Snow On The Beach // R.C.

1.16

Much to my surprise, Rafe is standing at the passenger side of his truck, holding the door open. "Is that for me?" I ask as I approach, the midday sun warm on my skin.

"Shut the hell up, and get in."

"So chivalrous," I laugh, poking him in the cheek when I get in. Looking down into my lap when he closes the door, I try to hide my blush. He was smiling at me.

Sliding into the driver's seat, Rafe pushes a button and starts the truck. He turns on the radio, "Everybody Wants to Rule The World" by Tears for Fears coming on, before placing his hand on my seat and looking over his shoulder to back out of the driveway. Staring at the red fabric of the dress I'm wearing, I trace the white polka dots as I try to ignore how quickly my heart is beating.

"Where are we going?" I dare to ask after we've been driving for a couple minutes.

Rafe glances at me then back to the road. He drives with his left wrist balanced on the leather wheel. "I told you, Paup. You won the lottery."

Everything clicks into place, and I damn myself to hell for being so stupid. "Turn this truck around," I demand. "You are not about to Pretty Woman me."

"Damn," he smirks, tapping his fingers along to the beat of the song. "And I was so excited about recreating the piano scene later." When I say nothing, just stare, horrified, at him, he laughs. "Relax, Paup. We're going to have fun."

"Rafe, no," I say, laughter bubbling up my throat at the face he makes, pretending like he can't hear me. "You can't buy me a whole new wardrobe. I can get a job, and— Hey! Turn that down— Rafe! I'm going to kill you!"

As I was talking, he kept slowly turning up the music. Then he rolled the windows down, warm wind lifting my hair off my shoulders.

He turns to me and says, "If you're plotting to murder me, you can do it in the clothes I'm about to buy you. Now sing along— I can't stand this indecision / Married with a lack of vision..."

"No! I— Rafe!" My smile takes over at the creases by his eyes and how off key his singing is. I let out a loud scream before— "Say that you'll never, never, never, never need it / One headline, why believe it?"

Together, we both scream out of our windows: "Everybody wants to rule the world!"

Driving through the city, we sing song after song. At one point, I lay my head on my arm and watch the OBX pass us by. I close my eyes, enjoying how the sun shines through my eyelids, turning the darkness to a ruby red. When I feel the truck slowing, I sit up and look around, skin growing hot when I find Rafe looking at me.

"Uh," he coughs, shifting the gear, "we're here."

I gulp. He unbuckles his seatbelt, but I don't. "I really can't accept this."

"You can, and you will. It doesn't matter whether you've earned it or not. You have nothing, and you need help. So you're going to let me help you. You're..." He trails off, eyebrows cinching, jaw flexing. I'm not sure he knows what he wants to say, but then he blurts: "You're going to let someone take care of you for once."

The hairs on my arms stand to attention. Damn him for knowing exactly what to say to get me to cave. Yet I still try to fight against what's already changing in my mind. He's right in saying I don't have anything, but I'm sure Sarah will keep lending me her clothes. And I definitely don't need anyone to take care of me. Especially not Rafe Cameron. I've gone nearly 18 years without it. But damn do I want it. I think. I've never really thought about the idea of being looked after, because it never seemed possible.

I point a stern finger at him. "Just this once."

"Yes, ma'am."

Opening my door, I undo my seatbelt and hop out, the fabric of my dress falling mid-calf. "I'm going to make your pockets hurt."