telling me about the deal you signed last week over in Williamston, pretty big move, son!”
Wards grinning at Rafe but it’s sickly and you can tell it’s actually paining him to do so, especially with you pinned to his sons side.
“Thank you, Sir. I’m pretty pleased with how it all turned out.”
Before anyone else can say another word, your father makes his presence known, loud and clear.
“Well, get ready, that was one of thousands. Small fish in a big pond…”
He says it so casually but you know his words mixed with the look your fathers shooting Rafe— one that says he looks at him as nothing more than a fly in his grasp— you know it’s meant to knock him down a beg.
But Rafe never flinches.
“Harold…I know you just met my son, Noah—”
Your fathers eyes sulk to you now, his bourbon grasped firmly in the same hand gesturing towards your figure.
“This is—”
Rafe Cameron also never misses.
Rafe flashes his cockiest smile he can muster towards the elder man, voice cutting through your fathers with such ease and just enough malice to effectively cut him off.
“Mr. Reynolds’s—”
Rafe’s voice is the proudest you’ve ever heard it, his arm tucked securely around your waist as he pulls you in front of him, showing you off like you’re the greatest thing in the entire world.
“This is my girlfriend—”
Zach chokes on his drink, coughing loudly but all of the men aren’t paying attention, instead hanging onto Rafe’s every word.
“Y/N Y/L/N…”
When your fathers eyes glaze over, Rafe takes one look up at him, holding firm in his stance, holding firm on you, holding firm on you trying to let his eyes do the talking.
I’ll never let you take her from me…ever
“It’s nice to meet you sir…”
Your hand comes up to shake Mr.Reynolds as he eyes between the two of you knowingly, eagerly taking your hand and holding it for a moment.
“Well I’ll be damned! I was just overhearing from another guest in attendance about some helluva speech the two of you put on a few weeks ago. Heard you both had the donors eating out of your hands so hard, you nearly tripled the projections. Heard your fathers had a field day!”
“So much for a small fish in a big pond—”
Mr.Reynolds winks over at Rafe and you’re waiting for the glass to shatter within your fathers hands, watching the way the muscles in his hand tighten.
Much to every other person's dismay, he’s all too eager to continue on singing both your praises until none other than Rose Cameron interjects the circle— the most unlikely hero— letting you all know dinner is about to begin.
Being Rose, she reads the tension immediately, eyes easily settling on you as the source of dismay as the speaker at the podium kindly asks guests to find their seats at their respective tables.
“Ayo— dream giiiiiiiiiiirl—”
As if on queue, Kelce’s slurred voice howls into the air, his arm lobbing over Rafe’s shoulder but he’s pointing at you, unlike Rose, not reading the room at all in the slightest bit— alcohol radiating off his breath.
“Bitch—What did I tell you about yo fine ass ‘bout comin in here lookin so—”
This time it’s Rose's voice to harshly cut him off, Rafe just laughing loudly at his friend's inebriation and his step mothers clear outward frustration and personal offense to it.
“Kelce Smith!”
As you watch Kelce’s lazy gaze make their way toward Rose’s beyond irritated figure, that “try me” kind of smile you know all too well from your friend by now, you know it can only mean trouble.
“Aww, C’mon now, Rose— don’t be like that sweetheart, I know you like it when I—”
Your shrill laughter cuts through the air the same moment Ward takes a step forward. Rafe, choking on his own laughter, pulls his friend back a few feet out of precaution as Rose covers her husband, taking a dangerous step in your direction as she hisses out her command.
“Seats! Now! All of you…”
None of you wait a second further, still trying your best to contain yourselves as Rafe balances Kelce over one shoulder and you on the other.
“What man? Rose might be a fucking cunt— but she’s a hot one.”
Rafe’s just shaking his head, pretending not to hear your fits of giggles as you finally find the rest of your friends at your designated table.
Rafe plops Kelce down in the seat next to Topper—the famous drunkest duo of the evening— both of them literally fist bumping as Kelce nearly knocks over his water glass— before seating him and yourself between Sarah and Noah.
All throughout dinner, he’s making eyes at you. His little touches sending shockwaves throughout every cell in your body.
The way his arm stays over the back of your chair the entire time. The way his fingers make their way to the back of your neck, kneading at the flesh there just enough to make you want to roll your head back into his grasp. The way his other hand sometimes pinches at the side of your waist affectionately whenever he laughs at one of Toppers dumb jokes or begins to tell Logan an animated story. The way his eyes dance over your features every few seconds, each time taking in different parts of you, watching as his eyes linger at his favorite parts: every single inch. The way his lingering gaze makes your legs clench under the table as your earlier promise buzzes through your mind, body electrified in anticipation.
You’re so caught up in Rafe, your friends keep having to pull you back into the conversation happening around the table, your usually bubbly and engaged presence entirely elsewhere.
“Y/N, hello!”
“Sorry, what?”
Eyes prying themselves from Rafe’s hungry gaze as Topper repeats himself, pointing toward Sarah.
“I was telling everyone about the family trip to the Bahamas…”
Rafe’s heart skips a beat for a second— his usual dreaded fear of the inevitable, yet this time feeling nothing but purpose instead of dread at the mention, fate having a funny way of working itself out.
This is it…he can feel it.
“My cousin and I managed to sneak away for a bit one night to find that club Sarah mentioned.”
“Oh my god, no you did not!” Sarah’s eyes are shooting you daggers. “I couldn’t even remember the name of the place, how did you—”
“And no wonder you two idiots—” he’s pointing between you and her now “almost didn’t make it back in one piece— that place is a fucking shit hole. I don’t even know how you—”
“But Topper how the fuck did you actually find it, all I said was what color the building was and that it was on the northern shore of the island.”
“Well there’s your first mistake Princess, it’s not on the northern shore—”
Yet it’s Rafe’s voice who makes the clarification, knowing— with a hellfire bent feeling deep in his bones that this is it— this is the moment.
“It’s on the eastern side of the island actually…right behind that old warehouse.”
You hear the words leave his mouth but it takes a moment for your brain to tell your body to actually move your gaze to his, for your brain to even function really.
“Oh my god…”
Your voice is hollow— stopping any other conversations at the table.
Yet the second you lock eyes with him, fate answers your most haunting question— for one horrific second, all of your walls come threatening to crumble down at the long awaited truth— yet that can’t be possible— because the answer is your dream boy, your safe space, your boyfriend. The answer— now staring right back at you with that famous soul touching depth— was Rafe.
“It was you…”
Realization— waves and waves of it— come crashing down on you as gravity wills you to keep breathing— to keep searching his eyes for answers to the loose strings.
He’s smirking at you now and his own eyes are shooting straight through you.
You know. You fucking know it was him
“Holy shit, Rafe...”
Hearing the tremble in your voice, his finger comes up to caress your cheek as it reddens, watching your eyes already threaten to spill over with tears.
“Shhh, baby—”
Sarah— too stunned to speak, sits there with her hand fully covering her mouth now hanging agape as Noah finally catches on, sharing the same shocked expression as her.
“Holy fucking shit, Y/N/N…“ running a hair through his perfectly slicked back locks, causing a a few strands to fall out of place, unable to find the words.
“It was YOU?!” Sarah finally manages to choke out— nearly shouting at her brother.
The table around you has come to halt but it’s just you and Rafe. His finger is still on your cheek and he doesn’t give a shit that there’s a dozen eyes on him as he chooses where to begin, never taking his eyes off you for a single second, the buzz of the evening a constant thrum in the background.
His thumb gently grazes your cheek bone, eyes boring into yours with such intensity— with such admiration— quietly willing you to trust him— the same as you had done the very first night as he finally lays out his truth.
“You were the drunkest I’ve ever seen you—”
You winced painfully at his brutal right off the bat honesty, easing instantly as words continued to tumblr out of his mouth like silk.
“I finally got you in the truck…asked me at least fifteen times if I was a predator and to please not kill you—”
(another huge wince from you—mixed with a snort of laughter from Noah—hearing it like he’s thousands of light years away)
“Told you over and over again that I knew Zach and your dad but you were relentless…”
Panic. That’s all you could feel. Scared—terrified even of where this was going, knowing your history and the fact that you remember literally nothing from this memory he’s telling you— that fateful night in the Bahamas all those years ago with Sarah.
Rafe’s voice sounds like he’s an another planet—truthfully he is— his memory taking him to the night he met the girl in front of him— the night his life changed forever.
“I don’t think I’d laughed that hard in a long time. You were so effortlessly…annoyingly—funny. Then just as quick as you came into my truck you hopped out…Turned around to look me dead in the eyes and said ‘You’re a sweet boy, Rafe Cameron’ and strode on into the house…”
His thumb brushes over your lips now and you swear you can see angels behind him.
“And I knew…the moment those words left your mouth that I didn’t stand a fucking chance…”
The look on his face is the kind that people wrote movies about. It's the kind of look that moves mountains—that defies gravity. It’s the kind of beauty that burns so brilliant it can melt you at the slightest touch. And if you were being brutally honest, you would let this man stare at you forever if it meant getting to be under his brilliant blue gaze that so intensely lit up your entire world.
Your jaw was gaping open, heart beating the fastest it ever had as his words hang in the air— as a missing piece of your puzzle comes together— as your brain feels like it’s going to begin to melt down.
Sarah, the other culprit of that fateful evening, is the one to finally break the tension, her voice a low hum against the evening happening behind them as Sid eyes you wildly next to her.
“Rafe—who the…”
Her brain seems to be breaking down too as she tries to get words out, failing miserably.
“What the actual fuck…?!” She takes one more helpless look at you and before turning around and snapping her fingers for a server. “I— we need more alcohol, please! Immediately!”
You’re finally able to break your gaze away from Rafe, swallowing deeply only to loom up to see Topper who looks like he got hit in the head. Part of you wants to laugh at the look of pure bewilderment of him face but then realize you more than likely—more like without a doubt— yours looks the exact same.
YIKES.
Voices begin to fill the air, your friends all beginning to speak at once but you can’t hear them— can’t think straight as your center of gravity shifts, leaving you off balance.
Rafe, always sensing every little detail, is already clearing his throat, standing swiftly from his chair, offering you his hand.
“I think it’s time for a dance, don’t ya think?”
He sees you begin to tremble, can see the crease lines in your brow as you look up at him— only to be met with that patient, guiding smile— the only telling you everything's okay— the one only he can give you.
Sensing that you need reassurance, he bends down to kiss the skin just above your jaw before grabbing ahold of your hand firmly and guiding you up from the table.
“C’mon sweetheart—”
That’s the thing about Rafe, he always knows what you need, most times without having to say it. And while you’d felt that connection from the moment you’d met him, it’s never surprised you how quickly it came on— how quickly you were willing to trust him and let him in within just a few short months— no short feat given your long history.
But it hasn’t been months. It’s been years… and the weight of the reality of that seems to be crushing you from the inside out.
Yet as Rafe turns you toward him, not even realizing the two of you had reached the dance floor, your perspective slowly begins to shift with each passing second.
His hands— the same hands that have touched you thousands of times this summer— the same hands you’re now realizing that pulled you into his truck that night in the Bahamas— guide you into position as he effortlessly moves you throughout the dance floor.
“Say something, Y/N/N…”
“Rafe I—”
You want to say something, many things actually—
“It was you—”
He goes to open his mouth again but now your thoughts are more concise, words jumbling out of your mouth at a rapid pace.
“Why didn’t you— I mean, were you going to— my dad was so pissed that night— I couldn’t—”
Rafe laughs, the sound still holding you just as secure as his words and actions.
“Yeah, mine wasn’t too thrilled either…”
Your heart stops.
“Ward knows?”
“Of course he knows. He kind of saw straight through my bullshit once—”
“How?”
Rafe pauses, choosing his next words carefully.
“My, uh… my hands…”
Those same hands…
“They were pretty bloody…”
You’re not sure which part you’re grappling with more— the fact that Ward, whose life has become far, far too entangled with yours for various reasons has known the truth about your first encounter with Rafe this entire time— or the fact that yet another truth to your story that night has been revealed, the part you’d been terrified and riddled with guilt and worry since the moment you’d woken up that following morning and couldn’t remember a single thing— Rafe’s bloody hands.
He watches the horror flash across your face, his next words determined to put you at ease, to wash away any worry he’d known you’d harbored of that night.
“Nothing happened to you, I promise.”
“…because you—”
Another question screams through your mind, just now burning to know, wondering if this should’ve crossed your mind when initially you’d found out minutes ago.
“Why were you even there?”
His eyes burn brightly into yours, giving you your answer without a trace of guilt.
“The same reason you were…”
It takes only a moment. The reason you’d gone to the club. The connect Sarah thought he had.
The cocaine.
You’re not sure how Rafe knows that you’d gone there for coke, likely another part of your brief counter that will be explained in due time.
“Your hair was a bit darker— you were wearing that tiny ass black dress, your hair pinned back. Your nails were this bright neon color…”
The details he’s recounting take you back to that night, back to standing in that parking lot— your last memory as you hear a group of people laughing directly behind you.
“And ya know, for a girl— no offense— very clearly in distress you were fiercely stubborn—”
“Oh god, what did I say?!”
But Rafe’s still looking at you like the sun shines out of your ass— like he’s never seen anything as amazing as you.
“Well you kept calling me Ryan…”
You laugh, a real cackling kind of laugh that makes him melt, knowing he’d bring you back to earth eventually.
“You were annoying and funny and perfect and it was the first time I ever—”
Rafe struggles for a second, truly struggles to find the words to explain what changed that night.
“I don’t know— I don't know how to explain it. I pulled you into the truck and the second your mouth started running, I truly couldn’t handle it for a second. Y/N, you have literally been driving me wild from the moment I met you. And I know I should’ve told you but—”
The look he’s giving you is foreign, touching a new part of your soul like you’re discovering it for the first time together.
Rafe pulls himself together to say the words, no matter how exposed it’ll leave him, no matter how hard he has to lay his entire heart and soul on the line, no matter how vulnerable and susceptible that makes him.
“Y/N… in twenty minutes you were able to— fuck, I don’t think I can truly explain what you did to me that night. I didn’t think pulling you into my truck that night would change my life completely but it did. And from that fucking moment— fuck, I don’t even care Y/N/N, it’s the truth. You found a way into my head and you’ve been home there ever since. And since then, I’ve felt like a hurricane has come through my life— like nothing has been balanced or in place…like nothing has seemed right in my life…”
“Until you stepped foot on this island this summer…”
“And I fucking knew— I knew the moment you looked up at me on the golf course that day after giving Noah that ridiculous fucking car and I saw the smallest hint of recognition— of something in your eyes—”
“Rafe…”
“I knew, some fucking way, be it some kind of twist of fate or just pure luck…I knew somehow you felt it too.”
All of the weight from earlier feels non existent, feeling as though you’re floating high in the clouds as your words from earlier swim through your head again, this time causing the most beautiful smile to cross your face as you speak them out again, your hands coming up behind Rafe’s neck to cradle his head between them.
“It was you…”
And then fate's final seal.
“It’s always been me…”
He kisses you in that blinding, knee weakening way that only he can, not giving a shit that people are liking staring.
When he pulls away, you swear you see him wink at the DJ as the song shifts. When the beat starts and Rafe begins slowly whispering the lyrics into your ear, you swear you can feel a part of your soul leaving your body, permanently attaching itself to him. Rafe mother fucking Cameron. That part of you now irrevocably forever, irreversibly his, until time stood still.
Shouldn’t this scare the shit out of you? Shouldn’t this type of commitment that you’ve ran away from your entire life absolutely terrify you? Instead, why does this feel like you’re finally coming up for air, feeling as though you’re able to really breathe for the first time in too long?
In the middle of chaos it felt like Rafe Cameron was throwing you a lifeline. A shot at a better evening—yes. But beyond that— a glimpse into how different life could be, filled with the beautiful, genuinely raw energy only he was capable of showing you and in turn inspire within you.
A glimpse into a life of your own.
He looks down at you with the purest look of complete adoration, his gaze so intense your knees could give out. You have to mentally will yourself to stay standing. His stare at you is enough to knock you dead. You wonder how many women have made it out alive under the same pretenses before realizing……none have. It’s just you. Only you. Only you forever.
The rest of the night is filled with longing glances, little touches that speak volumes, stealing you away a few times to push you up against one of the dimly lit back walls to put his mouth and hands all over you, meant to hold you both over until you can finally slip away and hold to to his promise.
After what seems like forever, Rafe hand is finally pulling you out into the parking lot.
“I know I made you a promise—” his hands all over you yet again, “but I really just want to take you home, baby—”
Yet you only make it to the back of the Island Club parking lot— Rafe’s hand already between your legs, losing his fucking mind at how wet you are— before he’s throwing the truck in park.
“Mmm— fuck! Rafe, baby…”
“Jesus Christ, Y/N—”
“I need you so bad, Rafe—”
You barely process that he’s parked that truck as he reaches over across the center counsel to grab the handle on the side, the seat immediately snapping down so you’re fully horizontal. He’s across the center and on top of you faster than you thought capable for how tall he is.
And even quicker, he’s in you before you can process that he’s pulled your dress up to your hips until you hear his voice in your ear, feeling him slide deep in you, reveling in how perfectly he was stretching you out while in this position.
“Fuckkkkk, YN. You’ve been driving me crazy all night…”
He’s so deep in you now you can barely breathe.
“Me? You’ve been the one fucking teasing me the whole time…”
You try to pout back as your head is ponded back into the seat.
“Ohhhhh my god. This is all I was thinking about through dinner. All night—Rafe, I….”
You feel the word vomit coming on so you crash your lips to his to silence yourself.
“I know baby girl I’m sorry I couldn’t help it—” he lets out a loud moan “This goddamn dress.”
He manages to pull the straps down, freeing your nipple so he can pinch it roughly between his fingers, the feeling sending shock waves straight to your core. A near scream comes out of your mouth and he does absolutely nothing to quiet you down, the sounds you’re making inflating his head in ways he didn’t think possible. Only you could make him feel like this.
“Oh my god YN, I’m….”
“Please god don’t stop, Rafe” as your fingers tug harshly at his hairline, blonde locks entwined between them, grip tight, never wanting to let go.
“Never.”
He moans again and you swear you’re losing your mind, this man being sexiest thing ever without even fucking trying. He fully brings you back to reality with his next statement…
“You’re the only thing I’ve ever really wanted YN... and I want you so. fucking. bad.”
His hips thrust perfectly into yours with each word, never missing a beat, hitting you so incredibly deep from the angle your bodies are smashed together, trying to get impossibly closer.
You whine deeply at the admission. Unable to help the pool of arousal that’s about to soak out of you. He feels it too as you begin clenching so tight around him, his eyes roll to the back of his head for a second and the sight alone is enough to make you nearly cum. You’re so close, you both know it.
“I’m yours Rafe. Only yours. Please”
Your lips crash back to his but only for a second as your orgasm rips through your entire body, harsh moans leaving your throat as you register Rafe screaming your name. Your response clearly setting him over the edge as well. You each take a few seconds to come back to your senses, the air buzzing around you, faint humming sound surrounding all your senses.
You realize your hands are still tightly clenched in his now sweaty hair. As you release them Rafe begins trailing kisses up your neck. You turn your head so your lips are nearly touching, eyes locked.
As he looks deep into you, he feels it again...that invisible string. That silent pull you seem to have, with one look, begging him to say it again without speaking a single word. When the words start coming out you’re confident that no man has or will ever be able to read you like Rafe Cameron.
“I meant what I said YN.”
He places another kiss on your jaw and then allows his ring clad index finger to take his lips place, fingers gliding down frustratingly slow, stirring your insides yet again.
“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something so bad in my life.”
His words melt every single piece of ice that has frozen you over the last year, replacing it with a feeling you can’t recognize.
The feeling of really, truly, officially being his.
“I told you, Cameron. I’m yours. Pretty sure I’ve been yours since the moment I walked onto this stupid fucking island..”
He laughs at the thought but deep down he knows, knows you’ve been his long before that.
You both know now…He feels it too, he’s felt it from The Very First Night.
...
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