𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟔

CHAPTER SIXTEEN drunken choices make sober mistakes

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"RAFE, WE CAN'T."

I stared at the object in his hand, trying to register the fact that I was being 'proposed to' after only a few days of properly knowing him. My head was telling me it was wrong, but my heart was far from thinking logically.

"Yes we can. We can start fresh here, I can start fresh with you. Nobody back home needs to know, it'll just be our little secret."

Despite the cheesiness of his actions, my lips curled into a wide grin, a warm flush casting across my cheeks. I lifted my hand from under my chin, holding it out for Rafe to be able to put the ring on.

"Fine, if it makes you happy."

"Say it properly first, then I'll be happy." he pulled his hand away.

"I, Camille Fox, take you, Rafe Cameron, to be my unlawfully wedded husband for the night."

"For the night only?" he questioned.

"We'll see."

The boy's face lit up as he took my hand into his, placing the signet ring on my ring finger. He brought my fingers up to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the gold band.

"One whiskey, and one Catalina Margarita." the waitress smiled politely, placing the drinks on our table.

"Thank you." I turned to face the girl, tearing my hands away in order to grab my drink.

"I'd like to make a speech." Rafe raised his whiskey.

"What, is it gonna be about my boobs again?" I joked, referencing the night at The Wreck.

"Might as well be, 'cause we wouldn't be here without that toast."

Although he was kidding, he surprisingly had made an accurate judgment. That night changed my life, and tonight was making me think it was for the better. Never in a million years would I have thought I'd be sitting in a speakeasy on the mainland, drinking expensive cocktails with a Kook 'husband'- yet here I was.

"I'd like to dedicate this night, and this drink, to doing whatever the fuck we want. This whole Kooks versus Pogues thing, it doesn't exist here. Here, we can be whoever we want. I can be whoever I want to be with you, Mills. No reputation, no judgment, just us."

I sat in silence for a moment, truly taking in what he had said. The Rafe I knew back on the island wasn't the Rafe I knew today, and his speech made me think if I had ever really known who he was. I wondered if I ever truly knew him enough to hate him, or if I just hated what he perceived himself to be.

"To being the truest version of ourselves." my glass connected with his, the both of us taking a sip of our drinks in unison.

The flavours of tequila and peach filled my mouth, making me realise how I underestimated the intensity of the cocktail. I shook my head as I struggled to handle the bitter taste, my reaction causing Rafe to laugh.

"What the hell did you order?"

"A margarita. A fuckin' strong one, that's for sure." I wiped my lips, the taste of the drink still affecting me.

"Let me try some."

"You won't like it."

"Today's all about surprises, right? Maybe I'll surprise you again and it ends up being my favourite drink."

"It won't." I giggled.

"You're right, it won't." he chuckled at himself. "I still want some."

"Fine. Not too much, though." I brought the straw up to his lips, allowing him to take a sip.

I watched his face change immediately as he tasted the cocktail, his eyes screwing shut at the bitterness. I couldn't help but snort with laughter, covering my mouth to hide the horrid noise.

"Did you just snort?" he coughed, choking due to the drink and his laughter.

I snorted again, burying my face in my hands whilst I continued laughing. Rafe was affected much less than I was, but the mutual enjoyment made me happy regardless.

"Okay," I gathered my composure, taking another sip of the margarita. "you've learnt about my hideous laugh, now it's time I learn something about you."

"What would you like to know, Mills?"

"Something as equally embarrassing as me snorting."

I watched him take a few moments to think, his now-ringless hand tapping against his whiskey glass. He took an extensive sip of the drink, clearly preparing himself for his humiliating secret.

"Promise not to laugh at me?" he asked.

"I'll try, but I can't guarantee anything."

"Fine," he sighed, "I used to have a really big crush on my 9th grade French teacher. And, in order to impress her, I studied night and day to make myself fluent so I could ask her out."

"And what did she say?" I asked, trying to mask my impending laughter.

"I got put in detention every lunch for the rest of the semester, and not even with her."

I attached my lips to the margarita straw, taking a long sip to hide my huge smile. Even though my snorting was far worse than his little crush, it was still quite funny.

"I'm actually quarter French, fun fact." I resumed, shortly after swallowing the cocktail.

"Really, from May or your dad?"

"My dad. His dad was a Touron, obsessed with travelling through America. He ended up in the Outer Banks for some reason, and met my grandma. Knocked her up and then fucked off back to France."

The alcohol in my system had started to set, meaning I no longer had any filter when it came to my words or actions. I watched Rafe's face expression shift into one of shock, not expecting to hear so much of my family history.

"So that's why you've got a French name then."

"Yup."

"Maybe I can impress you with my amazing French skills." he took my hand into his, intertwining our fingers together.

"Go ahead."

He took a brief second to think, saying a series of French phrases shortly after. I had no idea what he was saying, but I couldn't help but feel attracted to his words.

So that's why French is considered the language of love.

"Now I'm intrigued to find out what that means." I said, caressing his thumb with mine.

"It means I had the time of my life today with you, and I wouldn't have wanted to do anything else with anyone else."

I glued my eyes onto his, the funny feeling in my stomach returning as he looked back. No other person's words ever made me feel so important, and it was certainly unusual to be receiving that feeling from Rafe.

However, I could get used to it.

"Since when are you such a hopeless romantic?"

"Who says it's hopeless?"

My other hand lifted from around the margarita glass, resting on top of where Rafe held mine. I pursed my lips and placed a sequence of soft kisses on our skin, keeping my eyes focused on his.

After savouring the affection for what felt like infinity, I broke the connection of our fingers in order to stand up. I moved around to the other side of the booth, sitting myself down on the boy's lap.

"What are you doing?" he glanced up at me, grinning from ear to ear.

"Pass me your phone."

A rather concerned look painted across his face at the sound of my request, wondering why I had asked such a thing.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna go through it." I reassured. "I just wanna take a few pics of us."

"Is that so?" he smiled up at me, his hand trailing onto my leg.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the phone as per my request and placing it into my hand. Wrapping one of my arms around his neck, I extended the other in order to take the photos.

Even though I didn't have a phone myself, I had familiarised myself with how to use one. Kiara would always ask me to photograph her for her Instagram, and I caved in since none of the other boys were useful enough.

I let my forehead rest against the top of his head, a smirk casting across his face as I started using the phone camera. Our eyes were focused on the small screen, both of us making sure we looked good.

"You're so fucking pretty." he tore his focus onto me, gripping my thigh with progressively more pressure.

Keeping my finger on the photo button, I turned to face Rafe, grinning from his words. With a mixture of alcohol and lust in my system, I had no clear control of my actions anymore. I raised my arm from around his neck, moving my hand to hold onto the side of his jaw.

Shifting my position on his lap, I leaned down to press my lips onto his. The residue of whiskey mixed with the taste of my cocktail, intoxicating me even more. Rafe's hand snaked further up my thigh as he moved into the kiss, reaching the end of my dress.

My attraction to the boy completely took over my body, leaving me with an intense hunger for him. I let go of the phone, moving my hand to play with the buttons on his shirt.

The pads of my fingers traced each button, travelling under the material to feel as much of his skin as possible. I made contact with his abs, running my hand over the muscles.

I slightly moved my hips with the rhythm of our lips, feeding into the friction of our bodies. As a result of the movement, Rafe trailed his hand under my dress- slowly inching closer to my upper thigh in retaliation.

His free hand grabbed onto the sides of my neck, pulling me away from his face. He angled my head downwards, causing me to link my eyes with his.

"You're gonna regret what you started, Camille."