Drew Starkey Imagines

Found

It had been almost a year since you started dating Rafe Cameron — and while the early days were marked with hesitation and tension, what stood out more than anything else was his transformation. Not overnight, not dramatic — but real. You had seen the shadows of his past, and you didn't pretend they weren't there. You had heard the stories and seen the damage, but you also saw him trying — quietly, earnestly, day by day — to become someone new.

You never once thought it would be easy, loving someone like Rafe, but it was real. And real love was messy, beautiful, and worth it.

You had thought many times about inviting him to church. You knew in your heart that he needed it — not in a "fix him" way, but because you believed everyone deserved peace and grace, even Rafe Cameron. Especially Rafe Cameron.

But you'd held back.

He was trying so hard already, and you didn't want to feel like you were pushing him or demanding change. You didn't want him to think you saw him as a project. So instead, you prayed. You prayed and waited.

Until that one summer Saturday.

⸻

You were lying on your bed at home, the afternoon sun streaming through the window, when your phone lit up with Rafe's name. You smiled, already feeling your heartbeat quicken a little as you answered.

"Hey," his voice came through the phone, soft and casual. "Wanna come hang out for the day? Thought we could tan, swim a bit, just chill. Could use some sunshine... and you."

Your heart fluttered at his last words, and a smile pulled at your lips. "I'll be there in 20."

Twenty-five minutes later, you stepped through the back gate of Tannyhill. Rafe was already shirtless, stretched out on a lounge chair with sunglasses perched on his face and his golden tan gleaming in the sunlight.

When he caught sight of you in your bikini, he took his shades off slowly, eyes scanning you from head to toe.

"Damn," he said under his breath. "You... are absolutely stunning."

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn't hide the blush that crept up your neck. "You're not so bad yourself, Cameron."

He grinned and patted the chair next to him. "Come lay with me."

You dropped your bag and settled in beside him, the sun warm on your skin and the faint scent of chlorine in the air. After a while of laying there in comfortable silence, he looked over at you.

"We gotta settle something," he said, lifting his sunglasses. "Who's tanner?"

You turned your arm over, comparing it to his. "Okay, not gonna lie... you got me beat."

"Told you," he said smugly, laying back. "But you still look better."

The compliment was effortless, but sincere. That was the thing with Rafe lately — he had softened, grown quieter. His words were still sharp when they needed to be, but they were more often wrapped in warmth these days. You'd seen him shift, become slower to anger, more willing to listen. And now, as you lay in the sun beside him, the urge to invite him — finally — stirred again.

You turned your face toward his. "Hey... can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

You hesitated. "Would you... want to come to church with me tomorrow?"

He didn't respond immediately. The silence stretched, not uncomfortable, but thoughtful. You let it linger, knowing better than to push. Finally, he sat up a little, propping himself on one arm.