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cakesunflower · 3 months ago

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lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 11

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

The weather is perfect for an outdoor party, not too hot despite it being summer, so Isla’s parents lucked out for their anniversary party. The sun is shining, though it’s not blistering hot as it begins its descent into the evening, and there’s a pleasant breeze that teases Isla’s skin, exposed thanks to the summer dress she’s wearing. Much to her relief, all of the dessert she had ordered had arrived exactly when it should have, decorating the dessert table near the bar.

The decorations included gold and white balloons tied to the tables and chairs, two number balloons that read 20 in front of a backdrop of the same color theme with a banner above that says Happy Anniversary. Along with the desserts, the table also holds small bottles of bubbles for guests as party favors to enjoy throughout the nice that has Mike & Anna’s 20th written on them. There’s a live band that plays music while everyone mingles, two bartenders serving the guests as Isla’s parents greet and thank people for coming.

Isla and Kie’s friends were invited as well, along with their families; it’s majority Kooks, with some Pogues sprinkled in—and Kie had, very specifically, warned their friends to be on their best behavior and not get into it with any of the Kooks. As long as they keep away from each other throughout the party, things should be fine. The last thing anyone needs is a fight breaking out during her parents’ anniversary party.

“Sarah’s here,” Cleo says, looking past Isla’s shoulder as she bites into a cupcake.

The group of them are by the dessert table, idly eating and enjoying the music. Isla’s heart jumps as she turns to look, her gaze immediately landing on Rafe as he arrives with his family. He’s in a simple blue polo and beige pants, sunglasses covering his eyes, and Isla bites the inside of her cheek at the sight of him. Isla also sees her parents approach the Camerons to greet them, just as she feels a nudge to her side.

“Come on,” Kie says with a sigh. “You know Mom’s gonna want us to go say hi.” Glancing over at John B, she adds with a teasing grin, “Don’t worry, we’ll bring your girlfriend around.”

He rolls his eyes, the wind dancing through his tousled hair. “Thank you so much,” he says dryly.

Kie hooks her arm with Isla’s and pulls her along, nearly making her stumble thanks to the wedges she’s wearing, the necklaces she’s layered tinkling together as she moves. Her sister is in sneakers so with her heels, Isla’s the same height as Kie, which she finds both ridiculous and hilarious.

They approach their parents and the Camerons, and Isla smiles at Sarah before she notices the slight shift in Rafe’s head and Isla swears, despite the sunglasses covering his eyes, he’s looking right at her. She can feel it in the way her skin prickles with awareness and Isla has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her smile from growing. With a glance at Kie, she sees her sister not even acknowledge Rafe, which isn’t surprising, and instead is offering polite smiles to Sarah’s parents, and more genuine ones to Sarah and Wheezie.

“The place looks beautiful,” Rose comments, looking around the decorated area.

“All thanks to my girls,” Anna says, smiling at Isla and Kie. “Kie helped with the decorations, and Isla personally took care of all the dessert and made sure it got here on time from Chapel Hill.”

The mention of that has Isla’s gaze subtly flickering to Rafe. His head is dipped as he fixes the watch on his wrist, but she sees the way his eyes flick up from over the rim of his sunglasses, blue eyes meeting green as, in that moment, they both reminisce about their day together. A secret between them among their families and Isla’s cheeks flush, forcing herself to look away before anyone else notices.

“Sarah,” Kie says, nodding her head to where the others are.

While the parents talk—Wheezie having wandered off to find kids her age—Sarah and Kie begin walking to where their friends are, and Isla suppresses a sigh as she slowly turns to follow them. Her gaze meets Rafe’s once more, and he shoots her a small smile, a mutual understanding between them that as much as they want, they can’t exactly hang out at her parents’ party.

Even still, as she walks off with her friends, Isla feels a tug in her chest, as though her body is begging her to go back to Rafe. But she can’t, and she forces herself not to look affected as she rejoins her friends. “This is all so Kook-central,” JJ says, blue eyes looking around at the several guests around.

Kie rolls her eyes. “Enjoy the free food, JJ,” she tells him with a laugh, picking up a cupcake and offering it to him.

JJ takes it with an incomprehensible mutter. “How am I supposed to keep it down when Top’s stupid face is right there?” he asks, even as he takes a bite of the cupcake, blue frosting smearing at the corner of his mouth.

Isla and the others follow JJ’s gaze where Topper is standing at the other side of the party, sipping a drink and standing with a few other Kooks that Sarah went to school with—including Rafe. They’re chatting among themselves, sipping their drinks, and Isla doesn’t miss the way Topper looks back at them and glares. Specifically at Sarah and John B, because apparently he hasn’t moved on despite it being over a year since Sarah started dating John B.

“He’s never gonna let it go, is he?” Pope muses, seemingly thinking the same as Isla.

“One can only hope,” Sarah huffs, turning to give her back to her ex as John B’s arm goes around her shoulders.

Isla sees the way Topper’s glare tightens before he looks away, taking a long sip of his drink. Unable to help herself, Isla’s gaze slides to Rafe, who stands leaning back against the railing that separates the area the party is in from the sidewalk leading up to the dock. His sunglasses hang from the neckline of his shirt, elbows resting on the railing behind him as he laughs at something Kelce says.

She looks away quickly before she gets caught staring—gawking, admiring—and tunes back into the conversation in time to hear Cleo ask her and Kie, “When are your parents leaving?”

As his anniversary gift to their mom, Isla’s dad surprised her mom with two tickets for a long weekend away in Vermont, from this coming Friday morning to Monday evening. Their parents don’t often go away, since they like to be in town for the restaurant, but between Isla and Kie and the restaurant’s assistant manager, Holly, and the fact that it’s their anniversary, they’re making an exception to go to Vermont for four days.

“This Friday,” Kie answers with an excited wiggle of her eyebrows.

“Party?” JJ asks, perking up with brightened eyes.

Both Isla and Kie shoot him a look, simultaneously responding, “Hell, no.”

As much as Isla and her sister love going to parties, hosting them is a whole monster that neither of them particularly enjoy. Because while the party itself could be fun, the aftermath of cleaning up isn’t something Isla and her sister want to deal with at all, even if they recruit their friends to help.

JJ blows a raspberry, shoulders slumping. “Lame,” he remarks, laughing when Kie smacks his arm and takes another bite of the cupcake. “Shit, these are delicious,” he adds with an appreciative mumble.

“We can get them for your birthday,” Kie offers and Isla suppresses a knowing smile, her eyes meeting Sarah’s knowingly. Jeez, Isla wishes her sister and JJ would just get their heads out of their asses and get together already. Especially when JJ’s gaze softens ever so slightly at Kie’s offer, his smile turning appreciative. Isla is certain she’s only seen him smile like that at Kie.

John B reaches around Cleo and snatches up one of the bubble bottles, twisting the top off to reveal the wand. Pointing it upwards, he blows and several bubbles of all sizes form out, Isla grinning as they seem to rain down on mostly her and Sarah.

Isla holds a hand forward, grin widening as a bubble lands in her palm, lingering for a second before it pops. “Pass me one,” she says to Cleo, who’s standing closest to the table.

Cleo tosses her one bottle, keeping another for herself, and soon each of them have their own bottle and Isla grins, taking a step back as she pulls out the wand and tilts her chin back to blow some out. Her eyes watch with childlike fascination, the rainbow of colors reflecting in the bubbles as they float, some popping quickly while others dance along the breeze, several in the air thanks to the whole group blowing the bubbles.

Sarah faces her, her own grin wide and small wand in hand, and she and Isla laugh as they blow bubbles at each other, squinting her eyes as one pops a few inches away from her face, though it doesn’t sting her eyes, fortunately. Giggling, Sarah says, “Maybe your parents decided to have these to distract us from starting shit.”

Isla snorts out a laugh, shaking her head. “Smart thinking on their part,” she says, dipping the wand back into the bottle. As she pulls it out again, Isla’s gaze flicks to the left, feeling the weight of someone’s gaze on her, and her heart trips to see Rafe staring at her. Or she assumes, given the fact that he’s wearing sunglasses, but he’s facing this way. And the way her skin prickles, she just knows he’s watching her. The distance between them feels too great and—

All of a sudden, her view of Rafe is obstructed as her mom appears in view. “Hey, honey,” she greets with a breathless smile. “Can you do me a favor?” she asks, digging into her purse and pulling out her car keys. “I left my jacket in the car, can you bring it?”

“Jacket?” Isla blinks, spinning the top closed as she lets out a chuckle. “Isn’t it a little warm for a jacket?”

Anna scoffs, holding out the keys. “It’s not a jacket-jacket. More like a lace cover up. Pulls the outfit together and, plus, it’s going to get a little chilly when the sun goes down.” Her dark eyes give her a look over, as well as Kie standing behind her, chatting with the others. “You girls should’ve brought something to wear over, too.”

Isla laughs, taking the keys. “Alright, alright. I’ll get it.” Glancing at her friends, she tells them, “I’ll be right back.”

The gravel crunches under her shoes as she walks towards the main opening of the party area, walking around the metal fence separating the area with the sidewalk and heading towards the parking lot. It’s pretty crowded, almost every spot filled, not just with people attending Isla’s parents’ party but for the restaurants around and since it’s tourist season, padding boating on the water nearby.

Her dad’s pick up truck is a few rows away and Isla weaves between the other cars until she reaches it, walking around to the passenger side. Squinting slightly against the sunlight, she opens the passenger door and frowns when she doesn’t see her mom’s cover up before her gaze flickers and sees it in the backseat.

Huffing, Isla shuts the door and opens the back passenger door, leaning in to reach for the lace cover-up towards the other end, stepping up on the runner to be closer. A breeze tickles the back of her thighs and Isla reaches back to make sure she’s not flashing anyone—not that she thinks anyone could even see anything given the tons of cars around. Once the cover-up is in hand, Isla moves backwards and puts her foot back on the ground, gravel crunching once more, and is about to step away to close the door when a hand suddenly lands on her hip.

Isla freezes for a split second, feeling the warmth of someone behind her, before a familiar voice says, “Anyone ever tell you yellow’s your color?”

A shiver rushes down her spine, a smile tugging up the corners of her lips as Rafe’s hand slides from her hip to her front, resting on her stomach as he pulls her to him. His touch is warm, burning her deliciously through the thin material of her dress as she feels his solid torso pressing against her back.

He makes her pulse quicken as Isla tilts her head to the side the slightest, sighing happily when she feels his lips skim the side of her neck. “I think you’re the first,” she replies, her voice surprisingly not as breathless as she feels at the softness of his lips.

“Hm,” he hums and she can sense the smile as he kisses her neck, spreading heat throughout her body. It’s risky, being here like this with him. But they’re on the other side of the truck from the party, and the height of it blocks them anyway, if anyone were to look. Rafe’s hand slides even further to her other hip, tightening his hold to turn her around, and Isla smiles as she finally looks up at his face, sunglasses still covering his eyes.

She watches as his own smile curves up his lips, the sight making her pulse quicken as his strong arm wraps around her waist, holding her close. Her free hand slides up his chest, the material of his shirt soft, until her arm is loosely wrapped around his neck. “You look pretty good in blue,” she tells him through a smile.

Rafe arches an eyebrow, dipping his chin so their eyes can meet over the glasses. “Just pretty good?” he asks, still smiling.

Isla’s smile widens. With her mom’s cover-up draped across her arm, she reaches her hand up and swiftly swipes his sunglasses off. Rafe squints briefly against the sunlight, his smile remaining as he watches Isla put the Ray Bans on her face. Warmth spreads through her chest at the way his eyes soften, watching Isla give a sly grin. “Very handsome,” she corrects before lifting her chin. “How do I look?”

Rafe’s hand rests on her lower back, blue eyes looking over her face, his bangs grazing past his eyebrows. “Very much like a girl I want to kiss.”

Her heart skips a beat or two, her fingers teasing his hair at the back of his head. She glances over her shoulder, though the truck obscures her view of anything. “We don’t have much time,” Isla says as she turns back to face him.

Rafe is already leaning towards her, Isla’s grin growing the closer he gets as she takes his sunglasses and slides them up to rest on the top of her head. His hand on her back increases pressure and his gaze drops to her lips, heat slipping through her veins as Rafe’s voice drops low when he murmurs, “Any time with you is worth it.”

He seals his words by pressing his lips to hers, barely giving Isla any time to think of what he just said, too distracted by the way he kisses her. Isla’s stomach presses against his, humming happily against Rafe’s lips as he leans towards her, and Isla’s fingers thread through his hair at the back of his head as Rafe moves her backward until she’s leaning against the edge of the backseat.

When his tongue slides into her mouth, a low moan escapes Isla, and it seems to push Rafe in moving his hand that’s resting at the small of her back until his arm winds itself around her, just under her ass, and Isla gasps out a laugh into the kiss when he suddenly lifts her just enough to rest her on the seat. Rafe leans forward, ducking into the truck, and all thoughts eddie out of Isla’s head as she parts her legs to let his lean body fit between them where he stands next to the truck, and Isla’s heart thunders wildly at the way Rafe’s tongue teases hers.

This is so risky, Isla knows, but God, she can’t bring herself to care when Rafe’s kisses make her head spin so wildly. Anyone could walk by and spot them, but it doesn’t really matter right now. She’s already addicted to the taste of him, has already memorized the shape and feel of his lips as she sucks on his lower lip, relishing in the deep groan he releases. His hands slide along the sides of her thighs, somehow both heat and goosebumps spreading through her skin in response to his touch, and her own fingers tighten in his hair.

“It drives me fucking crazy,” Rafe mumbles, Isla gasping against his lips when she feels his fingers press into the flesh of her thighs. Her heart is running a mile a minute, heat dampening her underwear at having him so close and desperately needing him—but knowing now definitely isn’t the time. It’s all she can think until Rafe continues, “Seeing you like this and not being able to even fucking talk to you.”

“Like this?” Isla questions breathlessly as Rafe’s lips trail kisses down the line of her jaw, her head tilting back and eyes shut as she enjoys his kisses.

The air hitches in her throat when Rafe kisses in that spot right where her jaw and neck meet. “Beautiful,” Rafe answers, grip on her tightening, pulling her close.

Isla moans as his teeth teasingly nip at her skin, and she cups his face and brings it back up so she can kiss him again. “You’re tired of keeping this a secret already?” she asks, her words practically a whisper. “We only just started.”

Their kiss breaks for a moment and Isla’s eyes flutter open to see Rafe looking down at her with his own hooded eyes. Her heart launches to her throat when she sees his kiss swollen lips, slightly glittering with the shine of her lip gloss having rubbed off on him. The sight only dampens her underwear even more, breathing heavily against him. His blue eyes have darkened and, God, the way he’s looking at her, like he wants to swallow her whole. Oh, she’d let him.

“I know,” Rafe replies, his voice roughened. One of his hands slides away from the hem of her dress, coming up to brush her dark hair out of her face. Her racing heart melts when his knuckles gently graze along her cheekbones, watching her with a look that has her sliding her hand out of his hair and resting at the side of his neck.

Some of the haze of lust fades away as Rafe straightens, Isla sitting on the edge of the seat sideways, his body still standing between her legs. “You changing your mind?” she asks him with a slight tilt of her head. Her stomach knots slightly at the idea of Rafe having any kind of regret when it comes to her and this relationship.

His gaze snaps back to hers, forehead creasing. “Absolutely not,” he says firmly, the conviction in his voice relaxing Isla as she rubs her lips together for a second. “It’s just. . . An adjustment,” he finishes with a flash of a half smile.

“Dating a Pogue?” Isla supplies with a small, teasing smirk.

He huffs out a laugh, rolling his eyes. “No,” he says, and that alone makes her heart swell. Such a small thing, but it somehow holds a lot of significance for her. Meeting her gaze, Rafe clarifies, “Wanting someone so badly and not being able to kiss you whenever the hell I want.”

“It’s hard for me too,” Isla tells him with a gentle smile, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. In the distance, she can hear the party going on, the chatter of people overpowered by the music playing by the band. But her gaze is on Rafe. “It’s only temporary though, right? Just for now. Just until the time is right to tell everyone.”

Truth be told, Isla isn’t a hundred percent certain when the time will be right to tell her friends about her and Rafe. She wants her and Rafe to be seeing each other for a bit, to be in an established relationship between them, before she tells them. So they don’t think she’s lost her mind, or think she’s only hooking up with him. No matter when she tells them, or how, no doubt the Pogues will have something or another to say.

It’s a thought that makes her more anxious than she’d like to think, trying her best not to dwell on it too hard. The fact of the matter is, Isla just wants to enjoy being with Rafe, to savor the excitement that comes with sneaking around, and get to know him more and more while they’re alone in their bubble. This thing between them, tentatively unlabeled but quickly heading in the direction she wants it to, is still very new and they both are learning to navigate it. She doesn’t want to put a timer on things as to when they can be public—when she will tell her friends. And she hopes Rafe is in the same mindset as her. Though, as with any healthy relationship, open communication is where it all comes down to, isn’t it?

Throat working briefly, Isla continues, “I know it’s annoying to keep this a secret—” She trails a finger along the sharp curve of his jaw until it’s under his chin, tipping his face towards her, smiling gently when his softening eyes meet hers. “And that it’d be much easier to be with someone you don’t have to sneak ar—”

“What’d I tell you before?” Rafe asks with an arch of his eyebrow. “I don’t care that we have to hide, because I know it’s important for you to find the right time to tell my sister and your friends.” He smiles then, giving a one shouldered shrug. “I’m just looking forward to the day we can do whatever we want, whenever we want. No matter how far down the road that is.”

Her heart swells. “Yeah?”

Rafe dips his chin in a nod, pressing a swift kiss to her lips. “Yeah,” he answers, pulling back with a smile.

She relaxes even more, his reassuring words providing more comfort than she expects. “Well, in that case,” she starts slowly, smile growing as she shifts her hand so it’s cupping his jaw, using her thumb to wipe at his lips to get rid of the glitter from her lip gloss still on his lips. “How ’bout another date?” Isla tilts her head, briefly biting her bottom lip when she sees the way his eyebrows flick upwards in curiosity. “Our third one,” she adds with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

“Third?” he asks with a laugh, moving back so Isla can get out of the truck, her mom’s cover up in hand as she fixes the skirt of her dress. As Isla takes off her sunglasses and hands them back to Rafe, he asks, “When’d we have the second one?”

She laughs as he taps a closed fist on top of his folded sunglasses. “I think our day in the park counts as a second date,” she muses.

Rafe shoots her a flat expression. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” she shrugs with a grin. “But it’s my turn to plan the date this time.”

His expression shifts to one of amused curiosity, his smile making her heart flutter. As always. “Oh, yeah?” he asks, his hand reached out so his fingers lightly grasp her chin. Her skin sizzles when he touches her, air locking in her throat when his thumb gently wipes at the skin just beneath her bottom lip. She has a feeling he’s wiping away her smeared lip gloss.

“Yeah,” she breathes out, wanting to lean into him and kiss him again. But she can hear the party, and no doubt her parents and friends will begin wondering where she is. “Friday night?”

Her parents leave in the morning and she has a shift at The Wreck, but it’s not a closing shift. She also knows for a fact that Kie is going to be at the movies at the park with Cleo, because they both have a wild crush on Dev Patel and Monkey Man is playing, and while Isla doesn’t know about the others, she knows they’ll be busy, too. It’d be the perfect night for her and Rafe to hang out.

“I’m down,” Rafe says with a grin. “Text me the details?”

She nods, running her fingers through her hair before gently rubbing at her lips. Her purse is back at the party, so she can’t fix her lip gloss, so she just hopes for the best as she asks Rafe, “I look okay?”

Rafe’s gaze lingers on her face, flickering around as though he’s watching every feature—from the curve of her eyelashes to the gold nose ring to the pout of her lips. It only makes her stomach flutter. “Gorgeous,” he says, voice low and reverent and enough to make that flutter into a hurricane. Rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb, Rafe looks past her for a second before saying, “You go ahead. I’ll, uh, be back in a bit.”

His eyes drop down for a moment and Isla’s eyebrows raise as she follows his gaze until it stops at his pants, noting the very prominent bulge that has Isla’s throat drying in realization. The heat that had melted through her veins returns in that second, desire tightening her throat as she forces her gaze to flicker back up to him. When she meets his gaze again, he doesn’t look embarrassed—not that he should—but the way he’s got a ghost of a smirk has her pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth, because she knows he knows exactly what’s going through her head.

“Um, yeah, sounds good,” Isla says with a quick clearing of her throat, cheeks flushing deeply that she’s sure she resembles a tomato. She also does her very best not to think about how, so far, they’ve only just kissed and she can’t wait for the moment they finally get to do more. “I’m, um, gonna go.”

Rafe’s smirk widens and Isla can feel his gaze on her as she shuts the truck door and locks it. When she looks up at him, Isla shakes her head, rolling her lips into her mouth briefly when he chuckles. “Don’t look at me like that,” she mumbles, lightly smacking the sleeve of her mom’s cover up against Rafe’s chest as she moves to go past him.

He laughs again and Isla gasps slightly when his arm slides around her once more, hand on her stomach, and stops her long enough for him to duck his head forward and press a swift kiss to her cheek. “See you there,” he murmurs against her skin before pulling back, and oh boy, the butterflies in her belly belong to him.

Isla walks back to the party before she convinces herself to stay with him, the music and chatter growing louder the closer she gets. She swears her lips still tingle from kissing Rafe, struggling to bite back a smile as she easily finds her mom talking to some guests.

“Thanks, baby,” Anna says with a smile as she takes the cover up, before doing a double take. Her forehead creases, turning away from the others to face Isla fully. “You okay? You look flushed,” she adds, lightly pressing the back of her hand against Isla’s cheek.

Isla blinks, forcing her eyes not to widen in surprise as to not give away anything. Sure, her mom knew that Isla went on a date with Rafe, and her mom’s been great about keeping things quiet—especially from Kiara. Still, Isla isn’t exactly ready to tell her mom that the reason for her oh-so-flushed cheeks is because she has just finished making out with Rafe in her dad’s truck.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Isla assures with a laugh that she hopes doesn’t sound too forced.

Anna pulls her hand back, looking at her for a moment. Her gaze flicks around before stepping towards Isla, dipping her chin even as her gaze remains locked with Isla’s. “I know Kie and your friends have some issues with Rafe,” her mom whispers, which Isla isn’t expecting her to say. “Everything good on that front?”

Isla’s gaze flicks to where her friends are, sitting at a table now and talking amongst themselves, keeping their distance away from the Kooks and enjoying their little bubble. She loves that bubble. Even if, right now, there’s a fear of popping it because of her evolving relationship with Rafe.

“Mom,” Isla starts, shooting her mom a pointed look and putting on a smile so anyone watching doesn’t think anything is amiss. “I love you, but you don’t need to worry about anything. Let’s not have this specific conversation right at this moment?”

Realization is quick to dawn on her mother, thankfully. She laughs and nods, much to Isla’s relief. “Got it.”

The rest of the party goes on easily, with Isla and Kie sitting with their parents during the dinner. Before it was served, though, their dad had made a beautiful speech about their mom, expressed his love for Anna and their daughters, and Isla had definitely teared up during it. While Kie wrapped both of her arms around Isla’s shoulder and pulled her in, sitting next to each other, Isla had wiped her nose with a tissue and her gaze had somehow found Rafe’s, where he sat with his family. And with his sunglasses off, she saw that he was looking directly at her, and when he noted the tears in her eyes, had given her a small smile, his own gaze softening, and while Isla hugs her sister back, she also kind of wishes she had Rafe’s hand to hold, too.

That’s not possible, though. Not yet, anyway.

Later on in the night, Isla’s laughter rings out as JJ gives her a twirl on the makeshift dance floor, the band playing a cover of Check Yes Juliet, and the skirt of her dress flares around her as she does. Her friends surround them while other guests dance as well, the sun having long since set and the fairy lights that are hanging above them illuminating the area beautifully. With the sun gone and the sky darkened, it is a little cooler out, but Isla’s having too much dancing with her friends—and dancing off all of the food she happily ate during the dinner.

JJ spins her again and Isla laughs, throwing her arm around his shoulders once she’s straightened. “Okay, okay, I’m gonna get dizzy,” she says over the music, her other hand finding Kie’s and pulling her sister over, her other arm around Kie’s shoulders as the three of them dance—or jump—to the music. When she glances to her left, Isla notes Kie’s gaze lingering on JJ, her smile a little distance, and Isla leans towards her and whispers, “Maybe let him twirl you.” Kie looks at her like she’s insane and Isla has to stifle a laugh. “Or maybe not.”

God, these two idiots.

“Sarah.” Isla’s gaze snaps to Rafe making his way towards their group, standing taller than everyone else. Because of her arm around JJ, she can feel his shoulders tense at Rafe’s arrival and with one glance, Isla sees the way JJ’s jaw clenches, blue eyes trained on Rafe, who is focused on his sister. Sarah turns to look at him, John B’s arms around her, though her smile doesn’t falter as she looks at her brother. “We’re heading out. Are you coming with us or staying with John B?”

“No, no, I’m coming,” Sarah tells him.

Rafe dips his chin in a nod as Sarah turns to give John B a kiss and, right then, though Rafe doesn’t fully face her to his right, his eyes still meet Isla’s. Everyone around them dances, other than her friends, really, but Isla feels her stomach flutter, the heat of her surroundings nothing compared to what ignites when Rafe just looks at her. It’s dangerous, given that they’re around all of her friends, but her heart hasn’t gotten the memo.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Sarah says to the rest of them with a smile before nodding her chin at Rafe. “Let’s go.”

Rafe’s gaze darts away from Isla, and she misses the weight of it as the brother and sister make their way out of the crowd, Rafe easily parting the people around them and Sarah following in his wake. As the band changes songs and Isla sees Rafe disappear from view, JJ huffs from next to her. “Can’t stand that guy.”

Isla blinks before her head turns to him. Ignoring the tightness in her stomach—this time more painful than anything else—she forces out a laugh. “He didn’t even do anything. This time, at least,” she hastily adds, feeling a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Doesn’t matter,” JJ shrugs, running his fingers through his hair while his arm drops from around Isla’s shoulders. “He’s the fucking king of the Kooks. Asshole by default.”

“I thought Ward was the king of the Kooks?” Cleo muses with an arched eyebrow. “Since Sarah was the Kook princess?”

“Yeah, that’d make Rafe prince of the Kooks, right?” Pope pipes in, and the whole conversation seems so surreal that Isla isn’t sure if she wants to laugh or spiral a little, knowing they’re all talking about Rafe.

JJ, though, is a little fed up. “Shut up, y’all know what I meant,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “He’s an asshole. Always has been, let’s leave it at that.”

Isla doesn’t want to leave it at that, but she bites her tongue—literally, feeling the sting as she traps it between her teeth. There’s a tightness in her chest, hearing Rafe being talked about like this. The change is sudden and new and something Isla is readily becoming familiar with—this change of completely disliking when one of her best friends openly calls Rafe an asshole. Especially when she has seen a side of him none of them have—a side she has a very strong feeling is the real him.

It’s been a while since there has been any physical altercation between Pogues and Kooks—one that has involved Rafe, anyway. John B and Topper often get into it, since Topper still can’t seem to accept that Sarah left him and hates to see her with John B, but Rafe has kept his distance from these fights. Since even before he and Isla got together.

Come to think of it, it’s been since Sarah’s birthday—the night that he had told Isla changed his feelings for her. Like he was keeping himself out of trouble with her friends in respect to her, and the notion is sweet and lovely, but not one she can disclose to her friends. She so badly wants to defend him, to tell JJ he’s being ridiculous and unfair since Rafe hasn’t done shit, but that would so obviously raise suspicions. Her friends would think she’s insane for defending him.

So Isla stays quiet—and hates every bit of it.

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 6 days ago

Text

Marriage Problems Chapter 3

Summary: They’ve been married for 19 years, their 20th anniversary coming up soon. Older, busier, and stuck on the repeat of their daily lives, Y/N and Bucky are struggling. Their marriage is good, but feeling rocky the last few years as they’ve settled into this stage of their lives. Can they get their spark back? Or is it better to do the unthinkable, and move on without each other?

Warnings: language, forced kiss, eventual smut

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Bucky was putting his lunch in his lunch box when a rumble of footsteps came thundering down the stairs and he looked up as Y/N burst into the kitchen looking frazzled. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” She asked him incredulously. “Where are the kids?”

“On the bus,” he answered nonchalantly.

“What?” she sputtered. “H-how…what do you–”

“They got themselves ready, lunches packed, homework done, and I made sure they were out of the house on time,” he said, smirking at her. He grabbed a plate of food next to him and slid it toward her on the island, accompanying it with a mug of her favorite drink. “I wanted to let you sleep. Now sit down and relax.”

Y/N stared at him, the surprise evident in her expression. She glanced at the plate of food then slowly walked over to the island, pulling out the stool chair and sitting down. She grabbed the toast and took a bite. “Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” Bucky smiled. He rounded the island and stood next to her, his fingers pulling her chin to make her look up at him. “We need to talk about what happened last night,” he said, and her eyes fluttered in sadness. “But, not right now. I’m about to leave for work, but I want you to take today to do nothing.”

“Nothing?” Y/N frowned.

“Absolutely nothing,” Bucky nodded. “Don’t you dare cook or clean, just rot on the couch and get caught up on your shows. I’ve already got dinner set up for delivery later. And we’ll have a good, long conversation about everything over ice cream.”

Y/N still looked surprised, but a small, happy smile crept up on her lips. “Sherbet ice cream?”

Bucky huffed a laugh. “Whatever my pretty mama wants,” he said.

***

That night after the kids went to bed they sat on the couch downstairs, a gallon of rainbow sherbet ice cream between them that they took bites from as they talked about everything. Bucky felt like they had come to a good understanding with each other, and they agreed to actively work towards reigniting their marriage.

“Well, I have a work party next weekend that you can come to,” Bucky said. “We’re celebrating that presentation going well and getting that client.” He hadn’t told her about the bonus yet, wanting to keep it a surprise.

“Oh you know I’m not a huge fan of work hangouts,” Y/N waved him away. “As much as I love Steve, it’s just a lot of awkward moments for me being the odd one out on everyone’s work inside jokes and what not.”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky smiled and nodded. “Then how about the next day? We’ll go out together, just the two of us.”

Y/N smiled. “That would be nice.”

“It’s a date,” Bucky smiled back.

***

That next Friday he found himself in a bar downtown. He felt too old to be there, just keeping a watchful eye on the younger employees as he nursed his one and only beer for the night. He and Steve took the time to catch up with each other, since they were both married, family men who didn’t get to hang out as often as they used to or would have liked. Steve stood from the small table they were at to get himself another drink. Bucky finished his beer, setting the bottle aside when someone else sat in front of him.

“Hey boss,” Natasha greeted him with a flirtatious smile.

Bucky inwardly groaned, but politely smiled. “Nat,” he greeted her. “Hope you’re having fun with the rest of the team.” He had to tread carefully with her. Natasha was young, beautiful, and had made it clear a while ago that her conversations with him were her attempt at flirty banter, sliding in sexual innuendos and compliments towards him. He’d tried ignoring it, not playing into it with her at all, but she was nothing if not persistent and ambitious. That was what made her a great part of the team. He just wished she would take the hint.

“You look ridiculously hot, as usual,” Natasha said, maneuvering herself to sit closer to him, leaning forward on the table to show off her cleavage.

“Oh, um, thank you,” Bucky said, trying to lean away from her. “You look nice.”

“Just nice?” Natasha laughed teasingly. “Looks like I’ll need to up my game next time.”

Bucky’s lips tightened as he tried to subtly look for Steve to save him. “Well, I don’t want you to waste your time with me—”

She reached a hand out and slid her fingers across the back of his hand. “Oh there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right here, sir,” she purred.

Bucky pulled his hand away and frowned. “Nat, I’m not sure how else to say this without it sounding mean, so I’m just going to say it. I’m married. Happily married–”

“No you’re not,” Natasha smirked. “You’re having marriage problems.” She leaned forward again so she was close to his ear, the alcohol on her breath making him scowl. “I can help you feel better.”

Bucky pushed away from her. “Where did you hear I was having marriage problems?” he asked angrily.

“I could just tell,” Natasha shrugged. “And Peter likes to gossip.”

Bucky rolled his eyes then closed them as he rubbed his face, and she took the opportunity to corner him against the wall, her hand holding the back of his neck and pulling him forward, kissing him right on the mouth. Bucky froze in shock for just a moment before he pushed her away and stood. “What the fuck was that?” he yelled.

“Hey, woah, what’s going on?” Steve asked, finally coming back over to the table with a new beer in his hand.

“She just fucking kissed me!” Bucky replied, wiping his mouth.

“Natasha,” Steve groaned, looking at her with deep disappointment.

“What?” she pouted. “I’m drunk.”

Bucky shook his head incredulously as Steve sighed. “Okay, it’s time for you to go home,” he said, pulling her up by the arm. “I’m calling you an Uber. And we’ll be having a discussion with HR on Monday.”

“What? No! I’m not ready to leave!” Natasha whined, pulling against his hold as he directed her toward the front door. Bucky stood there in shock until Steve came back a few minutes later.

“She’s gone,” Steve said. “I’m sorry, Buck. I knew she was flirtatious with you, I just didn’t think she’d do something like that, even while drunk.”

“Y/N,” Bucky whispered, his eyes wide as he looked at Steve. “I have to tell her, Steve.” Steve’s eyes widened with him.

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