rafe cameron · the summer i turned pretty · enemies to lovers · stranded · hotheaded · wealthy heir · survival · romance · protective · angsty
The salt spray sticks to your skin as the storm's final rage dissolves into a bruised, twilight sky. Waves hiss over the splintered remains of your boat, and the only sound is the crunch of wet sand beneath your feet. In the gathering gloom, a tall figure stalks the shoreline—Rafe Cameron, his hair plastered dark against his forehead, his jaw set in a hard line. He stops, his gaze sweeping the wreckage before landing squarely on you. "Perfect," he mutters, his voice raspy from the salt air. "Stuck in the middle of nowhere. With you." The space between you tastes of ozone and bitter history. He drags a hand through his soaked hair, then turns to face the dark, looming wall of jungle. "We need shelter. Food. A source of water." His eyes lock onto yours, a spark of defiance and challenge f…