𝙍𝙄𝙋𝙏𝙄𝘿𝙀 BOOK ONE || 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐁𝐗 𝐅𝐢𝐜

𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℌ𝔦𝔡𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔡

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Wicked Games - The Weeknd

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

3:17 ———|———— -5:23

𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓌𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒

𝒯𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓁

𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Sarah was still on the lawn with Topper making out in the hammock, while Isla and Dean stood at the bar. Rolling her eyes, she laughed hearing Dean beside her trying to convince the bartender he was twenty one with his fake ID.

Rafe and his guys were playing poker, every time he raked the winning chips to him, he'd send her a discreet wink. 

"C'mon, it says it right here." Dean flashed a charming grin, flicking his ID and leaning over the bar to flirt.

"Look man, I'm not trying to get fired tonight." The bartender chuckled, flipping his rag over his shoulder and walking across the bar to serve some old ladies.

"What the hell?" Dean cursed under his breathe, "I paid good money for this too." He groaned.

Isla tried to stifle her giggle, "yeah, it's so hard to believe you're not from Alaska, I can't believe it Mr. Harold Thompson." She nudged him. 

Dean scrunched his nose up.

"Maybe I can help with that." Isla turned to see Max in a khaki shirt and cream trousers. "What can I get you Miss?" He shot her a wink.

"Hi!" She hugged him instinctively, "I didn't know you were coming tonight?" She smiled, always happy to see him.

Max shrugged, pulling out his wallet. "Yeah well, parents dragged me out. My older brother, Cody is around here somewhere too ..." 

"I'll have a coke, if that's okay?" She asked, looking to Dean for him to give an order. 

"Me too, but with vodka - thanks man." Dean clapped him on the back, as they walked out to the deck to sit on the sun loungers. She felt a hand catch her wrist, Rafe's touch setting her alight, a small piece of paper pressed to her palm. Biting her lip she tucked it into her bag. 

The deck outside was wrapped up in the same fairy lights, and the sun loungers were placed right in front of the french glass doors, so they could see through to the bar. Isla tried to pry her eyes away from Rafe who was staring intently at his hand of cards.

As Dean stretched out he grinned from ear to ear. "Max has a thing for you..." He coaxed.

"No, he doesn't, he's just a flirt." Isla shook her head at him. "Besides, Max is my friend." 

Dean raised an eyebrow and sat back up. "What is wrong with your girl? I just don't get it... Max Garcia is a hot surf god on the whole island, he is quite literally perfect for you! Wait..." Dean looked her in the eyes, seeing her shift in her seat, "is there someone else?" 

Isla scoffed. "No, it's not that come on. I don't know, I just don't want to force anything." She tried to excuse herself.

"Isla, hun, the chemistry between you two is wild, don't deny it!" Dean giggled, smirking seeing her hide her face in her hands.