4

THE pavement burned beneath Stella's feet. It was the hottest day of the week, and with her father back in Europe, someone had to take charge of their boat.

Normally, she'd call the gardener or their maid, but today neither was available. So, it was up to Stella to take care of it.

She hissed at the stinging pain on the bottom of her feet as she sped toward the dock, but once she got there, she soon realized she had no clue what she was doing.

"Fuck" She grumbled, standing near the large boat, debating if she should call someone for help. She was standing in only a sports bra and mini shorts, clueless.

The blonde took a deep sigh, picked up her phone, and searched through her contacts. Then, she came to a realization: Topper owed her for the incident last week—he could do it.

With a proud smile, she picked up the phone and dialed. "Hello?" Topper's voice came through the line.

Stella cleared her throat, attempting a sweet voice. "Hey, Topper," she chirped, her voice unusually high.

"What's up?" he asked, a note of skepticism lacing his words.

"Well... I'm kinda in charge of the boat," she began, pausing for his reaction.

"And?" he prompted, his tone unchanged.

A nervous giggle escaped Stella's lips. "I have no idea what I'm doing," she blurted out, anxiously biting on her perfectly manicured nails as she waited for him to say something.

Silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity before a loud sigh echoed from the other end. "Alright, I'll be there in like twenty," he relented, his tone laced with annoyance.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Stella squealed, hanging up before he could change his mind.

She knew Topper wouldn't refuse her. No man ever did. She was the Kook princess, and they were all too eager to assist her. In their eyes, she was the 'precious Stella'.

•••

She was sat on the dock, dipping her feet into the cold water. Stella didn't mind waiting, in fact she loved the time she had to herself. It gave her time to think.

Footsteps became louder as they approached the blonde, now with the anonymous person clearing their throat behind Stella. "Perfect, you're here!" She smiled while she got up from her spot and turned over towards who she thought was Topper.

As she turned, the smile froze on her face. "Rafe?" she breathed, her eyes widening in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

The tall Cameron stood before Stella, hands casually tucked into his pockets. "Topper said you needed help," He offered with a shrug.

Stella opened her mouth to reply, but no words came. Her attention was completely focused on Rafe's face. He looked different somehow—his skin tanned, his hair falling just so above his eyebrows.

"I—yeah, I did actually," She finally managed, gesturing toward the boat. Rafe immediately headed over to it. "I don't really know what to do."

He nodded, stepping inside and moving toward the engine. "You just need to check the fluid levels," he explained, bending down to examine the dipstick.

Stella pursed her lips, watching as he efficiently checked everything. As she observed him, one thought consumed her: How could he make something so casual look so effortlessly attractive? She quickly shook off the thought, realizing she was thinking about Rafe Cameron. The Rafe Cameron. The boy she had grown up with since she was four years old.

After a few minutes, Rafe finally stood up, turning back to face Stella. "Everything looks good. Just fill the tank before you take it for a spin."

Stella smiled gratefully. "You're a lifesaver," she giggled, making Rafe smile and shake his head at the compliment.

"Really, thank you for the help," She said, walking beside Rafe as they headed off the boat. "I appreciate it."

Rafe shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes scanning the docks as they walked.

As they reached his motorcycle, Stella paused, tilting her head slightly. "So, why did you come instead of Topper?"

Rafe leaned against the bike, now with a smirk playing on his lips. "Topper's busy. Besides," he added, pushing off the red motorcycle, "I figured you'd prefer my help."

Stella rolled her eyes, though a smile played on her lips despite herself. "You wish," She scoffed, realizing what he was doing. Typical Rafe, always flirting.

He leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Oh, come on, Stella. There's no denying it. I saw the way you look at me."

"Says the one who went out of his way to help the girl who called his friend," She shot back, her tone light and teasing. He chuckled, a warm, breathy sound that sent a shiver down her spine, though he neither confirmed nor denied her accusation. With a final smirk, he hopped into his motorcycle and sped away, leaving Stella standing there, a mix of amusement and something else fluttering in her chest.

This was their normal. A constant back-and-forth of flirting and teasing, a game they'd been playing since they were teenagers. Rafe Cameron was undeniably hot, and Stella knew she wasn't hard on the eyes either, but there was always something more beneath the surface, a connection that neither of them seemed quite ready to acknowledge.

hey guys! let me know what you want to see from Stella and Rafe... the teasing is killing me i need them together already