34

The soft hum of the refrigerator was the first thing Stella heard when she opened her eyes.

Her neck ached. Her back too. She blinked, disoriented for a moment, realizing she'd fallen asleep curled up on the couch. The TV had turned itself off hours ago, leaving behind the faint glow of the paused Office episode on the black screen.

Her blanket, one she didn't remember pulling out  was draped neatly over her shoulders. And when she sat up, the scent hit her before her memory caught up: takeout. Rafe's kind of takeout.

She stood slowly, her hair a mess, last night blurring around the edges. Their conversation, the tension, the quiet in-between moments, all replayed in flashes.

She padded barefoot to the kitchen, opening the fridge.

There it was.

Styrofoam boxes stacked perfectly, condensation still clinging to the edges. Her favorite: the Pad Thai.

For a second, she just stood there — the smallest smile pulling at her lips.

He really had stayed long enough to order them.Maybe even long enough to make sure she fell asleep.

The front door opened suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Stella?" Her mom's voice, sharp but warm, filled the space.

She turned, watching her mother step in, sunglasses still on, phone in one hand, a travel bag slung over her shoulder. The heels, the pressed linen pants, the way she moved, it was all perfectly practiced.

"Mom," Stella said, straightening the blanket. "You're back early."

"Flight landed ahead of schedule." Her mother smiled, dropping her bag by the entryway. "You look exhausted, honey. Late night studying?"

Stella hesitated. "Something like that."

Her mom chuckled softly, walking into the kitchen and eyeing the takeout boxes in the fridge. "Since when do you eat Harbor's Edge alone?"

"Just got hungry." Stella tried to sound casual.

Her mom gave her that knowing look — the one that said she saw through everything. "Hungry, huh? Or was someone keeping you company while I was gone?"

"Mom," Stella sighed, a small laugh escaping despite herself. "Don't start."

Her mom held up her hands, smiling. "Fine, fine. I won't pry. Just asking questions. You look... rough, though."

Stella ignored that, walking toward the counter as her mom set her purse down and began rambling — the usual post-trip rundown.

"Anyway, the trip went well. The gala was long — typical donors, same faces."

She paused, a knowing smirk tugging at her mouth. "Rose Cameron was there. She asked about you, actually."

Stella furrowed her eyebrows at her mother. "She did?"

"Mhm. Said she hadn't seen you in ages. She looked beautiful, as always — though she was practically glued to Ward's arm the entire night. I told her we need to get the families together again soon."

"Yeah," Stella murmured, brushing her hair from her face. "It's been a while."

Her mom leaned on the counter. "Honestly, it's strange not seeing the Camerons every other weekend. I would see you children so often, and now everyone's scattered. Sarah's off doing God knows what, and Rafe—" she stopped herself, then waved it off with a light tone. "Well, Rafe seems... busy."

Stella just hummed, avoiding her mom's eyes.

"Well," her mom said, exhaling, "I'm unpacking and showering before I collapse. You've got plans today?"

Stella glanced at the clock on the stove, 10:42. Her heart dropped.

"Crap," she muttered.

Her mom looked up. "What?"

"I was supposed to be at the marina ten minutes ago."

Her mom smiled knowingly. "Ah, a boat day, I assume?"

"With Sarah, Topper, and the rest," Stella said, already heading toward the stairs.

"Of course," her mom said, following her with her eyes. "Try not to come home sunburned again. And tell Ward I said hello if he's around."

"Got it," Stella called over her shoulder, already halfway up the stairs.

Her room was flooded with late morning light. The thin curtains fluttered with the wind sneaking through the cracked window, carrying the sound of gulls and the faint smell of salt.

Stella dropped her blanket onto the chair and brushed her hair back from her face. It was tangled and wavy, blonde strands curling over her shoulders in that messy, just-woke-up way she'd never fully liked.

It always reminded her of the beach, unpredictable, untamable, like it belonged to a different version of her.

She reached for her phone on the nightstand. Notifications lit up the screen in a bright flood of reality.

Group texts from Sarah and Kelce. Two missed calls. A few Snapchat streaks she didn't care about.

And then his name.Rafe Cameron.

She hesitated before opening it.

Rafe: You coming today or what?Rafe: Topper said you bailed last time. Don't disappear again.Rafe: 10:30. Don't make me come get you.

Her heart gave that small, traitorous flutter — the kind that annoyed her because she knew better by now.

Still, something about it didn't sit right.

Every time Stella started to believe there was something real beneath Rafe's rough edge, she'd remember the woman Sarah mentioned — and the way his whole demeanor shifted when her name came up, sharp and defensive, like he was hiding something he didn't want her to see.

She sighed and set her phone down, running her fingers through her hair. She didn't know why she kept letting him pull her in.

Her phone rang again, only this time the name read Sarah.

"Finally!" Sarah's voice was loud, half-laughing through the speaker. "Tell me you're awake."

"Barely," Stella said, rubbing her face.

"Boat day, babe. You're late. Again."

"I know," Stella said. "I just woke up."

Sarah's tone softened a little. "You okay? You kinda disappeared last night."

"Yeah," Stella said. "Just tired."

Sarah didn't push. She never did when Stella's voice sounded like that. "Okay, well hurry up. We're meeting at the marina. Everyone's here already."

Stella hesitated. "Everyone?"

"Yeah," Sarah said. "Topper, Kelce... and Rafe."

There it was.

"Right," Stella said.

Sarah paused. "You're still weird about that, huh?"

"I'm not weird," Stella said quickly. "It's just—I don't know, forget it."

Sarah made a sound between a groan and a laugh. "Yeah, I know. But you know how Rafe is. He gets bored easily."

"That's not exactly comforting."

"I'm not trying to comfort you," Sarah said honestly. "I'm trying to get you here before Topper starts assigning lifeguard duties again."

Stella let out a quiet laugh. "Fine. I'll be there soon."

"Good. And wear that black bikini. You look stupid good in it."

"Bye, Sarah."

Sarah laughed and hung up.

Stella tossed her phone onto the bed and crossed to her dresser. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror — sleep-swollen eyes, waves of blonde hair falling over her shoulders, freckles visible from the sun the other day.

She didn't look like a girl who'd been up late with Rafe Cameron. She looked normal. But her chest still felt heavier than it should have.

She opened the top drawer, pulling out her bikini and a white tank top. Then her gaze dropped to something near the edge of her dresser.

A lighter.

Small, metallic blue, with a scratch down the side. Definitely not hers.

She picked it up, flipping it in her fingers. The weight of it was familiar — careless, like him.

"Of course," she muttered, shaking her head.

He'd probably dropped it last night. Or left it on purpose. Either option felt equally like Rafe.

She placed it down carefully and grabbed her tote bag. Inside went her towel, sunscreen, lip balm, and a pair of denim shorts she could slip on later. She tucked her phone into the pocket and glanced at the screen again.

Rafe's messages were still there, waiting.

Her thumb hovered over the keyboard.She typed, deleted, and typed again.

Stella: leaving now, be there soon

Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then came back.

Rafe: Good.

Short. Cold. The kind of text that said too little and too much at once.

She stared at it for a second, then slipped her phone into her bag.

"Whatever," she whispered under her breath.

The mirror caught her reflection again. Wavy blonde hair. A small, tired smile she didn't mean.

"Just another day," she said quietly.

But even she didn't believe it.

By the time Stella reached the marina, the sun was already climbing high, the water catching the light like glass.

She parked between two trucks, the air heavy with salt and boat fuel. Music drifted across the docks — low, bassy, familiar.

When she stepped out, the sound of laughter floated over the water. The kind that could only belong to them.

She followed it down the dock, wooden boards creaking beneath her sandals. Her wavy blonde hair fell loose over her shoulders, still a little damp from her morning shower.

Sarah was the first she spotted — sitting sideways on the boat bench, drink in hand, legs stretched out like she didn't have a care in the world. The sun caught her hair and the gold of her bracelets every time she lifted her cup to her lips.

Kelce was beside her, a lazy grin on his face, flicking ash from the end of a joint before passing it to Topper. The smell hung faintly in the air, mixing with coconut sunscreen and the sea.

Topper took a slow hit, exhaled into the wind, and squinted toward Stella. "Look who finally decided to show up."

"Yeah, yeah," she said, stepping aboard. "You guys ever start without me?"

Kelce grinned. "Always."

"Be nice," Sarah said, nudging him with her foot. "Stella's the only reason half of you get invited anywhere."

"I get invited plenty," Topper said.

"Yeah, to your own house," Sarah shot back, rolling her eyes.

Stella laughed quietly, setting her tote down near the seat. The deck was warm against her bare feet, the kind of heat that seeped in slow.

Sarah handed her a cup — half-melted ice, something fruity and dangerous inside. "Drink. You look like you need it."

Stella took a small sip. It burned first, then settled sweet. "You guys started early."

Kelce smirked. "We call it pre-gaming."

"You call everything pre-gaming," Sarah said.

"It's a lifestyle."

Stella shook her head, smiling despite herself. "Where's Rafe?"

Sarah leaned back, eyes still on her drink. "Said he forgot something in his car. He'll be back."

"Oh," Stella said, trying to sound like that didn't matter.

Kelce raised a brow. "You sound disappointed."

"I'm not," she said quickly.

Topper snorted. "Sure."

Before she could reply, the sound of footsteps echoed along the dock.

Rafe was walking toward them, one hand shoved into his pocket, the other gripping the necks of two liquor bottles by their caps. His shirt was half-untucked, his hair pushed back, still damp at the ends from a quick shower.

Sunlight hit the glass in his hand, making the amber inside glow.

Sarah looked over and groaned. "Oh my god, of course."

Kelce sat up straighter. "No way you actually brought more."

Rafe stepped onto the boat, the boards creaking beneath his shoes. "Left them in the car," he said casually, setting the bottles down on the seat beside him. "Didn't think you guys would survive with what Topper brought."

"Hey," Topper said, pretending to be offended. "My tequila was doing just fine."

Sarah snorted into her cup. "Barely."

Kelce leaned forward, grinning. "Alright, hero. You saving the day or what?"

Rafe gave a small, amused shake of his head and reached for one of the bottles. "If that's what you wanna call it."

He twisted the cap off with one hand, took a sip straight from the bottle, then passed it to Sarah.

"Gross," she said, eyeing him but taking a drink anyway.

Stella sat back, legs crossed, watching them. The smell of alcohol drifting through the warm air.

Kelce took the other bottle, lifting it like a trophy. "Now we're set."

Stella laughed under her breath, taking the cup Sarah handed her. The drink burned going down, but she didn't mind. The warmth in her chest felt good, familiar.

Kelce poured himself a cup and leaned against the railing. "You know, Stel," he said, eyeing her, "I think you missed me."

She tilted her head, pretending to think. "Mmm... not really."

"Ouch," he said dramatically, clutching his chest. "You wound me."

"I'll live," she said, fighting a smile.

Sarah snorted. "You two flirt like second graders."

"Because she starts it," Kelce shot back.

"I literally didn't."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that."

Stella laughed, shaking her head. "You're so full of yourself."

"That's confidence, baby," he said, grinning and flexing his muscles as he leans back into the seat.

She gave him a look. "That's delusion."

As Topper barked out a laugh, Rafe sat quiet through it all. He didn't say anything, just sipped from the bottle like he was watching a show he'd already seen before.

The boat engine rumbled to life, humming under their feet as Topper steered them away from the dock. The water opened up around them — wide and endless, sunlight turning everything gold.

Music played loud from Sarah's phone. A mix of old and new, the kind of songs that didn't need skipping.

Sarah stretched out on the seat, drink balanced in her hand. "God, I missed this," she said, sighing.

Kelce leaned forward, grinning. "You say that every time we leave the house."

"Because it's true," she said.

The boat cut across the water faster now. Wind tangled through Stella's hair, the salt thick in the air. She leaned back, half-laughing as it whipped across her face.

Topper steered toward the channel, eyes on the water ahead. "Where you wanna go?"

"The inlet," Sarah said. "We can anchor and swim."

Rafe wiped his hand on his shorts, glancing toward the horizon. "That place is packed this time of day. Everyone and their grandma anchors there."

Sarah frowned. "Then where do you suggest?"

He nodded toward the north side of the sound. "There's a quiet cove past the rocks. Shallow enough to anchor, deep enough to swim."

Kelce squinted. "You mean the spot near the old pier? Thought that was off-limits."

Rafe smirked. "Everything's off-limits if you listen to the wrong people."

Topper chuckled. "That's not comforting, man."

"It's fine," Rafe said, leaning forward slightly. "Water's clear. No current. And no tourists."

Sarah gave him a skeptical look. "You sure you're not just trying to take us somewhere sketchy?"

"Wouldn't have to if you picked somewhere good," he said.

"Touché," Sarah muttered.

Kelce leaned toward Stella, lowering his voice. "You think he secretly memorized every inch of the island just to flex?"

Stella smiled faintly. "I think he just likes being right."

Rafe's lips twitched. "I heard that."

Kelce laughed, holding up his cup. "Then stop eavesdropping."

Rafe didn't bother responding — just gave that half-smirk that meant he'd won without even trying.

Topper glanced over his shoulder. "North side it is, then. If we crash, I'm blaming you, Cameron."

"Add it to the list," Rafe said, stretching his legs out.

The boat pushed faster through the water, cutting over the waves. The shoreline blurred into streaks of green and sand.

Sarah poured another drink, humming along to whatever was playing on her phone. Kelce leaned back with his cup balanced on his stomach.

Stella set her drink down, closing her eyes for a second. The wind brushed against her face, warm and sharp, carrying salt and the faint tang of liquor.

It was that kind of day — bright, loud, endless.

The boat tore through the sound, wind whipping through everyone's hair and music pulsing through the air like heartbeat.

Sarah had taken over DJ duties and was yelling the lyrics to some throwback song, her voice cracking over the bass. Topper drove one-handed, sunglasses crooked, grin wide.

Kelce was already halfway gone — laughing too loud, drink sloshing in his cup.

"Yo!" he shouted over the wind. "Stella! Come on!"

She looked up from where she was sitting near the railing, her legs tucked under her. "What?"

Kelce grabbed one of the bottles, the sunlight flashing off the glass. "Open up!"

"Oh, no," she said, laughing. "You're insane."

"C'mon! Tradition!" he said, already standing, the boat rocking slightly under his weight.

Sarah groaned. "If you spill that on me again, I'm killing you."

"I won't!" Kelce promised — right before almost tripping over a towel.

Topper shouted from the wheel, "Bro! Sit down before you fall!"

But Stella was already laughing, one hand on her lap, the other reaching for the bottle. "Fine. One shot. You miss, I'm done."

Kelce smirked, steadying himself with one foot on the seat. "Trust me, I've got perfect aim."

"That's debatable," Sarah muttered.

Kelce tilted the bottle carefully, pouring a thin stream into Stella's mouth as she leaned back slightly, laughing between gulps. The liquor burned but she didn't care — the warmth spread through her, making everything brighter, looser.

Everyone started cheering. Sarah whooped. Topper slammed the side of the boat in rhythm to the music.

Even Stella was grinning, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "That was disgusting."

Kelce laughed. "You loved it!"

"Barely," she said, still smiling.

From his spot near the back, Rafe hadn't moved.He sat with one arm resting on the railing, jaw tight, bottle forgotten beside him. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but his expression didn't need translating.

Sarah caught it first and raised her eyebrows, smirking. "Uh-oh."

"What?" Topper asked.

"Nothing," she said quickly, grinning to herself.

Stella turned her head just as Rafe finally stood, brushing past them. He reached for the bottle Kelce was holding and took it from his hand without a word.

Kelce blinked. "Yo, you want some?"

Rafe's voice was calm, low. "I think you've had enough."

Kelce laughed, unfazed. "Relax, man, it's a party."

"Didn't say it wasn't," Rafe said, setting the bottle back down by the cooler — his tone even, but his grip too tight for casual.

Stella looked at him, amused. "You're policing drinks now?"

He smirked without humor. "Just don't need someone throwing up before we get there."

"We can handle ourselves."

"I'm sure you can."

Sarah leaned toward Topper. "Is it just me, or does this feel like deja vu?"

Topper grinned. "Every summer."

Kelce rolled his eyes. "Man's jealous and won't admit it."

Rafe shot him a look sharp enough to end the joke. Kelce raised his hands. "Kidding. Totally kidding."

The tension broke fast — the way it always did with them. Sarah turned the music up again, loud enough to drown out everything else.

The air was thick with salt and laughter and liquor. Stella leaned her head back against the seat, her cheeks flushed, her hair catching the sunlight.

The drinks were officially catching up to her.

Topper pointed ahead. "There's the cove!"

The water ahead shimmered in different shades of blue, calm and open.

Stella was the first to hop out of her seat. "We made it!" she shouted, half laughing, half screaming from the thrill.

She stumbled a bit, more from excitement than the alcohol, then tugged her tank top over her head and shimmied out of her jean shorts, tossing them onto the floor without a care.

Everyone knew Stella was lightweight with her drinks.

Kelce let out a low whistle, eyes dragging down her figure. "Damn, Stel. Didn't know it was that kinda party."

She shot him a grin over her shoulder. "In your dreams, Kelce."

The group laughed, but Stella's eyes were already on Rafe — still leaning against his seat, arms crossed, a teasing smirk tugging at his mouth.

"C'mon, Cameron," she said, stepping towards the edge of the boat, hair sticking to her neck from the humid air. "Don't tell me you're scared to get your hair wet."

Rafe chuckled, slow and low, finally pushing up, off his seat. "You think you can handle me in there, princess?"

"Guess we'll find out," she shot back, voice playful but daring.

He tilted his head, eyes flicking down to the way her fingers toyed with her necklace. "Oh, I think I already know."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Big talk for someone still fully dressed."

That did it — Rafe stripped off his shirt in one smooth motion, tossing it aside. "You asked for it," he said before running forward and scooping her up, ignoring her squeal of protest as he jumped straight into the water with her.

Their laughter filled the day as they surfaced, dripping and breathless — and for a second, no one else existed but the two of them, all spark and tension under the sunlight.