Since your first dinner date a week ago, you had gone with Rafe to the country club at peak hours, and visited the busiest beach in the middle of the day. You were seen by multiple people, and just as you expected, there was quite a buzz about Kildare Island's newest "couple".
You had fielded a few texts from old friends wondering if hell had frozen over since you'd been seen on multiple occasions with the one person they never thought they'd see you with. Funny enough, they had all congratulated you on your new relationship, and expressed how lucky you were to be with him. You were a little surprised they seemed to just accept that you were dating someone you'd never really gotten along with, but you rolled with it.
Now, with the weekend approaching, Rafe was texting you about hanging out again. You had yet to "work on your chemistry" as he called it, but you knew that the longer this lie went on, the harder you would have to work at it to keep it believable.
Rafe: What are you doing tomorrow?
You: I have a brunch date with Allie and a couple other girls at 11:00, but that's it.
Rafe: Come to my house after. Bring your skimpiest bathing suit.
You roll your eyes as you read the message.
You: Subtle, Cameron.
Rafe: Are you coming or not?
You: I'll come over
Rafe: And the bathing suit?
You: Don't push your luck
You toss your phone on your bed and groan. Rafe was starting to get more flirty with you through text, which made you want to smack him upside the head. You had reminded him a handful of times that the purpose of this arrangement was solely to piss off your exes, and that he needed to keep that kind of behavior to public only.
+++
The next morning, as you're getting ready to meet the girls at your brunch spot, you get a text from Allie.
Allie: Bottomless mimosas at the Island Club til noon - bring your fake with you
You raise your eyebrows in surprise. You weren't sure you were ready to try using your fake ID in a place where a lot of people knew you and knew that you weren't twenty-one, but after a moment of thought, you decided it wouldn't hurt to give it a shot.
You: Bringing it. See you soon.
You dig the ID out of your wallet and throw it in the zipper compartment in your tote bag with the other stuff you needed for the day. After much debating, you had, in fact, packed your skimpiest bathing suit for your trip to Rafe's later, if for no other reason than to mess with him. You could already picture his expression when he first saw you in it, and it made you laugh.
Allie comes to pick you up about thirty minutes later, and you meet the other two girls at the entrance to the country club restaurant. The place isn't too busy yet, despite the well-advertised mimosa special.
Brunch is fun, your fake works (it doesn't hurt that your server is someone you've known a while and pretends like it's valid), and you definitely drink too many mimosas to be considered sober. The amount you've drank may be directly related to the fact that you were going to spend some time alone with Rafe, and you weren't really sure how it was going to go without the pretense of a fake date in the public eye.
Allie only has two mimosas during brunch, and she insists she's fine to drive. You're too tipsy to question her, so when you guys finish, you follow her back out to her car.
"Y/n, you're killing me," she giggles as you miss the belt buckle twice before locking your seatbelt into place.
"Champagne always goes straight to my head," you tell her, and she nods.
"I remember," she says, starting up the engine. "Are your parents home? Won't they be pissed if you show up drunk at 12:30 on a Saturday?"
"Oh, I'm not going home actually, if you don't mine dropping me somewhere else?" you say, giving her a hopeful look.
"Where do you want me to drop you at?"
"Rafe's," you answer casually.
"You want me to drop you at Tannyhill?" she asks. "Are his friends there or something?"
"No," you say, turning your attention to the sights outside your window. You're making your way into the neighborhoods of Figure 8.
"So you're just... going there alone? In the middle of the day? And now you're drunk," she says, giving you a knowing look.
"What? I'm barely tipsy," you insist. "It's fine."
"Babe." She gives you another look.
"What? I can't hang out with him?" you ask.
"You can..." She trails off as she turns onto his street.
"There's a 'but' in there, isn't there?"
She laughs. "I was going to say you can hang out with him, but be careful."
"And why do I need to be careful?"
"Because it's Rafe," she tells you.
"He's not going to hurt me or something," you scoff. "I know him well enough now to be confident about that."
"That's not what I'm worried about."
You give her a confused look, but you don't have time to question her, because she's pulling up to the gate in front of Rafe's house.
"Drive me up to the front door, I don't want to walk all that way," you complain as she rolls to a stop at the open gate.
"Fine," she sighs. You pull out your phone as she drives through the gate and follows the driveway up to the house.
You: I'm here
Rafe has his read receipts on, and you see that he's read your message. As Allie rolls to a stop by the front door, it opens, and Rafe steps out. He gives you a little wave as you unbuckle your seat belt and reach into the floorboards for your bag.
"Hey," Allie says, grabbing your arm gently.
"Hmm?"
"Be careful today. You've been drinking."
You make a face at her. "Why do you keep saying that?"
She rolls her eyes. "Never mind. Have fun with your boyfriend."
You open her car door and climb out. You lean back in to say, "Fake boyfriend, remember?" You grin at her as you slam the passenger door shut. She beeps the horn lightly before driving away.
"Hey," Rafe greets you as you approach him. "You seem... relaxed."
You grin up at him. "I'm a little tipsy."
He laughs. "You went to the country club for brunch, didn't you?"
You give him an innocent shrug. "Maybe. Where can I change?"
"You actually brought a swimsuit?"
"You said to bring my skimpiest bikini. So?" you ask, adjusting your bag on your shoulder.
"Follow me," he says. He leads the way into the house, shutting and locking the front door behind you. He starts up the spiral staircase. At the top of the stairs, he motions for you to turn right, and you follow him to a closed door. He opens it, revealing a stereotypical high school athlete's bedroom. Pendants from a few different schools, his letterman patch, and a trophy shelf are along one wall.
"You can use my bathroom," he says, gesturing to an open door.
You peer in after flipping the light on. You half expected it to be disgusting, and are pleasantly surprised when it isn't. "In here?" you ask.
"Yeah. You can leave your stuff in there, too, if you want," he says.
"Okay. Thanks," you tell him.
"Need any help?" he asks, and you scowl at him.
"Nice try," you laugh. You lightly shove him away from you, then shut and lock the bathroom door.
You quickly shed your brunch outfit and pull the small, black, string bikini from your bag. You chuckle to yourself as you tie it on and adjust it on your body. You fold your clothes and put them in your bag, leaving it on the long marble counter. You unlock the bathroom door and open it.
Rafe is sitting on the edge of his bed, absorbed in looking at something on his phone. He hasn't heard you come out, so you make your presence known.
"Are you ready to swim?" you ask casually.
He glances up at you, then has to do a double take. "Oh, shit," he mumbles, unable to hide the way his eyes trail your bikini-clad form.
"Well?" you prompt him again.
"Uh, yeah," he answers, fumbling to slide his phone in his pocket as he stands. "Let's go."
You lead the way out of the room, swaying your hips a little extra as you walk. You can feel his gaze burning a hole in you from behind. Once you've made it back to the first floor, Rafe takes the lead through the house as you head to the back patio. He stops at a closet along the way to grab towels for both of you.
Outside, he drops the towels on a couple chairs beside the pool. "You won't jump in," he challenges, tossing his hat on a chair and bringing his shirt up and over his head.
"You're right, I won't," you say, subtly eyeing Rafe as he kicks off his Birkenstock's and walks to the edge of the pool.
You'd be lying to yourself if you said you'd never noticed Rafe was attractive. You weren't blind, but you were stubborn. Admitting that he was good looking would be admitting that he had the same effect on you that he had on every other girl on the island. He was incredibly charming, too, but of course you'd never admit that, either.
"You coming in or what?" Rafe asks, splashing a little bit of water at your feet. You didn't even realize he had gotten in.
"Oh, right," you mumble. You walk over to the stairs so you can ease your way in. Rafe waits patiently as you descend into the water. The water feels good, so it doesn't take you much time at all to adjust to the temperature difference. The Cameron family pool provides the perfect respite from the oppressive heat.
Once you're all the way in, Rafe makes his way over to you, pushing his wet hair away from his face. The slicked back look on him is reminiscent of high school, and you have to make a snarky comment.
"There's the Rafe I remember," you say, moving further into the pool away from the shallow end. "Slicked back hair and a 'I'm better than you' smirk on your face."
He laughs. "Back to my roots," he jokes. He reaches up to his hair and messes it up a little, getting rid of the slicked back look. "You always had jokes about my hair."
"You always styled it like you were on your way to a board meeting," you reply. "The new look you've been sporting is much better."
"Yeah?" He shakes his hair out, spraying you with water droplets, causing you to shout in protest. "Does it turn you on?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
You laugh. "Not a chance," you say, shaking your head.
"Hmm, too bad," he says. "'Cause I gotta be honest, this tiny little bathing suit is kinda doing it for me."
You blush and duck down into the water more, swimming into the deeper water to hide your red cheeks. "Pervert."
"I haven't completely changed," he quips, grinning at you when you turn around to face him.
You grab onto the side of the pool so you don't have to tread water. "And you never will," you reply.
"Would you want me to?" he asks. He moves closer to you. He's tall enough to still be standing on the bottom of the pool.
You raise an eyebrow at him. "Certainly wouldn't hurt."
He frowns. "You think I'm that bad?"
"You've kind of always been a jerk," you say, and his frown deepens.
"I used to be, and I'm sorry. I..." he trails off. He isn't about to tell you that he was a jerk to you because it was easier than letting his true feelings show. You probably would've laughed in his face if you knew how he really felt about you. "I shouldn't have acted that way. I swear I'm different now. College has kind of been a reality check."
"Oh?" you ask, your curiosity getting the best of you. "Is this an apology?"
"Yeah. I was an asshole back then," he says.
"Four years of antagonizing me isn't going to be forgiven in one apology, but you can work on making it up to me," you tell him.
"Oh, don't act like it was all one sided. You were just as mean to me as I was to you," he says, on the defensive.
"You were pretty quick to help me out at the boneyard with James, so I couldn't have been that bad," you retort.
You have him there. You always had a comeback or a quick remark to make to him, but he brought it on himself more times than not. He shrugs. "Maybe I was just trying to start over and make up for lost time."
You hum in response. "Not sure what you mean by make up for lost time, but okay."
He's quiet for a moment. His phone dings from beside the pool. "Topper's having a house party tonight," he says, reading his text.
"Yeah?" you inquire.
"Yeah, he said we should come around 10:00," he replies. He's tapping out a reply as he speaks.
"Does he know about... this?" you ask.
"The truth?" he asks, looking up from his phone. You nod. "Yeah. He knows. He's the only one though."
"Allie is the only person that knows out of my friends," you say. "Can I invite her?"
Rafe gets another text. "Yeah, invite anyone you want." He's typing again. "Top says anyone is game. He's getting a few kegs, but if you don't want beer, I can bring you something if you tell me what you want."
"I can get my own booze," you tell him. "But I'll be there."
"Um, I was thinking we would go together?" he says. "You know, since we're 'dating'," he says with air quotes.
"Oh, right. So what time are you picking me up?"
"You're making me pick you up when you live in the opposite direction of Topper's house?" he scoffs.
"Well, I'm not driving, because then I can't get drunk."
"I don't want to drive either, for the same exact reason. We can walk," he says, typing again. "I'll drive the two blocks to your house to get you, and then we'll walk from here."
"Well that seems stupid. It's two blocks. I'll just walk over here I guess," you say.
"I could still come get you, so you don't have to walk alone," he suggests. Anything for a little more one on one time with you.
"I'll allow it. 9:45?"
"On the dot," he promises.
You guys swim and talk a little while longer, until your mimosas start to wear off and you're ready for a nap. You dry off and Rafe walks you back upstairs so you can change out of your wet bathing suit back into your clothes from earlier. He walks with you back to the front door as you are about to leave.
"Actually, wait," he says, grabbing his keys from a bowl next to the door. "I'll drive you."
"Rafe, you don't—"
"You said you were tired, and I'm making you walk all the way to Topper's tonight. The least I can do is drive you home now."
You consider this for a moment. It's really close, but you're feeling sort of lazy, so why not? "Okay, let's roll, then."
The drive back to your house takes less than five minutes. You say your goodbyes to each other, and Rafe promises to be back at your house at 9:45 to walk with you over to Topper's party. After you're safely inside your house, Rafe lets out a heavy sigh and leans his forehead against his steering wheel. You were incredibly easy to get along with, especially when he wasn't putting on the act that he couldn't stand you. When you guys went out in public, he had to remind himself constantly that it wasn't real; you two weren't on a real date, you weren't a real couple, you weren't actually into him. You were great at faking it, though. Too good sometimes, to the point where he was starting to question things. He couldn't think like that, though, because the goal of all of this was to piss off your exes, and tonight, you two had one hell of a show to put on.
authors note:
The next chapterrrrrrrr omg buckle up y'all