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cakesunflower · 3 days ago

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lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 19

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.

A/N: happy reading! comments & thoughts are always appreciated! <3

The morning is quiet as Rafe ventures out onto the balcony, the early chill making goosebumps rise on his skin as she settles down on the couch. The mug of coffee is warm in his hand as he sips, head turned towards the view overlooking the backyard and pool area. The sun is slowly rising as Rafe checks his emails on his phone, responding to anything urgent while saving the others for later. He’s wide awake, having gotten in morning work out and shower in, and has some time to kill before he needs to get ready for work.

He pauses for a moment after finishing checking his emails, a faint smile tugging at his mouth as he goes into his photo album and proceeds to change the lockscreen of his phone. He easily finds one of his favorite photos of Isla; one he took during one of their secret outings as they were walking, her hair tied back and lips a deep maroon, pulled back in a smile that showed off her dimples and made her eyes squint, chin lifted as she grinned at him while tugging on the strap of her bag.

She looks beautiful, adorable, and happy, not a care in the world. Rafe’s chest tightens as he stares at the photo of her—of his girlfriend—before setting it as the lockscreen picture of his phone. Now that their relationship is no longer a secret, he can do it like he had wanted to the second he took that picture. He loves her smile, can’t get enough of it. He’s a little obsessed, but with a girl like her, how can he not be?

“Hey. Good morning.” He looks up, surprised as he hadn’t heard footsteps approaching the sliding doors, and Rafe sits back when Sarah appears, hair slightly disheveled and an oversized sweatshirt, probably John B’s, drowning her frame.

“Hey.” His jaw clenches. He sees Isla’s teary eyed face in his mind, and though he knows Isla said that Sarah had come to her defense, it’s not so easy to forget how broken Isla looked yesterday. “Didn’t know you came home last night.” She spends most of her time at John B’s, and since she’s eighteen now, their dad lets her have her freedom.

Sarah clears her throat, stepping out and slowly moving to the chair opposite of him. “Yeah, everyone was asleep by the time I got in,” she says, sitting down with her hands sliding down the tops of her thighs to rest on her knees. Their gazes meet and Sarah’s shoulders slump slightly. “Isla told you what happened yesterday?” she asks carefully.

Rafe puts his mug down on the table with a slow inhale, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. “Yeah,” he answers evenly, gaze locking with his sister’s. “She was crying, Sarah.”

He sees her face fall, the regret evident in her brown eyes. Rafe is angry at how her friends found out, pissed that Topper interfered and fucked things up for Isla. He knew she was already so stressed, so anxious about telling her friends about their relationship, and had been waiting for the right time and right way to tell them. But Topper ripped that chance away from her, and she was more or less ambushed by the others. He hates that he wasn’t there for her; Rafe knows, as Isla said, it could have possibly made things worse. It could have had her friends on high alert and refusing to let their guards down if he was present. But at least he could have been there for her when she was being attacked by some of the people she loves the most.

Rafe could tell, just by the look in her eyes, how hurt she was, how upset. Her friends not hearing her out had been a blow. Honestly, Rafe has his friends, but after seeing Isla’s reaction yesterday—and what he knows of the Pogues—he knows that he’s never had the kind of friends that she has in them. It’s always been obvious how tight knit that group is and he can only ever admit it to himself, but Rafe has found himself, at times, being jealous of what they have. He wishes he had those kind of close friends, that kind of loyalty. For all of the shit he’s given the Pogues over the years, their closeness is always something he has admired.

So, to know that he’s the reason why, for Isla, it has gotten rocky—it physically pains him. He hated to see her cry; he’s angry that her friends reacted that way, even if it was expected. He’s desperate for them to be okay with their relationship; not because he wants their approval on his own, but because he knows Isla wants it, and he wants whatever she wants.

A part of him wonders if, if it came down to it, she would leave him to save her friendships. Truthfully, Rafe doesn’t think so—he doesn’t ever want to doubt her. But if she loses her friends because of him, because of his history with the Pogues, especially the guys, how would Rafe be able to live with himself?

“Everyone’s just. . . Shocked, you know?” Sarah says, breaking Rafe out of his thoughts. He blinks and refocuses his gaze on Sarah, who is playing with the blue threaded bracelet on her wrist. Matching to Isla’s yellow. He knows Kiara and Cleo have matching ones, too. “No one saw it coming and—how did it even happen, Rafe?” She shakes her head and Rafe’s throat locks when he realizes his sister looks awed, if anything. “How did. . . When did you start liking her?”

Rafe clenches his jaw, looking out beyond the railing, squinting slightly against the morning sun. His pulse quickens as he debates on his words to Sarah—words he hasn’t confessed to Isla. Not yet, anyway. “I think I always kind of liked her,” he murmurs, absently wringing his fingers together as he feels Sarah’s gaze burn his cheek. “I kept that to myself because I didn’t exactly get along with your friends. But then I’d see her smile and it just. . . Knocks me on my ass every time.” Rafe lets out a quiet, resigned chuckle. It’s the truth, though. Isla is gorgeous in ways that she could bring a king to his knees; her smile, though, is the first thing he noticed about her. Full lips pulled back to show the dimples that frame her mouth, showing off the apples of her cheeks and straight teeth, and the way her eyes squint a bit when she grins big. It’s a breathtaking sight—and one of Rafe’s favorites.

He focuses his gaze on his mug of half drunk coffee. “I knew she was too good for me, too kind. Hell, she still is. But then I saw her at your birthday party a few months ago and something shifted. I saw her hanging out with Wheezie and that was it for me.” Rafe looks at Sarah, who is gaping at him. The corner of his mouth tugs up as he shrugs. “She had me way before she even knew it.”

Sarah stares at him for a few long seconds, no doubt processing his words as she blinks slowly, lips parting. “I—” She stops, shaking her head as a disbelieving breath escapes her. “Wow. I had no idea it was like that for you,” Sarah says quietly, almost sheepishly. Like she’s embarrassed for doubting. Rafe can’t exactly blame her, but it still feels good to prove her otherwise. “Everyone kind of just assumed. . .”

She trails off with a shrug, and Rafe narrows his eyes. “Assumed what?”

Sarah twists her lips to the side, obviously hesitant, and Rafe clenches his jaw as he waits impatiently. “They assumed you were just using her, I guess?” She cringes when she says that, and Rafe knows it’s because his expression has darkened by her words.

“Using her?” he repeats tightly. If he clenched his jaw any more, he’s fairly certain his molars would crack. “What the fuck would I be—”

“It doesn’t make sense to me, either,” Sarah jumps in, in a tone that’s meant to calm him down.

But Rafe has been pissed off since yesterday, the second he saw tears in his girlfriend’s eyes. He’s fighting the instinctive urge to confront her friends, give them a piece of their mind. He doesn’t give a fuck what they say about him—but they can’t get away with how they had treated her, best friends or not. Hell, as her friends, bringing her to tears was not fucking okay, and the only reason Rafe hasn’t knocked down the door to the Chataeu is because he knows Isla won’t want him to do that.

“They’re just angry and confused,” Sarah continues, tucking a lock of dirty blonde hair behind her ear. “Rafe, you’ve—” She sighs, trying for a helpless sort of smile as Rafe sits quietly, listening with his jaw working. “You all don’t get along, right? And that—that’s an understatement.”

His muscles are tense. “I haven’t done shit—”

“I know. I noticed,” Sarah cuts him off, eyebrows rising. “I think they just have the habit of looping you in with Topper and Kelce.” She winces while Rafe scoffs, leaning back with his arms crossed. “But all of you never got along growing up, either. There’s a lot of history there that can’t be forgotten so easily, you know? Y’all have thrown way too many punches at each other to pretend it never happened. And, trust me, Isla pointed out that they’re not innocent in that, either.”

Despite himself, he feels the corner of his mouth lift at the mention of his girl defending him. Sarah notices. “Besides, you weren’t too thrilled when John B and I started dating, but you. . . Tolerate him now, right?” she asks, her voice taking a hopeful lilt. Rafe presses his tongue to the back of his teeth and dips his chin slightly in a single nod. “It’ll just take some time for them to come around to this. It’s a shock, right? No one saw it coming.”

“They need to apologize to her,” he says tightly. Rafe doesn’t care if they accept him or not—as long as they’re respectful of his relationship with Isla, and accept that she’s happy with him. “Making her cry is not fucking okay, Sarah.”

His sister nods. “No, I agree,” she says before silence descends, and when Rafe glances at her a second later, he catches her watching him with a look on her face he can’t quite describe. Confused? Thoughtful? He can’t quite make sense of it.

“What?” he asks, sounding more put-out than snappy.

Sarah’s expression softens, her lips pressing together in a knowing smile as she tilts her head slightly. “You really like her, huh?” she asks, her smile widening slightly. “You’re so protective of her.”

“She’s my girl,” Rafe says unabashedly, proudly. “The last thing I want is for anyone or anything to hurt her.”

“Good,” Sarah says with a nod of approval, getting to her feet. Her smile softens, then, more gentle as she looks down at him. “I’m glad she’s got you in her corner. As surprising as this relationship is, I think you guys are good for each other.”

Rafe’s head snaps towards his sister, unable to keep the surprise off his face. When Isla had told him yesterday that Sarah had come to her defense, Rafe had been relieved and glad, for sure. His relationship with Sarah had never not been good; it had just gotten rocky when she first started dating John B and hanging out with his group, simply because of Rafe’s own history with them. But what he had told Isla was true—he sees how good John B is to Sarah, and how happy she is with him. Whatever Rafe’s issues were with them, he can acknowledge the truth when he’s faced with it.

He had hoped the same could have been said for Isla’s friends.

But actually hearing Sarah say that she thinks he and Isla are good together, basically giving her approval. . . It feels better than Rafe would have thought. He’s glad to know that Sarah is on board with this, no matter how surprising.

When she turns to leave, Rafe watches her back for a second before he blurts, “You and John B are good together, too.” Sarah stills and then glances at him over her shoulder, her eyes slightly widened in surprise. Rafe tries not to shift uncomfortably where he sits; truthfully, he’s only ever been truly vulnerable with Isla, but he wants to get better at it with others. For Isla and for himself; starting with Sarah. He pushes past his awkwardness, his hesitance. “I mean it. I see how happy you are with him. I’m sorry I ever gave you shit for it.”

A few beats of silence pass, Sarah no doubt processing his words, before a breath escapes her upturned lips. “See?” she hums, smiling. “She is good for you.”

*****

The blades of the fan whirr on the ceiling of Isla’s bedroom, and she half hopes the rhythmic spinning will lull her back to sleep. If she strains her ears, she can hear her parents downstairs in the kitchen, but she can’t quite hear her sister, and Isla doesn’t want to. She has no doubt that an argument is going to break out between her and Kie the second they see each other, and Isla doesn’t have the energy to deal with this. She doesn’t want to argue with Kie, and Isla knows that she might just go off on Kie if her sister says anything against Rafe. Which she definitely will.

But, God, Isla just doesn’t want to face Kie, period. Her sister didn’t stick by her, didn’t come to her defense at all. Kie, of all people, was someone Isla thought she could rely on. No matter Kie’s issues with Rafe, Isla had genuinely thought—hoped—that her sister would be on her side when everyone else came crashing down on her. Isla can’t entirely comprehend the pain that flares every time she thinks of Kie not siding with her—which is a lot, since that confrontation at the Chateau. Kie just let the others attack her—let JJ attack her. That isn’t lost on Isla, and she doubts she’ll be forgetting it any time soon.

Her phone beeps, pulling her out of her thoughts, and Isla reaches for it, disconnecting it from the charger and looking at the screen. She smiles at the sight of Rafe’s name.

From: Rafe🤍

Morning, baby. Hope you have a good day at work. Would it be totally fucked up if I visited you at work for lunch?

A breathy chuckle escapes Isla, heart fluttering as she responds.

To: Rafe🤍

hiiiii. it’d be fucked up if you DIDN’T visit me

She doesn’t care that Kie’s working today, too. Doesn’t care that it might just be the shift from hell, working with her sister for a few hours after yesterday’s shitshow. Isla’s not going to let that stop her from seeing her boyfriend whenever she wants.

From: Rafe🤍

Yes, ma’am. I’ll see you around lunch time.

To: Rafe🤍

okay, have a good dayyyy

She lets out a sigh, unable to stop herself from smiling. Texting him, unsurprisingly, lifts Isla’s spirits enough to get her to kick her comforter off and get up from bed. After quickly making her bed, she heads to the bathroom and freshens up, wanting some breakfast before she gets ready for work. Which means venturing down to the kitchen.

As Isla exits her room and heads down the stairs, she silently prays her sister isn’t around, but those prayers were in vain when she sees Kiara in the kitchen with their parents. Anna and Mike are behind the counter, cooking breakfast, and Kie is sitting on the other side on the stool, her back to Isla as she eats. Isla tenses, freezing where she stands in the threshold of the kitchen. She has half a mind to turn and go back up to her room when her dad spots her.

“Hey, honey. Come eat. We made pancakes,” he tells her with an easy going grin, waving the spatula to the counter where the stack of pancakes rests.

From where she stands, Isla sees Kie’s shoulders tense as she sits up and Isla’s throat works as she slowly, reluctantly, wanders further into the kitchen. She warily eyes Kie’s back, approaching the counter and sitting on the stool at the end, keeping some distance as she refuses to look at her sister.

The tension in the room intensifies as Isla places two pancakes on her plate, pouring maple syrup over them before she begins eating as her parents talk amongst themselves by the stove. Isla doesn’t look at Kie as she eats, the clinking of their utensils against the plates ringing with the tension that radiates between them.

Clearing her throat, Isla asks, “Mom, can I get some coffee?”

Anna nods before jerking her chin at Kie. “Kiara, pass the pot to Isla,” she says before turning back to talk to Mike.

The coffee pot is sitting right by Kie’s plate, and when Isla’s gaze slides over, she sees Kie continuing to eat breakfast while scrolling on her phone as if she didn’t hear their mom. Isla stares at Kie for a beat, hoping that her gaze will burn her sister’s cheek, but Kie keeps ignoring her and Isla’s jaw clenches. It’s easier to be angry than hurt as she gets off the stool and storms around Kie .

“Unbelievable,” Isla mutters as she snatches the pot.

As she walks back to her seat, she hears Kie scoff. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Excuse me?” Isla demands, standing by her stool and putting down the pot, arms crossing as she stares Kie down. She’s vaguely aware of their parents’ conversation ceasing to look over at them. “If you have something to say, Kie, then say it.”

“Really?” Kie asks, spinning in the stool until she’s facing Isla. She narrows her eyes challengingly, head tilting. “No, thanks. I have nothing to say to you.”

“Girls—” Their dad tries to cut in, but Isla speaks over to him.

“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” she says to Kie, shrugging her shoulders. “Since you had no problem letting the others talk to me that way and you didn’t say shit to them.”

Kie’s lips purse, nostrils flaring before she lifts her chin. “They were only telling you what you needed to hear,” she says. Then she lets out a short, humorless laugh and adds, “They were being honest with you—something you weren’t.”

Isla’s chest tightens, teeth pressing together to keep her lips from trembling. “I was going to tell you guys, but Topper beat me to—”

“You think this is about whether or not you were gonna tell us?” Kie asks, eyebrows pulling together as she gets to her feet. “It didn’t matter when you told us, or if—” Her glare sharpens and Isla damn near feels the sting of it. “This is about the fact that you’re dating Rafe Cameron.”

Anna lets out a breath. “Kiara—”

“Of all the freaking guys in Kildare,” Kie continues, staring at Isla in disbelief and contempt, “you chose him? Are you seriously that desperate? It’s pathetic—”

“Hey!” Anna exclaims, walking around the kitchen island to stand between the girls, her expression one of disapproval as she stares at Kiara. “That is not okay, young lady.”

But Isla—the air has stilled in her lungs at her sister’s words. Desperate. Pathetic. The hurt pangs through Isla’s chest and she has to stop herself from physically taking a step back. That’s what Kie thinks?

She thinks Isla is desperate? Isla’s throat locks up, but she swallows it down as Kie responds to their mom, “She’s dating the biggest asshole in Kildare, Mom! She—”

“I don’t care—you do not talk to each other like that,” Anna says with a shake of her head.

“What the hell is going on?” Mike asks, staring between the three of them in bewilderment. Isla presses her teeth together, knowing that her mom had kept her word and didn’t tell even her dad about her relationship with Rafe.

Isla tries to ignore the rapid beating of her heart, expression going flat to keep the hurt out of her face, her voice. “Rafe and I are dating. Kie and the others disapprove,” she tells her dad flatly. She sees the flash of surprise on her dad’ face before looking back at Kie. “And I don’t care.”

Kie scoffs, eyes flashing as she shakes her head and cuts their gazes. “Yeah, that much is obvious,” she says.

Isla knows she’s getting nowhere with this. There’s no reasoning with Kie when she gets like this, stubborn as an ox and not willing to hear anything else. The tension in the kitchen is heavy, suffocating, and Isla’s appetite disappears in the wake of this useless, aching conversation.

“I’m gonna get ready for work,” she says to no one in particular, turning around.

“You haven’t had your breakfast yet, Isla,” her dad says.

“I’m not hungry,” Isla responds before going up the stairs.

She gets to her room, shuts the door, and cries. Out of anger or sadness, she’s not sure.

Maybe both.

*****

Isla’s shift at work goes by slowly and tortuously. After what happened in the kitchen, Anna gave Isla and Kie sections of the restaurant far away from each other’s, which might be in vain given the restaurant isn’t that big. But Kie is given the outdoor area while Isla’s section is closer to the front of the restaurant. She and her sister kept their distance, doing their job and doing an even better job of ignoring each other. Isla knows their dad is a little frustrated with them, but Anna keeps him from interfering, which Isla is grateful for. The last thing they need is for this situation to get uglier.

Throughout her shift, Isla has done her damndest not to think of Kie’s words from this morning. Desperate. Pathetic. God, Isla knows it’s not true. She knows that Kie’s angry and upset and feels betrayed by Isla’s relationship, but Isla hates that that’s how her sister views her. By Kie’s own standards, if Isla could have dated anyone in Kildare, then there’s a reason why Isla chose Rafe, and she wishes that Kie and the others could fucking understand that.

There’s been an ache in Isla’s chest since yesterday, one she can’t get rid of. A deep, aching hole that isn’t going away, even after she talked to Rafe yesterday. She knows he’s trying to help—that he wants to help—but she’s not sure how he can. Maybe if he talked to her friends, sure. But if they haven’t listened to her, why would they listen to him? And Isla doesn’t want him to feel useless, like he can’t. The last thing she wants is for him to feel helpless in helping her. It’s not his fault and she doesn’t want him thinking otherwise.

As if conjuring him from her thoughts, Isla glances towards the door as soon as it opens, and despite the heaviness in her chest, she smiles as he enters, her first real one since this morning. Their eyes meet immediately when he takes off his sunglasses, hanging them from the neck of his shirt as he grins at her.

“Hey, baby,” he greets in that familiar way that makes her heart flutter.

“Hi, honey,” she returns, laughing when his grin widens as she runs a customer’s credit card through the reader. “Give me a sec.”

Rafe nods, standing on the opposite side of the counter towards the end. “Take your time,” he says.

Isla quickly rings the customer up, grabbing the two copies of the receipt and clipping them to the credit card before walking around and heading to their table. “Thanks, y’all,” she smiles at the familiar faces as she places the card and receipts on the table. She takes a quick glance around at her section, noting that no one needs immediate attending to, and heads back around the counter and moves to the end towards Rafe. “What can I get for you, Mr. Cameron?” she asks with a grin, bracing her hands on the counter as she flicks her eyebrows up at him.

He scoffs out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement. “Uh—” He hesitates, drumming his fingers on the counter top.

“Don’t say nothing,” Isla warns him, pointing a finger. “It’s lunch time. Eat lunch.”

Rafe chuckles and, gosh, is he blushing? Isla falls for him a little more just then. “BLT and a Coke? Please?”

“Coming right up. You want a table?” she asks, nodding towards one of the empty tables in her section. But there’s also plenty of space at the end of the counter, and he wouldn’t be anyone’s way when Isla or another employee needs to move past. “Or you wanna sit here?” she adds, jerking her chin towards the spot.

Rafe follows her gaze before arching an eyebrow at her. “Can I?”

“Mhm,” Isla hums with a smile, dragging the stool out from the space under the counter and placing it at the end. She grins at Rafe as she tops the vinyl top of the stool and when he sits, she smiles at him. The stool is kind of high, and he’s already tall as hell, so they’re at eye level when they sit. “Let me put your order in.”

She finds her dad in the back and she leans into the kitchen, asking, “Hey, Dad. Can I get a BLT for Rafe, please?”

“He’s here?” he asks with an arched brow, even as he’s already reaching for the ingredients to make the sandwich. “Is that a good idea with Kie out there, too?”

Isla tenses slightly as she rolls her eyes, though she takes a step further into the kitchen. “I don’t care what she thinks.”

Her dad huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I got that this morning. One BLT coming right up.”

Isla comes back out to the front, opening the fridge and grabbing a can of Coke. “You came at a good time,” she says to Rafe, putting the can and a straw in front of him. “You just missed the lunch rush.”

“I did that on purpose,” he says with a small grin, folding his arms on the counter and tilting his chin at her. His smile turns knowing. “Didn’t wanna distract you when it was busy.”

Isla laughs, feeling a bit lighter as her own arms fold on the counter and she leans forward. “You’re so considerate,” she muses, moving towards her.

He meets her halfway and her eyes flutter shut in response to the quick kiss they exchange, feeling any lingering tension melt away from her body at the first touch of his lips against hers. The kiss is brief but sweet and gentle, even as Isla feels the thrill of being able to kiss him publicly. The secret and sneaking around was fun on its own, but this brings a new kind of giddiness that Isla isn’t used to.

She pulls away with a quiet sigh, not quite wanting to open her eyes just yet as she feels his forehead against hers. But the hair at the back of Isla’s neck stand when she feels a prickle of awareness, like someone is watching her. And when she pulls back and opens her eyes, she glances over to see Kie glaring at them as she fills up some glasses from the soda machine on the opposite side of the restaurant. Isla’s jaw clenches at the look of contempt on Kie’s face, appearing as though she’s grossed out by the sight of Isla and Rafe as she scoffs and turns away with a shake of her head.

Isla looks away from her, catching Rafe frowning at Kie before his gaze slides back to Isla. “Did you guys talk more?” he asks, unfolding one arm enough to cover her hand with his.

Desperate. Pathetic. Kie’s earlier words make Isla’s throat lock up as she drops her gaze down to her and Rafe’s hands. His larger one covering hers, the gold family ring on his pinky gleaming under the light. “Kind of,” Isla answers in a mumble. When Rafe arches an eyebrow questioningly, Isla shakes her head with a half smile, gaze casting downwards again. “Nothing worth repeating was said.”

“Hey.” His free hand reaches towards her, fingers lightly grasping her chin to lift her head until their gazes meet. Isla sees the concern swimming in his blue eyes, making her chest tighten as she feels his thumb lightly brush across her chin. “You need me, for anything, you let me know, okay? Don’t carry this on your own. This is about both of us so just—” Rafe lets out a breath, a kind of desperation flashing across his face. “Just lean on me, okay? Please.”

Isla’s throat works when she hears the plea in his voice as it heavies his words. And while part of Isla wants to keep it to herself, to not burden Rafe with what’s been said so far, she also knows it’s not fair to him to keep him in the dark. She’s hurting, and she knows Rafe wants to know because this concerns both of them, in the grand scheme of things.

“I will,” Isla promises with a nod. “Later, though, okay?”

Rafe nods just as Isla hears her dad call out, “Isla, your BLT.”

She pulls away from Rafe, grabbing the plate of food and thanking her dad before placing it in front of Rafe. “Bon appetit. I’ll be right back,” Isla says, squeezing his shoulder as she moves past him to attend to some tables.

She brings water to one table and begins taking the orders for another, and Isla can feel someone’s gaze on her—a weight she recognizes intimately. The smile tugs on the corner of Isla’s mouth before she even looks up and when she does, she sees Rafe watching her with a small smile as he reaches for his drink. Isla’s heart flutters just because of his stare, flicking her eyebrows up playfully and making his smile widen before she focuses her attention back on the customers.

She keeps busy for the next ten minutes or so, avoiding eye contact with Kie whenever her sister comes inside because Isla doesn’t want to see the faces her sister makes whenever she looks towards Rafe. Kie may not like having him here, but every time Isla glances over and looks at him, she can’t help but smile, loving the sight of him there.

By the time Isla gets back around the counter, Rafe is finishing off his lunch. “You’re closing, right?” he asks as he wipes his mouth with a napkin.

“Yup,” Isla answers with a sigh, leaning with one hand against the counter top and the other resting on her jutted out hip. She widens her eyes at Rafe, lips pursing before she adds sarcastically, “Should be a blast.”

She meaningfully nods her head towards the outdoor eating area, and Rafe presses his lips together. “Kie’s closing, too?” he asks and Isla nods, her stomach twisting. Rafe frowns, his gaze looking her over as though he can see her inner turmoil. “You’ll be okay?”

Isla scoffs. “I’ll survive,” she says with a shrug, glancing at the time on her Apple Watch. “You gotta head back?”

“Yeah,” Rafe sighs, standing up and pulling out his wallet from the back pocket of his pants. “Can I get the bill?”

Isla makes a face, standing straight as she crosses her arms. Rafe stares at her, confused, as Isla lets out a scoff. “It’s on the house, honey.” He’s always paying for her food, buying her things; this is the least she could do.

Rafe’s expression falls flat with a dip of his chin. “No, let me—”

Isla cuts him off by stepping closer to him, their fronts pressing together. She tilts her head up at him as he arches an eyebrow down at her, mirth flickering in those blue eyes as Isla grins with a hand pressed to his chest. “You can pay right here,” she tells him, bringing her free hand up to tap her lips with a finger.

His lips purse in amusement, a subtle tilt of his strong chin as Isla wiggles her eyebrows playfully, trying to stifle her laugh. “You’re somethin’ else,” he murmurs before leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to her lips, his hand resting on her hip.

Isla smiles against his lips, stomach fluttering when he hums into the kiss. “You love it,” she mumbles in response, making him chuckle lowly.

They break the kiss all too soon. “Very true,” he says with a wink. “Text me later, yeah? If you’re not tired, we could do something.”

Isla nods, biting her smiling bottom lip as he steps away. “I will,” she says.

He leaves after saying goodbye, and Isla lets out a long breath before getting back to work. The rest of the day passes by uneventfully, serving familiar faces and then some. She and Kie manage to avoid each other for the remainder of their shift, awkward and tense but in stilted quiet. But Isla should have known that once the last of the customers leave and the doors are locked to the public, it would only be a matter of time until things came to a head once again.

Except it all started by an innocent comment from Isla’s mom. “It was nice to see Rafe,” she says to Isla as she counts the money in one of the registers, while Isla counts the other. When Isla glances up, she knows for a fact sees Kie tense up from where she’s cleaning one of the other tables. “I hope you didn’t make him pay for lunch.”

Isla snorts into a laugh, mentally counting the money as she sorts through the bills. “Of course, I didn’t. I mean, he tried to, but I told him no.”

Anna chuckles, but it’s Kie who scoffs from where she stands. “Yeah, sure, don’t let the filthy rich guy pay for his lunch. It’s how the rich stay rich, you know,” she says, throwing a reproachful look at Isla over her shoulder. “Keep giving them shit for free. It’s only a matter of time until they take advantage of you.”

Isla knows she shouldn’t engage, that Kie is only trying to provoke her. But she’s also sick of all the nasty glares Kie had been sending Rafe during the forty minutes or so he was here, as well as growing sick of the harsh words she keeps spewing without a care. “Can you stop talking like you know him?” she asks, narrowing her eyes. She’s definitely lost where she was counting but she can’t bring herself to care right now.

“I do know him,” Kie snaps as she fully turns around, features pulled tightly into a glare. “He’s the guy that used to happily get into fights with our friends, remember? He’s the one who gave Pope a black eye and knocked John B off his bike at the last Enduro and got JJ fired from that mechanic job last year—”

“JJ keyed his car, Kie, or are you forgetting that part since you like him?” Isla cuts in, jaw working. The full story is that JJ had that job at one of the mechanic’s over on Figure Eight because the pay was better than working at an auto shop on the Cut, and Rafe had brought in his car right after that last Enduro where he and John B crashed into each other. And Isla can admit, that crash had looked purposeful on Rafe’s part, but no one got hurt—miraculously—and neither of them won that race. And so when Rafe brought his car to get fixed, JJ had done that. But not before keying his car, too. It was an impulsive, idiotic decision on JJ’s part, but that’s also not new.

“And stop making it sound like that the guys aren’t innocent, either. They love to pick fights, too,” Isla says with a lift of her chin. She narrows her eyes, pulse quickening. “You’re so damn quick to judge Rafe, but you don’t know him. People can change—”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Kie scoffs with a roll of her eyes, her tone heavy with sarcasm. From her peripheral vision, Isla can see her mom has stopped working, watching the two of them with worry. “Just ’cause he stopped shitting on us for a couple of months, he’s suddenly a brand new person. Do you seriously believe that?” she demands with her arms crossing over her chest, her expression holding nothing but judgement in the purse of her lips and arch of her eyebrow.

Isla feels like she’s losing her mind. “Yes! Because I spend time with him!” she exclaims, voice raising his frustration. “And you know me, so why the hell would I want to date anyone that I didn’t think was a good person? You think I didn’t think about how you guys would take it, how y’all would feel, when you found out about us?”

Kie’s nostrils flare, not backing down with a stubborn tilt of her chin. “Because you know, deep down, exactly the kind of person he is. You were embarrassed—”

Isla’s temper flares, chest tightening. “Don’t fucking put words in my mouth, Kiara,” she snaps, noting the way her sister’s eyes widen slightly.

Anna places a hand on Isla’s arm. “Isla—”

But Isla shrugs it off, walking around the counter until she’s standing in front of it. Kie is still a good ten feet away. “I wasn’t embarrassed to tell you about him,” Isla says, practically gritting the words out through her teeth. “I was anxious because I know you guys wouldn’t want to see the truth that people can change. You’ve all built some narrative in your head that he’s some kind of villain, when I know for a fact that he’s not. I was nervous because I know it’s hard for y’all to let shit go, and you would hold the past against him when he’s proven to me that he’s not the same person he was even a year ago.”

Isla’s chest has grown tight, her breathing a little shallow. She can hear her heart thundering in her ears, drowning out the sound of her dad’s heavy footsteps coming out of the back, no doubt watching this unfold with her mom. “But I had hoped you guys would prove me wrong and would at least hear me out, but that’s the only part I was wrong about, I guess.” She shrugs, unable to fake nonchalance as she clenches her jaw. Kie’s gaze is hard and Isla isn’t sure if she’s putting on a mask or what. She’s too damn tired to even try and figure it out. “You, though,” Isla shakes her head with a hollow laugh, the corner of her mouth curved up in a sardonic smile. “You really surprised me, Kie. I thought at least my own sister would try and defend me. But you just joined the rest of them. Didn’t say a damn thing against JJ when he was going at me.”

Isla swears she sees Kie’s lower lip quiver for a brief moment before her sister says, “You’re the one who chose your relationship with Rafe over your friendship with us.”

Isla’s heart cracks, but she has her response ready on her tongue. Even as tears threaten to fill her eyes. “And you chose your hatred of him over your supposed love for me.”

The blow lands, watching as Kie flinches ever so slightly and Isla doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt for uttering those words—not when she believes them, in this moment. Kie shakes her head slowly. “You don’t get to lie to us and then victimize yourself in all of this.”

Victimize myself? Isla would laugh if she wasn’t so damn hurt. “The only reason I lied was because I didn’t want to have to make a choice,” Isla fires back, eyes narrowing as she tries to keep the hurt from leaking into her voice. “Or do you not remember JJ giving me that shitty ultimatum? Or, oh wait—” Isla feigns a look of surprise, eyes widening. “Do you not care because you made the choice to stick by the guy you like instead of your sister?” Isla scoffs, pulse racing so quickly that it threatens to make her dizzy as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Pretty hypocritical of you, Kie. And real fucking hurtful.” Her voice shakes on those last four words, fingers curling into her palms. “I know you guys felt betrayed, or whatever, but did you think for a second how awful you guys made me feel with all of that shit you said?”

Silence from Kie, and Isla’s throat locks. “I didn’t think so,” she whispers.

Kiara’s lips part, but she still doesn’t say anything, seemingly at a loss for words. But the fight somehow still remains in her brown eyes, making Isla remain tense. “Okay, girls,” Anna says from behind her in a calming voice. “Let’s just take a breath, okay?”

“No, that’s not necessary,” Isla cuts in, her hard gaze fixed on Kie. To her sister, she says, “I like Rafe, a lot. And I love you guys. But you’re not being fair, and if you guys were my friends, I shouldn’t have to beg you to explain anything. You guys weren’t the only ones who didn’t like Rafe. I was right there with you, remember? But obviously shit changed—enough for me to actually date him. Did you even think of that?” When Kie doesn’t say anything, lips pressed together and jaw working to show off that conflicted expression on her face, Isla loosens a rough breath. She blinks a few times as she turns to face her parents, who are watching them with twin expressions of worry. Isla inhales shakily. “I know I’m supposed to help close, but can I just—” She shakes her head. “I need to go.”

Her mom’s expression falls, forehead creasing with worry. Her dad places a hand on Anna’s shoulder while nodding at Isla. “Go ahead, baby. We got it.”

Isla nods in gratitude, offering them a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Anna bends to grab Isla’s purse from under the counter, handing it to her, and Isla mumbles a thank you before exiting the restaurant, not sparing a glance back at Kie. Isla’s not sure if Kie’s going to get a lecture from their parents or comfort, maybe a mix of both, but she doesn’t stick around to find out.

The second she gets in her car, she starts it but doesn’t quite pull out of the lot. Instead, she grips the steering wheel and leans forward, pressing her forehead against it. A rough breath escapes her, eyes squeezing shut as she tries to calm her racing pulse down. Whatever she said, she knows needed to be said. Her sister needs to know the hurt she and the others caused to Isla, and whether or not that’s going to change their stubborn nature, Isla doesn’t know. Deep down, Isla believes that eventually things will work out, that they may even look back and laugh at all of this, but she really fucking wishes that eventually was right now.

She inhales sharply before exhaling slowly, throat working as her grip on the wheel tightens. Isla feels the tears escape with another shuddering breath, sniffling as she sits up and wipes at her cheeks. “Pull yourself together,” she mutters, flipping down the visor and sliding open the mirror to pat and wipe at the area under her eyes to get rid of any mascara that smudged. Swallowing, Isla pulls out her phone and dials the number she already knows by heart.

It rings twice before Rafe’s deep voice answers. “Hey, baby.”

Isla sighs. “Can I come over?”

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saltwater-and-woodsmoke · 2 years ago

Text

Stupid Things (Good Outcomes) || JJ Maybank || Prologue

All things considered, Los Angeles wasn’t a bad place to end up when you’re freshly twenty three. Sure, it’s no Pelican, North Carolina, but JJ Maybank likes well enough.

Words: 1,982

Pairings: JJ Maybank x OFC (Mariella “Mari” Diaz); mentioned Eddie Diaz x Evan “Buck” Buckley.

Warnings: mentions of drowning, sparknotes version of OBX as told by JJ Maybank. Eddie gets called a tonto. Mentions of Eddie being shot

Also on ao3

All things considered, Los Angeles wasn’t a bad place to be when you’re freshly twenty three. It was no Pelican, North Carolina, but JJ Maybank never expected he’d ever actually leave the damn island. Except, you know, for the time he was stuck on an uninhabited island with his friends for six weeks or the time he’d flown to South America in a cargo plane of weed, but neither of those things were so bad when he thought about them.

The studio apartment he rented in LA was expensive, but he had his share of El Dorado and Royal Merchant gold to help pay for that, and when you spent the majority of your high school days couch surfing because your one living parent was too drunk to pay the bills and he skipped town when you were seventeen, you learned quickly to not take up too much space. He liked the vibe of Los Angeles. The surf was decent, he worked as a bartender, and he’d even made a couple friends in his time there.

The surf was decent, the weather was nicer than North Carolina, and that day, a Saturday in May, JJ found himself sitting on a beach soaking up the warm sun while he sipped the beer he’d swiped from one of his friends that had joined him while he texted the Pogues back home.

Kie was telling him all about her most recent trip to Bali with her girlfriend, Avery. John B was giving him an update on the latest house he was flipping while also giving him updates on Sarah’s pregnancy and sending the most adorable photo of his two year old goddaughter, Scout, popsicle mouth and all as she grinned. He couldn’t help but smile at the photo, saving it to make it his lockscreen later.

He was replying to Pope about his plans to fly home for a few days in June for Father’s Day, planning a barbecue at the Routledge household to celebrate Bobby Heyward who had been both his and John B’s father figure after his own dad skipped town and Big John had died when he heard it. It was a mother, yelling at a girl no more than eight years old to come closer to shore because she was getting too far out.

He watched for several moments before he realized what he was seeing. The girl was swimming like she was attempting to get closer to shore but she was struggling and getting farther out. Fuck. He knew immediately what was happening, wasting no time standing up and ripping his shirt off before tossing his sunglasses and phone on the towel he’d been sitting on.

Getting to the girl wasn’t an issue, but he could tell she was exhausted and had inhaled an unknown amount of water in her panicked state. One arm wrapped around her tightly while he swam like hell to get them both out of there. The girl was unconscious by the time his feet were back in the sand and he went into action before looking at the panicked crowd that had gathered.

“Fuck, someone call 9-1-1!” He yelled before finding the moms eyes. “What’s her name?”

“Clara”

“Okay.” He tried to smile through his own panic. He continued to provide chest compressions and rescue breaths for what felt like a lifetime. His arms ached, he could hear the sirens approaching as he kept going, telling the girl to just hang in there. Finally, he could see paramedics rushing towards them, the mother of the girl telling them that her name was Clara Logan and she was eight years old. Before the woman could kneel down and take over there was a gasp from the girl, then coughing as she started to expel the water in her lungs.

He quickly helped stabilize her neck as they moved her to her side so she wouldn’t re-aspirate on the water before he let the medics take over. As he stood there, he couldn’t help but feel ten years old again. It was a feeling that he quickly pushed down as the medics worked quickly, stabilizing her and getting her on a gurney before one of the other firefighters stopped and looked at him.

“What’s your name, sir?” He asked.

JJ froze, looking at him before clearing his throat. “Uh, JJ. JJ Maybank, sir.”

“Well, JJ.” He started, sticking his hand out for JJ to shake. “I’m Captain Nash. Your quick thinking saved that little girl's life today.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey you’re the guy from the beach today, right?”

The voice brought JJ out his thoughts. The scene from that afternoon had been replaying in his head since he’d gotten home, his thoughts dragging him back to when he’d lost his brother. He’d decided that he needed to get out of his apartment so despite that it was his night off, he had come to the bar and was sitting in a corner booth with his beer.

“Uh, yeah.” He answered. “I’m JJ.”

“Mariella Diaz.” She smiled, sliding into the other side of the booth. “The tonto at the bar ordering drinks is my brother, Eddie.”

“You’re the paramedics that showed up, right?”

“We are.” She confirmed. “Although, I have to say it would have been a completely different outcome had you not been there. The mother said she was stuck in a rip current, those usually don’t end well. She said you just jumped in without a thought and pulled her out. Most people wouldn’t have thought to do that.”

JJ was silent, kind of shocked by this woman’s boldness. She’d just sat down and started talking to him like they were old friends and he didn’t know what to say. Before he could reply, her brother showed up and gave her a disapproving look.

“Mari, what have I told you about talking to strangers.” He told her, but sat down next to her anyway. “Here’s your straight whiskey, you crazy ass woman. I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“This is JJ.” She told him. “He’s the guy that jumped in after that little girl today, so not a stranger. I was just telling him that most people wouldn’t jump in like that.”

“Well.” JJ sighed as he took a drink. “I couldn’t just watch another kid die like that.”

Both siblings were quiet, looking at him with shocked expressions as they took in that information. It was clear that Mariella wanted to ask, but was afraid to so he just gave them both a weak smile.

“Thirteen years ago, I was ten years old and my brother, Tyler, took me to the beach. The surf was rough, but our dad had been drinking again and he wanted to make sure I was out of the house so we went to the beach. I was standing on the shore while he took our one surfboard out and he was knocked off. I didn’t know anything about rip currents but when the board came back and he didn’t, it scared me. I could just barely see him struggling. He was so far out. So I ran to the nearest adult and told them, but they couldn’t get to him in time. They finally got him back to shore, and did CPR until paramedics arrived, but it was too late.” He took another drink. “He was only fifteen. He just, he was the one that always took the brunt of what my dad did when he was drunk because he didn’t want me to get hurt. After he died, my dad got worse and eventually skipped town when I was sixteen.”

“Shit” she frowned. “I’m sorry, that had to be rough. Edmundo here drives me insane but a couple years ago he was shot and the thought of him dying terrified me. I couldn’t imagine if he actually died.”

“It was hard.” JJ told her. “But it’s been thirteen years, y’know? I still think of him all the time. If he would have gotten out, what he’d be doing now. It was part of the reason I even came to California. He always said he wanted to see the west coast.”

“That’s a good thing.” Eddie told him. “Keep his memory alive.”

“I uh, I came into some money when I was almost seventeen. It was kind of a local legend, this ship that went down with 400 million in gold.” JJ half smiled, thinking of the adventure he and his friends had gone on years ago. “The Royal Merchant. My friend, his dad was obsessed with it. Well, Big John went missing when we were sixteen and John B, he became obsessed that his dad was still alive.”

“Was he?”

“Yeah.” JJ laughed. “We almost died like, four times. John B was framed for murder by his girlfriend's dad and brother. I stole my dads boat to help them off the island when that happened. But the boat capsized in a tropical storm, they were presumed dead, then they weren’t dead and ended up in the Bahamas. Sarah’s brother shot her, she died for a couple minutes, they came back to North Carolina, John B was arrested. I got hit in the head with a machete.”

“Holy shit.”

“It gets wilder. We were stranded on an island for six weeks, and survived a plane crash. There was a train heist. Sarah’s ex boyfriend burned down John B’s house while we were all inside of it. Kie’s parents shipped her off to wilderness camp because “we were bad influences on her” and I busted her out, then rode in a cargo ship full of weed to South America.”

“Wait.” Eddie stopped the younger man. “I think my husband read an article or something about this. Four teenagers from North Carolina who found El Dorado.”

“Yeah.” JJ laughed. “We went through a lot of shit in like a four month time span. Also, technically only John B and Sarah found El Dorado. They were the only two who actually saw it. We were held hostage by this crazy man trying to get rich off of it and he was going to shoot Sarah, but her dad literally sacrificed himself to save her. Threw himself off a cliff taking one of this guy’s buddies down. Big John was shot and didn’t make it back. Anyway, they split the money six ways. We didn’t actually get any of it until we were eighteen, but I have a good little nest egg to sit on.”

“How much is “little”? I’m just curious.”

“About sixty seven million a piece.” JJ told them. “Actually, it’s probably more due to interest now. I kept most of it in a savings account.”

“He sounds like Buck.” Mari laughed. “And his trust fund.”

“Who’s Buck?” JJ questioned.

“My husband.” Eddie clarified. “His grandparents started a trust fund for him when he was little that he couldn’t access until he was twenty five, but didn’t tell his parents about it, only his older sister. So by the time they got back in contact, he was twenty six and this money had been sitting collecting interest for twenty years, so he had more money than he knew what to do with, so he just….left it sit. He used part of it to put a down payment on our house and start college funds for my son and our daughter. But otherwise, he just uses what he makes.”

“I don’t know, you just remind me of him. Especially when he was younger and super impulsive.”

“Well, maybe that’s a good thing.” JJ laughed. “It sounds messed up but I wasn’t trying to be a hero today, but when she came to, god it felt good being able to say I did that.”

“Well, your impulsiveness saved a kid's life today, JJ.” Mari told him. “And you should be proud of that.”