#concealed hearts

Ange’s POV

The fire crackles to life, orange light flickering across all our faces as JJ and John B finally get it going.

JJ glances over at me, tossing another stick into the flames. “So… you’re really related to Daniel De Luca?”

I groan. “Unfortunately, yes.”

He smirks. “So you’re, like… a kook then?”

I scoff. “Please. The money’s his, not mine. My dad wanted nothing to do with it. I just pull the name out when I need it. Which you should be thanking me for Maybank, I was quite happy when no one knew.” Sarcasm drips from my voice.

I try to remain serious, my facade starting to crack at the look on jjs face but before he can fire back, Pope walks over, already stressed. “Okay, can someone tell me why I snuck out for this late-night cult meeting?”

JJ grins. “Might as well tell them, man.”

John B takes a breath, scanning all of us. “The gold from the Royal Merchant… never went down with the ship.”

“Oh my god,” Pope mutters. “Here we go again.”

“No, wait,” JJ cuts in, serious now. “Let him talk.”

John B pulls out an old letter. “It’s been here the whole time. On the island.”

Kie and I both lean forward. “You’re kidding.”

“Denmark Tanny,” John B explains, handing over the letter. “He was the only survivor. Used the gold to buy his freedom… then bought land.”

We read in silence.

“That land?” John B says. “Tannyhill Plantation.”

A beat. Then it clicks.

“The gold’s still here,” I say, stunned.

John B grins. “All we need is the original survey map.”

JJ practically tackles him in excitement. “I love this plan already.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Alright… what’s the catch?”

John B hesitates. “Sarah Cameron’s bringing the map.”

Kie stiffens immediately. “Excuse me—what?”

I blink. “Wait… Sarah?”

JJ mutters, “This is gonna be good.” I turn to him sharply. “You knew?” He winces not answering directly but that’s an answer in itself.

The air shifts instantly.

“You told her?” Kie demands.

“I left out details,” John B says quickly.

“That’s not a no,” I cut in, crossing my arms.

Tension builds fast, voices overlapping, frustration boiling. Somehow, against all logic, we still end up piling into the Twinkie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The drive is quiet. Too quiet.

We’re parked near Hawk’s Nest Tower, the engine ticking as it cools while everyone waits on John B.

JJ flicks his lighter, the soft crack cutting through the silence.

“Can you put that out?” I ask evenly.

He glances over. “It’s just—”

“JJ,” Kie cuts in from the front seat.

He pauses. “Alright, alright.”

But smoke’s already curling through the van.

Too familiar, my chest tightening before I can stop it.

The memory hits fast — the sharp sting of a cigarette pressed into skin, the smell of smoke trapped in the air, my back burning for hours after.

I cough hard, suddenly unable to pull in enough air.

The door flies open beneath my hand and I stumble out of the Twinkie, dragging in sharp breaths as the cool air hits my lungs.

“Ange?”

JJ’s right behind me now, all the attitude gone.

I wave him off slightly, trying to breathe through it.

“I didn’t know,” he says quickly. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” I manage after a second. “I know. Just… not my thing.”

He nods immediately, no questions asked.

Silence settles between us.

Then I glance up properly, noticing the bruises scattered across his face under the low light.

“You look like shit,” I mutter.

A small laugh escapes him. “Feel worse.”

Before I can think about it, I step closer and wrap my arms around him.

He freezes for half a second before pulling me in tighter.

“My dad’s got a solid right hook,” he mutters.

Something in my chest twists.

“Yeah,” I murmur. “I noticed.”

He looks at me differently after that.

Softer.

His hands brush carefully against my face like he’s still deciding if he should touch me at all.

“I didn’t tell you before,” he says, voice rough around the edges, “but… you look good tonight.”

I raise a brow. “That your best line?”

A faint smirk tugs at his mouth. “Caught me off guard.”

I laugh quietly.

Neither of us pulls away.

Our foreheads bump lightly, almost accidental, and the air shifts around us — quieter, closer.

Like something’s finally about to happen—

“Someone help!”

The scream cuts straight through it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We’re running before I can think.

By the time we reach them, Sarah’s crouched over John B, crying.

He’s not moving.

Everything inside me locks up for half a second before instinct takes over.

I drop beside him, fingers pressing against his neck. “He’s breathing,” I say quickly. “Don’t move him.”

Sarah’s words spill out between sobs, rushed and broken, but I catch enough.

Topper.

JJ’s beside me instantly, tension radiating off him. “Pope, go. Now.”

Pope takes off running.

After that, everything blurs into keeping John B conscious.

“Stay with me, okay?” Sarah whispers shakily.

Then sirens cut through the night.

Paramedics rush in, taking over fast, voices overlapping as they pull us back.

I lean away finally, adrenaline draining all at once.

And just like that, the moment is gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ride is silent.

JJ drops everyone off one by one, no music, no comments—just the low hum of the engine filling the space where his voice usually is. By the time it’s just us, the quiet feels heavier.

He doesn’t look at me. Not once.

When we finally pull up outside my house, neither of us moves.

I reach over, resting a hand gently on his arm. “He’s going to be okay,” I say softly. “You heard them.”

His jaw tightens before he nods. “Yeah.”

But he doesn’t sound convinced.

For a second, I think he’s going to say something—something real, something like before.

Instead, his hand tightens on the steering wheel. “You should go inside.”

Not harsh. Not cold. Just… closed off.

I pull my hand back. “Okay. Thanks for the ride.”

I step out, the cool night air hitting my skin. The door shuts softly behind me, and for a moment, I just stand there.

The engine’s still running behind me but I don’t turn around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

JJ’s POV:

John B finally gets out of the hospital a few days later looking rough but alive, which honestly feels like a miracle at this point.

We’re all at The Wreck talking about everything that happened — the tower, the gold, how close we came to losing it all.

I mostly keep quiet.

She’s not here again.

Kie’s been weird with me ever since that night, which means Ange definitely told her something.

John B shakes his head. “Still can’t believe Topper pushed me.”

“Yeah, well,” Pope mutters, “at least you didn’t die.”

“Barely,” Kie says.

John B laughs softly. “Doctors said I got lucky.”

“Pretty sure your luck ran out years ago,” Pope tells him.

The conversation drifts after that — the gold, the map, all the ways this could still go wrong.

Crazy how fast the gold stopped being the first thing on my mind.

John B glances around the table. “Wait… where’s Ange?”

Nobody answers right away.

Then Kie looks directly at me, I already hate where this is going.

I shrug. “How would I know?”

Kie raises a brow. “Really?”

Pope looks between us slowly. “Okay… what did I miss?”

“Nothing,” I say too fast.

John B catches onto it immediately. “Hold on. Did something happen?”

I drag a hand through my hair. “We just had a moment, alright? Then everything with you happened and things got weird.”

“So you ghosted her,” John B says.

“Can you not call it that?”

“That’s exactly what it is,” Kie mutters.

I lean back against the booth, jaw tight. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Kie’s expression softens slightly. “She figured you needed space. Thought you’d talk to her when you were ready.”

That hits harder than I expect.

Before I can answer, the bell above the door jingles.

My head turns automatically.

And there she is.

Ange.

Like nothing happened.

Kie lights up instantly. “Ange!”

Ange smiles as she walks over. “Sorry I’m late, Ari refused to nap.”

John B grins. “You missed Pope bullying me for surviving.”

“Damn,” Ange says, sliding into the booth beside Kie. “And here I thought near-death experiences made people nicer.”

Pope looks offended. “I am nice.”

“No,” everyone says at once.

She laughs softly before looking at John B properly, her expression gentler now. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” he says. “Still alive.”

“Good.”

Then her eyes land on me.

“Hey, Maybank.”

Just normal.

Like those few seconds outside the Twinkie never happened.

“Hey,” I manage.

She drops back into the conversation easily, like nothing’s changed.

And somehow everyone moves on.

Everyone except me.

Because I know that moment meant something.

I felt it.

After the fight at the outdoor cinema, the crew and I headed back to John B’s place. He wasn’t home—makes sense, he’s still on the run. As soon as we got inside, JJ disappeared into the bathroom. I figured he was trying to patch himself up.

A few minutes later, mid-conversation with Kie, a loud curse echoed down the hall. “Ow, shit.”

I sighed, already standing. “I’ll go,” I offered, making my way to the bathroom.

JJ was at the sink, fumbling with a first aid kit like it personally offended him. I leaned against the doorway. “Need a hand?” I asked, eyebrow raised.

He looked up and gave a single nod. I stepped inside, gently taking the random items he’d grabbed—none actually useful—and set them aside. Then I reached for a clean washcloth to start cleaning around his wounds.

JJ raised an eyebrow, smirk tugging at his mouth as he leaned casually on the sink.

“Want to play nurse, princess?”

I rolled my eyes, grabbing the cloth. “Careful, JJ. Keep talking like that and I might start thinking you like me or something.”

He chuckled, wincing as the laugh pulled at a cut.

“Damn, caught me,” he muttered. “Guess I’ll have to flirt quieter next time.”

I bit back a smile, gently dabbing at his split lip first, then rinsing the cloth to move on to the bruising along his neck and the scrapes on his knuckles. He watched in silence for a moment before speaking, softer this time.

“It’s late though, Ange… you need to get home?”

I glanced up briefly, then returned to what I was doing.

“I told my family there was a chance I’d be out late—or crashing at someone’s place. Probably Kie’s. They’re not expecting me back tonight.”

JJ clicked his tongue, nodding. Comfortable silence settled as I finished tending his cuts. “Alright,” I said quietly, brushing my hands off. “You should be okay now.”

I started to turn, but his hand slipped into mine—gentle, deliberate.

“Stay… please,” he said, voice lower than before.

I paused, shaking my head. “J, I really shouldn’t.”

“I’ll take you back first thing in the morning,” he cut in, eyes searching mine. “Just for the night. Kie and Pope are here too, and after what happened tonight…” He trailed off, then added softly, “It’s not safe out there. Not right now.”

I knew he was right. Not safe for any of us to split up, especially with John B still on the run and everything feeling like it could collapse at any moment.

And I wasn’t crazy—I knew there was something between us. Well… for me, there was. But it was too soon for anything real. Too messy. Trust didn’t come easy, especially with guys.

JJ seemed to sense my hesitation. He cleared his throat, leaning back slightly.

“I don’t expect anything,” he said quickly, like he could read my mind. “In case that’s what you’re thinking.”

He nodded toward his room.

“You can stay with Kie in here—this is my room anyway. I’ll crash on the couch.”

Then, after a beat, his mouth twitched into that cocky grin , “Unless you’d rather have me stay.”

Playful, casual—but definitely not casual. I giggled, hiding the small blush creeping up my cheeks.

“Alright, Maybank. I’ll—”

Before I could finish, Kie and Pope shouted goodnight from the living room, both claiming the pullout bed. Great.

I didn’t feel comfortable sleeping in John B’s bed—it just felt… off.

Before I could process anything, JJ’s voice followed low and teasing:

“Well, I guess you’re stuck with me.”

I met his grin with one of my own, letting my fingers linger on his arm.

“I never said I didn’t want it to be you.”

I turned to leave him to finish getting ready, quietly grabbing a drink from the fridge without waking anyone. His soft chuckle trailed after me.

Boy, what am I getting myself into?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, I was ready to head home, but JJ wasn’t having it.

“You’re not leaving yet, Angel. Sit down, have some breakfast with me.”

“I really should go,” I said, trying to sound firm.

He caught my eye, that stubborn grin in place. “Nah, you’re staying. Besides, I make a mean omelette.”

I rolled my eyes but stayed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, we met up with the others at Pope’s dad’s shop, the smell of grilled fish and salty air a comforting backdrop to the day ahead.

“Don’t let it get in your head, bro. There’s three of them and only two of us,” JJ said to Pope as we worked—well, Pope, Kie, and I were working while JJ juggled a ball, showing off as usual.

“That’s some typical kook shit right there,” Pope replied with a smirk.

Just then, Mr. Heyward called out from the doorway.

“Hey Pope, someone’s here to see you.”

I looked up just in time to see Officer Shoupe walk in.

JJ edged closer to me, our arms brushing. He towered over me, but his eyes were locked on Shoupe.

“I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property,” Shoupe said, stepping forward with handcuffs in hand.

Pope looked at JJ, who just shook his head.

Shoupe moved closer to Pope, ready to cuff him.

“Whoa, Shoupe, what did he do?” Mr. Heyward asked, his voice tight with confusion. Shit. Pope’s dad didn’t know.

“Take a look at the warrant,” Shoupe told Mr. Heyward, holding it up.

“You’re arresting him?” I demanded, stepping forward as Shoupe began fastening the handcuffs on Pope.

Chaos erupted as Shoupe led Pope toward his car.

JJ followed with Kie and me right behind, along with Pope’s dad.

He stopped just short of the cop car, then turned toward me for a split second. That look in his eyes—I couldn’t read it—before he spun back and yelled,

“It wasn’t him! It was me.”

I froze, shock hitting like a punch. Why was he doing this? Pope had drowned the boat. JJ had no reason to step in.

“He tried to talk me out of it,” JJ continued, voice steady but raw. “But I was mad… sick of those assholes from Figure Eight. I lost my shit.”

He stepped closer to Pope.

“I can’t let you take the blame for something I did. You’ve got too much to lose.”

I called softly, “J?”

He glanced at me, a quick smile that didn’t reach his eyes, then turned back to Pope and Shoupe.

“What are you doing?” Pope asked, disbelief thick in his voice.

“I’m telling the truth,” JJ said, low and steady. “For once in my goddamn life, I’m gonna tell the truth. I took his old man’s boat, too.”

“JJ, come on,” Pope pleaded.

A sick twist hit my gut—JJ shouldn’t be stepping in. Tears pricked my eyes, but I forced them back, needing to see what would happen next.

Kie moved closer, sensing it, but I didn’t look at her. My eyes stayed on the scene.

“Just shut up, Pope,” JJ snapped sharply, then softened. “Just shut up.”

He turned to Shoupe.

“He’s a good kid. You know where I’m from.” Shoupe nodded slowly.

“This was all me,” JJ finished quietly.

Shoupe shifted his gaze to Pope. “That’s the whole truth?”

Before Pope could answer, JJ cut in. “The whole truth. Swear to God.”

“I was asking Pope,” Shoupe shot back, frustration clear.

JJ and Pope exchanged a long look. Finally, Pope nodded.

“Yeah. That about covers it.”

The handcuffs fell from Pope’s wrists. Shoupe reached for JJ’s.

“Can I have a minute before you put those on?” JJ asked, voice steady but pleading. “I’m not going to run—I just need to see her before we go.”

Shoupe looked between us, then, hesitantly, nodded.

“One minute, Maybank.”

JJ stepped forward, pulling me into a hug. Tears slipped out despite myself. He held me tight, no words—just us.

Pulling back, he cupped my face gently.

“I’ll see you soon. That’s a real promise. And I will keep this one—unlike this morning, when I forced us to have breakfast together first.”

We laughed softly at the memory.

“JJ, let’s go,” Shoupe called.

JJ leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead before being led away.

I watched the police car pull away, whispering to myself like a mantra,

He’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay.

I struggled to sleep that night, so instead, I filled Bella in on everything.

“Look,” she said gently, “what JJ did was sweet—for his friends. But you’ve always had good gut feelings. Let’s just hope this is one rare wrong one.”

She smiled softly before heading out and coming back with my all-time favourite movie, Beauty and The Beast. I settled in, trying to quiet the storm of thoughts swirling in my head, praying JJ would be okay.

JJ’s POV:

“You’re like a little rock in my shoe. I shake my foot, think I’ve gotten it out—and dang, there it is again.”

I look up just as Sheriff Peterkin walks in.

“Maybe watch where you’re stepping,” I shoot back.

Ange would’ve laughed at that. She laughs at all the things nobody else does.

I noticed a few tears slip out yesterday when I said goodbye. I hope she slept better than I did—God knows I didn’t.

“That little rock on the back of my heel makes me want to crush it.”

Do I care? Absolutely not.

“Okay.”

Peterkin lists off the charges I’m facing.

“All in the last two weeks—you’re on a roll, chief,” she says.

Yeah, real funny.

“If you think I’m gonna rat anybody out, you’ve got the wrong idea.”

She leans in, voice low and cold.

“I know your little teen brain doesn’t like to think ahead, but I want you to come with me to uncharted territory—the future. How’re you gonna feel six months from now, sitting in juvenile prison in Wadesboro? Don’t think your new girlfriend will be too happy about that.”

My blood boils at the mention of her. Ange.

She won’t even be here in six months, but they don’t know that.

I keep my mouth shut. Smart move. All I want to know is when I can get out and see her again.

Peterkin slides some photos across the table.

I glance at them—yeah, the Square Groupers—but I don’t say a word.

She stands, tone turning low and dangerous.

“My question was, do you know these two?”

I hesitate, searching for the right words.

“They… broke into John B’s house and chased us through the marsh. Other than that, no idea.”

She pushes two more photos toward me, and my stomach twists.

I want to throw up.

“Here’s a more recent one. Somebody gaffed them and used them for chum. What do you think, bullshark?”

Her tone drops even lower.

“Here’s the bad news, chief. Whoever killed these two men is still out there. And I’ve got reason to believe their next target is a friend of yours… John B.”

She pauses for effect.

“You kids don’t think you’re the only ones after the Royal Merchant, do you?”

How the hell does she know?!

“And yeah, I know about that too.”

My pulse spikes. John B.

“Okay, Sheriff Peterkin. I promise you—he’s not involved anymore.”

“So you say. I’m just trying to keep him safe. I want you to tell your friend John B to come in and talk to me. Let’s see if we can keep you out of Wadesboro.”

With that, she walks out, leaving me to slump back in the chair. The weight of it all presses down hard.

I stare at the empty door. John B’s name echoes in my head like a warning bell.

If he’s next… we’re all walking a tightrope with no safety net.

I’m stuck between wanting to protect him—and knowing I might not be able to.

What do I do now?

Simple. Find John B before whoever’s out there does. Get him to talk to Peterkin—maybe there’s a way to keep us all alive and out of Wadesboro.

First step: track down my friend. Fast.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ange’s POV:

“The purple one is cute,” I say, nodding toward the dress draped across Kie’s arm. She’s been pacing the room for the last ten minutes, cycling through half her closet like she’s about to walk a runway instead of hit Midsummers.

She holds the dress up against herself, considering. “With the purple flower headband?”

I tilt my head. “Yeah. It suits you.”

And it does — the colour makes her skin glow, and the headband pulls the whole thing together. She’s going to look beautiful.

“What are you wearing?” Kie asks, turning her attention to me.

“I don’t think I’ll be going,” I say, trying to keep my tone light, but the smile I offer her doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

Kie studies me for a beat before saying quietly, “JJ’s going to be okay, Ange. This isn’t his first time, you know.”

How does she always see right through me?

“Yeah, I know,” I admit, twisting my hands in my lap. “But what if he’s not? I can’t shake this feeling — it’s like… he’s not okay until I hear it from him. The longer it takes, the worse it gets.”

The words hang between us, raw and real.

Kie sighs, soft but certain. “Just come to Midsummers. It’ll keep your mind off it. Plus, I need someone there who I actually like — which, by the way, is a very short list.”

Her deadpan delivery breaks through the heaviness, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Okay,” I give in, rolling my eyes. “Guess we’re stopping by mine after to pick out a dress for me — or can I just wear pants?”

“NO!” she yells so dramatically that I burst out laughing again. “Dress only!”

I grin, shaking my head. “Guess it’s time to dust one off. They don’t exactly get much use.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I walk into Midsummers with my family but quickly break away, scanning the crowd for Kie or Pope. The air smells like salt and champagne — too fancy for what it’s worth — and the soft hum of strings mixes with the chatter of people who think they own this island.

I spot them near Pope’s family’s stall, where the sweet smoke of grilled fish curls into the night. They catch sight of me and wave me over, faces breaking into easy smiles.

“Have either of you heard from JJ?” Pope asks before I can even open my mouth.

Kie and I answer in perfect sync. “No.”

“He’ll be alright,” Kie says, trying for confidence. “The guy’s got the survival instincts of a cockroach.”

Pope exhales sharply, guilt flashing across his face. “It’s all my fault.”

“You didn’t do this, Pope. Topper almost killed you, remember?” I remind him gently, my voice firmer than I feel.

Before either of them can reply, a ripple moves through the crowd — polite clapping, a few forced cheers. We all turn toward the entrance.

A man in a pristine suit and a woman with a headband that could give Lady Liberty a run for her money stroll in like they own the place.

“Here come Lord Capital and the Exploiters,” Kie mutters.

“Who?” I ask, confused.

“Ward and Rose Cameron,” Pope explains. “Sarah and Rafe’s parents — well, stepmom in Rose’s case.”

“Ah, damn,” I say dryly. “Was hoping they’d be more interesting.”

They both snort, and for a moment, it feels normal again.

“I need a drink,” I announce. Kie nods, already leading the way.

We weave through the crowd, stopping briefly to greet my family. I try to play along, smile when expected, laugh at the right cues — but the music and laughter feel distant, like I’m underwater watching the world happen above me.

As I sip my drink, my eyes wander across the crowd. I know he’s not here — JJ would rather dive into a hurricane than come to an event like this — but the worry still gnaws at me.

Where is he right now? Is he okay?

The thought loops endlessly, tightening in my chest until it’s hard to breathe.

“So get this — there’s this guy I really liked before we got here,” Bella says suddenly, her voice breaking through my fog. “Total sweetheart… until he turned out to be a complete asshole.”

Kie laughs politely, but I’m barely listening. My brain registers the words — something about heartbreak and moving on — but my focus drifts again.

And then—

“Look—look, man, I can walk myself.”

That voice.

My head snaps up so fast I almost spill my drink. My pulse jumps.

JJ.

I turn, searching through the clusters of people until I see him — a few tables over, dressed in a white shirt, black vest, and a crooked bow tie that’s more chaos than charm.

But my stomach drops when I take in the rest of him.

What the hell happened to his face?

There’s a bruise blooming along his jaw, a faint cut near his eyebrow, the kind that makes you wonder if it hurts to even smile.

“I got legs, can you see that, brother?” he’s saying, tugging against the grip of a security guard.

Oh god. He’s definitely not supposed to be here.

“I really appreciate what you did for me back there,” he adds, his voice playful, slurred just enough to make my chest tighten.

This is about to get messy.

He hasn’t spotted me yet, and I hesitate — half a second of indecision — before deciding I’ll find him later, talk when things calm down.

But then:

“Mr. Dunleavy, I see you got your drink. Good, that’s really nice of you. I’m actually going to down that.”

JJ.

I can feel the crowd start to buzz — discomfort, judgment, whispers spreading like wildfire.

“It’s okay, everybody! Don’t panic!” JJ calls out dramatically. “Leave it to the men and women in uniform! Let’s hear it for them!”

He starts clapping like he’s at a comedy show, and I can’t help it — a small laugh escapes me. That’s him. That’s JJ.

Then he spots Rose.

“Rose! You look like Lady Liberty!”

Okay, now I’m laughing. Out loud. It slips through before I can stop it — half relief, half disbelief.

Security keeps trying to drag him away, but Kie’s voice cuts through the noise.

“Let go of him! You can’t just boot him!”

“Excuse me, ma’am?” one guard says, frowning.

“Ah, sir, sorry,” Kie corrects quickly.

“This one’s on me — I invited him. He’s my plus one.” Finally, I find my voice and step forward.

JJ’s eyes land on me — blue and bright even under the lights. For a second, the room fades.

He looks me over once, slow, lingering — my black A-line dress, the way the fabric moves when I shift. It hits me that he’s never seen me in something like this before.

And for a heartbeat, I swear he forgets how to breathe.

“Who are you exactly?” the security guard asks, pulling me back to reality.

I could tell him the truth. Or at least, the version that carries weight here. Once I drop that name, there’s no taking it back.

But screw it. If there was ever a time…

“Angela De Luca.”

The words drop like a stone in still water.

“Wait — you’re related to Daniel De Luca?” someone blurts out nearby.

“Yep. He’s my cousin.”

The ripple spreads instantly — whispers, glances, a few impressed murmurs.

Daniel De Luca — the soccer star, global celebrity, everyone’s favourite golden boy. My cousin. He’s the reason my family’s even here tonight.

While the crowd buzzes, JJ uses the distraction to shove the guard back gently, muttering an apology. Then, grinning like a man with a plan, he calls out:

“Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, girls! Pope, you too. Rixon’s Cove — let’s roll!”

His grin is pure chaos — a little bruised, a little reckless, and somehow still beautiful.

“All right, Kie, come on! Workers of the world, unite! Throw off your chains!”

Kie doesn’t hesitate — she bolts after him. Pope follows, groaning something about losing his mind.

But I stay frozen.

Am I supposed to go? Was that invite meant for me too, or am I just imagining it?

Then Bella nudges my shoulder, nodding toward the beach.

JJ stands there — framed by moonlight, the ocean behind him, arms wide open like an idiot who knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Waiting on you, Angel!” he calls, voice teasing but eyes locked on mine.

I glance toward Papa. He’s watching me quietly, then gives a small nod — permission, encouragement, understanding.

That’s all I need.

I hug him tight, whisper a quick thank you, and then I’m off — running toward JJ, grateful I wore flats.

When I reach him, I don’t think. I just jump into his arms.

He catches me easily — no stumble, no hesitation, like I weigh nothing at all. For half a heartbeat, that does something to me. I’m midsize; I know my body takes up space. But in his arms, it doesn’t feel like too much. It just feels… right.

He spins me once, laughter mixing with the crash of waves before setting me down gently.

For a second, neither of us says anything. He just looks at me — like he’s making sure I’m real — and I see it, the flicker of exhaustion he’s trying to hide behind that grin.

I almost ask what happened, but the words stick in my throat.

Not here. Not yet.

Instead, JJ just takes my hand, threading his fingers through mine, and the warmth of it anchors me.

And just like that, we’re off to Rixon’s Cove.

As Bella and I neared the beach, the music and chatter grew louder with every step.

The salty night air was thick with the smell of smoke from the bonfire, mingling with the ocean breeze. The hum of conversation and laughter carried across the sand, and I could already see the glow of firelight flickering ahead.

Bella, unsurprisingly, couldn’t stop talking about all the hot guys she’d seen that day. Ever since we got home from the beach, it was all she’d been going on about. I was only half-listening, my mind focused on spotting Kiara — and managing the creeping anxiety that always hit me in big crowds, especially when I didn’t know anyone.

I could tell Bella was a little tense too, though she was much better at hiding it than I was.

Finally, I spotted Kiara standing by a table near a keg with two guys. My stomach flipped when I realised one of them was the blonde surfer Bella had been drooling over earlier. The other, a brunette, was leaning casually on the table, laughing at something Kiara said.

Kie caught sight of us, her face lighting up as she waved us over.

“Oh my god, Ange! You made it — I’m so glad you came!” she said, pulling both me and Bella into quick hugs.

“Thanks for inviting us,” I said, smiling despite my nerves.

“Let me introduce you to my friends,” Kiara said, motioning to the guys beside her.

“This is John B,” she pointed to the brunette, “and this is JJ.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” Bella and I said at the same time, which made us both laugh.

“I’m Angela, but everyone calls me Ange,” I added, gesturing to Bella. “And this is my sister Isabella — but we call her Bella.”

“’Sup,” JJ said with a nod, his voice casual but his sharp blue eyes scanning us with curiosity. “Haven’t seen you around here before. How do you know Kie?”

Before I could answer, John B nudged JJ in the ribs.

“Dude. Don’t interrogate. Offer them a drink first,” he said with a grin, then turned to us. “Would you ladies like something to drink?”

“I’m good,” Bella said quickly, shaking her head.

“I’ll take one,” I said. I wasn’t a big drinker, but I enjoyed one every now and then. Growing up in Australia with an Italian family, drinking at gatherings was basically tradition.

As John B poured my drink, I waved off JJ’s concern. “It’s okay — JJ wasn’t being rude. The Outer Banks is a small place. I actually met Kie the last time I was here — I was about six, so… almost ten years ago now.”

JJ’s smirk softened into a small, almost shy smile, and for a split second, I thought I saw a blush creeping up his tanned cheeks. It was… kind of cute.

Whoa, hold up, Ange. I shut that thought down immediately. We are not going down that road again.

“So, you two are tourons then?” JJ asked, raising a brow.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Bella answered before I could.

While they talked, I let my gaze wander, taking it all in — the firelight reflecting on the waves, the pulse of music mixing with the sound of crashing surf, the easy laughter of strangers.

This wasn’t something I’d ever experienced back home. In Australia, I wasn’t exactly popular. I had one best friend (besides Bella) and two other close friends, but we rarely hung out unless we planned it weeks in advance.

This… this was new.

“Ange?” Bella’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah?” I blinked.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

“Yeah. Just… got lost in my thoughts,” I admitted with a small smile.

JJ jumped back into the conversation, his interest clear.

“So… where are you both from? Because you’re definitely not local. And with those accents, definitely not from anywhere in America.”

Before I could answer, Kiara suddenly shouted, “Pope!” and waved someone over.

A tall, lanky guy jogged up to us, grinning.

“Pope, this is my friend Ange and her sister Bella,” Kie introduced.

“Ah yeah, I’ve heard Kie mention you,” he said with a friendly nod. “I’m Pope — in case that wasn’t obvious.”

“Nice to meet you, Pope,” Bella said smoothly. Then she smirked at JJ. “I think JJ had a question for us before?”

I glanced at JJ and noticed his attention had shifted. His posture tensed, his eyes trained on something behind us.

Curious, I turned — and immediately spotted the source of his mood change.

A group of well-dressed, clearly-not-here-for-fun people were striding across the sand toward the bonfire, like they owned the place.

“Shit,” JJ muttered under his breath. “The Kooks are here.”

“It’s okay, JJ,” Kiara said quickly. “Maybe they’re just here for the fire. It’s not like this is private property.”

Pope must’ve noticed Bella and I looking confused.

“So basically,” he explained, “this island has two main groups — the Kooks and the Pogues. Long story short? We don’t exactly break bread together.”

“Got it,” I said, nodding.

JJ, however, wasn’t paying attention to us anymore. His expression had shifted into something entirely different — a cocky, troublemaking smirk.

Without a word, he strolled off straight toward a group of skinny blonde girls in barely-there outfits, his body language screaming confidence.

I raised a brow, unimpressed. “I take it he’s the playboy of the group?”

“Yep,” Kiara said, sighing.

I nodded, unsurprised.

Glad I figured that out early. Even if he was different, guys like that didn’t go for girls like me.

A tale as old as time.

I used to think that wasn’t true — until one broke my heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little while later, after chatting with John B and Pope, Kiara tugged me aside.

“So… what’s been going on with you lately?” she asked.

“Honestly, not much. Life’s been pretty boring since we last talked. I got a part-time job at a little shop back home, and now I’m here for the next six weeks.”

“Same here. Still trying to save the turtles,” she said with a laugh. “And, you know… just school and hanging with the Pogues.”

We both laughed, falling easily back into the rhythm of old friends catching up. I hadn’t realised how much time had passed until my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Mum.

“Hold on,” I told Kie, stepping away to answer.

“Hey, Mum. Yeah, we’re okay. Bella’s fine — she’s with some new friends. I’m still with Kie. Yeah, we’ll head home soon. Love you too.”

I hung up and gave Kie an apologetic smile.

“Don’t tell me you have to go,” she said, clearly disappointed.

“I’m really sorry,” I sighed. “I need to find Bella and head back before I get another call. This time it’ll probably be Dad.”

“I’ll help you find her,” she offered.

Five minutes later, we spotted Bella laughing with a small group. She looked disappointed when I said it was time to go, but hugged her new friends and promised to see them again.

“Bye, Kie. Say goodbye to the boys for us — I couldn’t find them again, and if I take any longer, Dad’s going to call,” I said, hugging her tightly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

JJ’s POV

I headed back toward the fire, looking for the guys to tell them I was heading out.

You know, when duty calls, JJ Maybank answers.

I spotted Kie, John B, and Pope where I’d left them, but no sign of the new girl.

Shit.

What was her name again? Something with an A. I couldn’t remember, and that pissed me off more than I expected.

I walked up to Kie.

“Hey, where did your friend go?”

“She had to head home,” Kie said. “It was getting late. She told me to say goodbye — and that it was nice meeting you.”

I nodded, hiding my disappointment. I barely got two sentences in with her before the damn Kooks showed up.

She seemed… different.

Not in the fake way most girls pretend to be different.

Actually different.

Which was exactly why I walked away earlier.

I don’t do feelings. I don’t do whatever this was starting to feel like.

So I did what I always do — distracted myself with someone else.

Still, I couldn’t get her out of my head.

“She said she’s here on holiday, right? Touron?” I asked casually, trying not to sound as interested as I felt.

Kie smirked, seeing right through me. “That’s what she said.”

“What was her name again?” I asked, already rolling a joint.

“Which one?” Kie asked, clearly enjoying this.

“The older one,” I said quickly. “Starts with an A.”

Kie grinned like a cat who’d caught a mouse.

“Her name’s Angela. But she goes by Ange.”

Angela.

Fitting. Something about angels…

And damn if that didn’t make her even harder to forget.

I finished rolling my joint, ignoring Kie’s sideways glances. She knew me too well.

Knew I never acted like this.

Across the fire, the blonde girl I’d been chatting up earlier started heading my way again.

I wasn’t interested anymore… but I had a reputation to maintain.

“See you all tomorrow,” I said, flashing them my signature smirk before walking toward the blonde.

But even as I laid on the charm, my mind wasn’t on her.

It was somewhere else entirely.

Back with a dark-haired girl I barely knew…

I heard my sister before I even opened my eyes, dragging me out of a rare peaceful sleep. We’d been in the Outer Banks for three days now, most of it spent sleeping in, settling down, and catching up with our aunt, uncle, and cousins. We weren’t especially close to them — mostly because of the age gaps — but I still cared enough to want to know how they’d been. It was strange — familiar faces in a place that didn’t quite feel like home yet.

“Ange?” my sister called from the doorway before walking right in without even waiting for a response. Typical Bella.

I prefer Ange — Angela feels too formal, and Angel never sat right with me.

“Can we please go to the beach today?” Bella begged, clasping her hands together like she was about to drop dead if I said no. “The sun’s out, and I wanna see some hot surfer dudes!”

I stared at her for a moment, still half-asleep, then thought — why the hell not? We’re on holiday, after all.

“Sure, sounds like a plan,” I said, even though I had zero interest in surfer dudes or romance right now. Especially not after what happened three weeks ago.

My last “almost relationship” ended before it even began — turned out the guy was just using me as a joke to impress his friends. Stubbornness has its perks, and something always felt off about him, so I held on to both my self-respect and my heart. Still, it stung.

Bella, on the other hand, was what I lovingly considered boy crazy. Everything she did seemed to revolve around boys. But as long as she was happy, that’s what mattered to me. We were opposites that way — she chased stories, I wanted peace.

I just wanted to sit on the sand, dive into my book, maybe take a swim. The ocean has always been where my mind feels the most at peace. Swimming comes naturally to me — calming and effortless, like breathing.

We threw on our swimsuits — mine under a loose cover-up, Bella’s paired with shorts — then packed our sunscreen, towels, my book, and our sunnies before heading out.

The walk to the beach was short but gorgeous. Sunlight glittered off the water as we passed rows of weathered houses with bikes leaning against fences and fishing boats bobbing in the harbour and the salty breeze rushing through our hair, warm and heavy with summer. It was exactly how I remembered the Outer Banks smelling when I was a kid — like sunscreen and ocean air mixed together.

By the time we found a spot on the sand, Bella was practically vibrating with excitement. We set up the umbrella (mostly over me, since I burn if I so much as look at the sun), laid down our towels, and got comfortable. I immediately cracked open my book while Bella tanned and scrolled through her phone, already scanning the beach for surfer boys like she was on a mission.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Angela? Is that you?”

I glanced up from my book, squinting against the sunlight. A girl was walking toward me, her outline familiar, though I couldn’t quite place her. As she got closer, I noticed her warm brown eyes — and my brain clicked.

“Oh my god — Kiara?!” I shouted, jumping up to meet her halfway. We collided in a hug, both of us squealing like complete idiots.

“What are you doing here?” Kiara laughed, pulling back.

“Visiting Aunty Jessica and Uncle Matthew,” I said with a grin.

“Girl, it’s been way too long! And you look amazing,” she said, giving me a once-over.

“Right back at you! Have you seen yourself? You’ve grown up into an actual goddess.”

Kiara grinned, cheeks flushing as she thanked me, and that’s when Bella wandered over, curious about who I was talking to.

“Oh! Kiara, this is my sister, Isabella — we call her Bella. Bella, this is Kiara, my friend from the last time we were here,” I introduced them.

They hugged, hitting it off instantly. Kiara even said she was glad to finally meet my “famous” sister — which Bella, of course, ate right up.

“What are you doing tonight, Ange?” Kiara asked, bouncing on her heels.

“Nothing, I think. Why?”

“My friends and I are having a bonfire. You should come! Bring Bella too.”

I winced. “Thanks, Kie, but I’m not really a party girl.”

“An-gelllaaaa,” she whined dramatically, nudging me with her elbow. “Live a little, would you? It’s not a wild rager — just a beach bonfire with chill vibes and hot people. Plus, you owe me catch-up time. Don’t make me drag you there myself.”

I hesitated, then remembered what I told myself that morning: You’re on holiday. Live a little.

“Alright, fine. I’ll come for a bit. No promises I’ll stay long.”

Bella lit up beside me. “Can I come too, Ange? Pleeease?”

“Yeah, sure. But no drinking, alright? You’re way too underage, and I’m not getting murdered by our parents.”

She squealed and hugged me, then hugged Kiara too before flopping back down on her towel to tan and ogle surfers.

Kiara and I quickly exchanged numbers and socials this time — no way I was losing contact again. She promised to text me the details before heading off to help her parents at their shop.

“So, I’ll see you tonight?” she called as she walked away.

“Yeah. See you tonight,” I said, smiling as I settled back onto my towel and opened my book again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bella smacked my arm so suddenly I almost dropped it.

“What is it, Bell?” I groaned, already suspecting the answer.

“Ange! You see that blonde one surfing out there? He’s so hot!”

I looked up and spotted the guy she was talking about.

Blonde, tanned, salt-slick hair clinging to his forehead. He cut through the waves like he owned the ocean, every move sharp and confident. Cute — yeah, I’d give her that.

But I wasn’t in the mood.

“Yeah, he’s kinda cute,” I said halfheartedly, not wanting to ruin her vibe. Then I turned back to my book. Honestly, fictional men were better than real ones right now. At least they’re written to be perfect — probably because they’re usually written by women, and that’s a fact I’ll always stand by.

Bella sighed dramatically, but let me be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening, as we got ready, Mum hovered with her fifth warning of the night.

“Angela, make sure you look after Bella and stay safe.”

“Yes, Mum, I will,” I promised, sliding my shoes on.

Bella chimed in, swearing up and down she’d behave — which we both knew wasn’t completely true, but I let it slide.

I kept my outfit simple: a black crop top and light blue ripped jeans that hugged my curves just right. My hair was loose, its natural waves falling over my shoulders. Bella had on black bike shorts and a white crop top — a different style than mine, but it suited her perfectly. She’s always been skinnier than me, blessed with a fast metabolism like Dad, while I took after Mum.

It took me a long time to love my body. People — classmates, distant relatives — tried to make me feel like I had to change. And trust me, I tried. But the less I obsessed over “fixing” myself and the more I focused on my mental health, the better I actually looked. My family and true friends never made me feel less than, and that was what mattered.

As Bella adjusted her top in the mirror, she buzzed with excitement. I, on the other hand, had a small knot in my stomach. I wasn’t a party girl, and the idea of walking into a crowd of strangers wasn’t exactly my idea of fun.

Still, I told myself, You’re on holiday. What’s the worst that could happen?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The walk to the beach was alive with the sounds of summer — laughter carrying on the breeze, the rhythmic crash of waves, the smell of salt and smoke from the bonfire up ahead.

When the flicker of firelight finally came into view, Bella grabbed my hand, practically dragging me forward.

I let her, my heart thudding a little faster.

Somewhere out there, past the circle of flames and unfamiliar faces, was someone I hadn’t met yet.

The gold wasn’t on The Royal Merchant, and the disappointment hit harder than I expected. Pope looked crushed, John B tried to spin hopeful theories, but I could see the stakes weighing on him. Kie decided we needed something “normal”—something that didn’t involve maps, treasure, or near-death situations. So we headed to the outdoor cinema.

Blankets and logs were spread under the stars. Kie and Pope were already teasing each other, while I followed JJ to our usual spot. He patted the blanket next to him.

“Here,” he said, grinning. I sat down, our legs brushing, and a warmth spread through me.

“So, tell me more about you,” he said, eyes glinting. “Australia. Italian roots. I feel like I’m missing half the stories.”

I laughed. “Oh, there are plenty. My nonna is ridiculous. One Christmas, she and nonno argued over… salami. My cousins started hiding it, and I spent the whole afternoon trying to keep the peace.”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s insane… and kind of amazing. I’m jealous. Your life sounds full of chaos.”

I nudged his arm lightly. “You’d last five minutes before running back to your world.”

“Pfft,” he said, leaning a little closer. “I think I’d survive. And maybe get to be part of it.”

Heat warmed my cheeks. “Part of it, huh? Careful what you wish for.”

He smirked, fingers brushing mine. “Oh, I like challenges.”

I glanced around at the blankets and the stars. “Okay… maybe I should grab a drink with Kie before the movie starts.”

He groaned dramatically, leaning back on his elbows. “Fine. But don’t take too long. I don’t like feeling like you’re slipping away.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling. “Relax, JJ. I’m not slipping away.”

He let his hand linger near mine a moment longer before I stood, giving me a crooked grin. “Go on, then… but hurry back.”

I shot him a playful look and walked off toward Kie, feeling the faint heat of his gaze following me across the sand.

The line moved quickly, and I was laughing at another story about my cousins sneaking extra salami into Sunday sandwiches when a sharp voice cut through the air.

“Hey, Kie.”

I froze, spinning around. A tall, blonde guy leaned casually against the drink stand, grin sharp, eyes cold. My stomach twisted.

Kie stiffened beside me. “Oh… hi. Can we help you?”

He tilted his head, voice low, like this was a private threat. “Who’s your new friend?” His gaze flicked over me like I was something to inspect, then back to Kie.

“She’s fine,” Kie said firmly, her hand gripping mine.

He smirked. “Alright. Tell your boy we know what he did.”

My chest tightened. He wasn’t joking—and I knew exactly who “your boy” meant.

We hurried back to the blankets, hearts hammering. JJ and Pope were there, and as soon as JJ saw us approaching, his posture stiffened. Something had shifted.

“Oh… we ran into Rafe,” Kie said casually. “He said he knows what you did.”

JJ’s jaw tightened. His eyes, sharp and dangerous, landed on me briefly, then swept over the sand like he was calculating the next move. My pulse raced.

A few minutes later, JJ and Pope stood up.

“Where are you going?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

JJ grinned, that mischievous glint back for a second as he leaned closer. “Gotta wring it out, Cupcake.” He winked.

“Together? What are you two gonna do—hold it for each other?” Kie scoffed.

They didn’t answer, just walked off.

The movie started, but I couldn’t focus. My stomach twisted.

“They’ve been gone too long, right?” I whispered to Kie.

She nodded. “Come on. Let’s go find them.”

We weaved through the crowd toward the back. My heart hammered. Something in my gut told me this wasn’t a bathroom break.

We rounded a corner, and the scene hit like a punch. Rafe Cameron and his crew had cornered JJ and Pope. Fists were flying, and JJ was taking hits he shouldn’t have. Pope was struggling too, shoved into the wall.

I didn’t hesitate. I jumped on the guy holding JJ, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist. He cursed and tried to shake me off, but I clung tighter. Being midsize definitely helped—I made it harder for him to get me off quickly.

JJ twisted, using the distraction to free himself. He shoved me gently behind him, stepping in front to shield me while still swinging at his attackers. His chest heaved, blood on his lip, knuckles split—but his eyes found mine, blazing with that mix of fury and something I couldn’t name.

Rafe laughed, mean and sharp. “That all you got, Maybank? Thought you’d be harder to break. Guess your new friend must’ve softened you up.”

JJ snapped. He lunged, tackling Rafe straight to the ground. Fists flew, wild and hard. Pope pulled one of the crew off him while Kie jumped into the fray, holding her own.

I stayed locked onto the guy I’d jumped, refusing to let go, until JJ ripped him off me with a wild shove.

Then Kie grabbed a lighter, holding it to the edge of the movie screen. Flames licked the fabric, casting a harsh glow.

“ENOUGH!” she yelled, voice cutting through the chaos.

Rafe and his crew scrambled back, faces lit by the firelight, before disappearing into the night.

I rushed to JJ. He pulled me into a rough, breathless hug, chest heaving. The fight, the flames, the chaos—it all faded in that instant.

He pulled back slightly, lips split, crooked grin in place. “Angel,” he rasped, voice low but cocky, “that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do.”

I laughed, breathless, exhilarated. And just like that, he was JJ again.

A small smile tugged at my lips. “Well, someone’s got to keep you out of trouble.”

He brushed a hand down his bruised cheek, then looked at me with that familiar mischievous glint. “You sure know how to make an idiot feel better.”

I bit my lip, still holding back. “Let’s get you back to the chateau before you attract more trouble.”

He grabbed my hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “You really are something, you know that?”

I glanced away, cheeks warming but my voice steady. “Don’t make me regret this.”

The next day, after we tested whether the drone—or the RVO as Pope insisted on calling it—actually worked at the pier, I headed back home. We all agreed to meet up later or possibly the next day, depending on when we were all free again.

JJ and Pope were out doing deliveries to the kook side of the island, and John B and Kie had their own errands to run for most of the day. So I figured it was a good time to catch up on some school work—finally. I knew my parents wouldn’t be happy if I completely ignored it, especially after everything that happened this week.

They never expect top marks from Bella and me—but they do want us to try, to at least keep up and do our best to pass. Fair enough.

I settled into my aunty’s study, flipping open my textbooks and notebooks, determined to be productive. It took a bit of time to get into the right headspace, but eventually I started making progress.

By the time I finished studying, the sun was already sinking low. I needed air.

The beach was glowing — all gold and blue — and sure enough, the Pogues were out on the water. My eyes scanned the waves until they landed on him. JJ.

He rode a wave like it was nothing, golden curls dripping, grin bright enough to blind. I couldn’t look away. God, he made it look easy. Unfair, really.

I found a spot on the sand, half-reading, half-watching — okay, mostly watching.

“Why’s your nose always in a book, Angel?”

I jumped. JJ dropped down beside me, dripping wet and grinning like he’d just caught me in the act.

“You could try saying hi like a normal person,” I said, closing my book before it got soaked.

“That still doesn’t answer my question.” He leaned back on his hands, eyes glinting. “You should’ve been watching the waves. There was a pretty good-looking guy out there.”

“Hmm. Must’ve missed him.”

He gasped, clutching his chest. “Brutal.”

“Truth hurts, Maybank.”

He laughed — that low, easy sound that always got to me.

“Oh wait, maybe I did see him,” I said, pretending to think. “Looked kind of… average.”

JJ’s jaw dropped. “Average?”

“Painfully.”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “Oh, darling… you haven’t seen my skills yet.”

Then he winked.

WINKED.

My face went up in flames. I buried it in my knees as he laughed.

“You’re the worst,” I muttered.

“You love it.”

He slung an arm around my shoulders, casual but sure, and suddenly my pulse was doing weird gymnastics.

“How’d the studying go?” he asked, voice softer now.

“Good,” I said, grateful for the subject change. “Lost track of time.”

“Glad you came.”

We sat there for a while — quiet, easy. I didn’t want to move.

Then JJ said, “Come to John B’s after this?”

I hesitated. “I promised my parents I’d be home by seven.”

He gave me the look. Puppy dog eyes. Unfair.

“I’ll take you home on my bike,” he said. “Promise.”

I made the mistake of meeting his eyes. Big mistake.

“Fine,” I sighed. “But we leave right after.”

JJ’s grin was instant. “Deal.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time we rolled up to John B’s, the sun had dipped low, smearing the sky in pinks and golds. The house was alive—lanterns strung across the porch, music drifting faintly, the Pogues spread over the sand like they owned it.

Kie perched on an overturned crate, Pope sprawled dramatically mid-argument, and John B tossed in commentary just to stir them up. It felt easy, familiar—like stepping into a world that didn’t expect anything of me.

Before I could decide where to sit, JJ tugged me toward the hammock. “Best seat in the house,” he declared, dropping into it so hard it rocked.

I raised a brow. “Or the fastest way to end up face-first in the sand.”

He patted the space beside him. “C’mon, Angel. Live a little.”

Rolling my eyes, I eased in. His arm stretched behind me instantly, brushing my shoulders like it belonged there. My pulse jumped, but I forced my voice steady.

“You know, for someone who thinks he’s fearless, you’re basically begging to flip us.”

“That’s just strategy,” he said. “You’ll cling to me if we fall.”

I scoffed. “More like I’d use you as a landing cushion.”

“Worth it,” he grinned.

The hammock rocked lazily, his shoulder warm against mine. Across the sand, Pope’s voice rose sharp and fast while Kie rolled her eyes every other word.

“You ever notice,” JJ murmured, “how Pope argues like a professor and Kie argues like she’s already grading him?”

I bit back a laugh. “You’re just mad she’d destroy you.”

“Babe, I don’t debate,” he said, smug. “I win by charm.”

“Charm,” I repeated. “Is that what you call it?”

His grin softened. “Worked on you, didn’t it?”

Heat crept up my neck. “You wish.”

“Nah. Don’t wish. You’re still here. That’s fact.”

Something fluttered in my chest, but before I could answer, Pope called, “JJ, back me up—tell them I’m right about the gold!”

Without looking up, JJ yelled back, “You’re not, but thanks for playing.”

Laughter rippled through the group, but he kept watching me like my reaction mattered more than the argument. I tried not to notice. Tried.

For a while it was easy—just warmth, voices, the sway of the hammock. Then I checked my watch. 6:55.

Dad’s voice echoed: Don’t be late, Ange.

I shifted, nudging JJ. “Hey. It’s almost seven. You promised you’d get me home.”

He waved a hand. “It’s not even dark yet. Stay a little longer.”

“JJ,” I said quietly, “I told them seven. I can’t just—”

He laughed softly. “Angel, come on. One night where you don’t worry so much.”

“It’s not about worrying,” I said. “It’s about trust.”

His smile thinned. “You’re such a damn adult sometimes,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “Can’t you just let it go for once?”

It was meant to be light—but it landed heavy. “It’s not that simple.”

Frustration flickered. Then sharper, unfiltered: “You’re such a goody two-shoes, Angel.”

The words hit like a slap. My chest clenched, heat rising to my face. I pushed up from the hammock. “Right. Guess that’s my cue.”

“Ange—”

But I was already walking, the sound of the waves swallowing whatever he tried to say.

Behind me, the laughter carried on, but the air felt colder—like I’d left something behind I wasn’t sure I could get back.

JJ’s POV

She was gone before I even knew what to say. One second she was right there, warm and close; the next—just sand in her footsteps, shoulders stiff with anger. At me.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. Goody two-shoes. I hadn’t meant it like that. It just slipped. But the way her eyes dropped, like I’d broken something good—yeah, that stung.

“Nice going, Maybank,” Pope muttered. “Real smooth.”

“Shut up, Pope,” I said automatically, eyes on the curve of the beach where she’d disappeared.

John B whistled. “Man, most guys try to get girls to stay. You chase ’em off.”

Even Kie smirked, but it didn’t feel funny. Not tonight.

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. “She just leaves. Like it’s nothing. Who does that?”

Kie’s voice cut through, sharp but not unkind. “Someone who actually cares what her parents think. She’s not like us, JJ.”

“Yeah, I get that, but—”

“No, you don’t.” She stepped closer. “You push because that’s how you live. But she won’t break her word just to make you happy. That’s not who she is.”

Her words settled like stones in my stomach.

“She’s not ditching you,” Kie added, softer. “She’s showing you she can be trusted. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to be here. Doesn’t mean she doesn’t want you.”

My heartbeat stuttered.

“Go get her,” Kie finished. “Don’t let her think you don’t care enough to try.”

And suddenly it clicked. She wasn’t leaving because she didn’t want to be here. She was leaving because she kept her word.

And I’d made fun of that.

“Shit.” I shot up, the hammock swinging wildly behind me.

“Where you going?” John B called.

“To fix it.” I was already running to my bike.

I saw her striding down the street, book clutched like armour, shoulders stiff, head down. My gut twisted. She’s walking alone, Bella isn’t with her, and for once, I can’t just let her handle it herself.

“Kie’s right,” I muttered under my breath. “I promised.”

That stupid book, I thought, jaw tightening. Always with her, like it could shield her from the world. And here I am, chasing after her because I can’t stand the thought of something happening to her. Because I care too damn much.

The engine roared beneath me as I caught up to her. “Angel!” I shouted, voice cracking slightly.

She froze, glancing back with that exasperated look she always gives me — half irritation, half amusement. “JJ…,” she said, calm but guarded.

“Get on!” I barked, weaving between the dim streetlights. “I made a promise! You are not walking alone tonight!”

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t pick up her pace. “I can walk, JJ,” she shot back, arms tightening around her book.

“No. No walking. Not tonight. Not with these streets dark. Not with you holding that stupid book like it’s a life raft!” My chest tightened at the sight of her so cautious, so careful, and I wasn’t even sure if I could breathe.

Her lips twitched at the nickname, fighting back a smile. “It’s a good book, thank you very much. And I’m not a kid—”

“I don’t care!” I cut in, exasperated, heart hammering. “I promised. Now get on the damn bike!”

She hesitated, staring at me like she was weighing every reason she shouldn’t. Then, with a dramatic sigh, she swung her leg over. “Fine. Only because I trust you won’t crash.”

Relief hit me like a punch, and I grinned. “Deal. Hold on tight.”

Her hand brushed mine as she settled in. Instinctively, I tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear. She huffed teasingly, “You’re really intense sometimes, you know that?”

“Intense? Me?” I smirked. “I’m just… keeping my promise. You’re worth it.”

She rolled her eyes, but I caught the tiniest smile. Her trust hit me harder than I expected, and for once, the tension between us didn’t feel like a battle — it felt like we were almost in sync.

The bike roared beneath us, wind biting at our faces. Her arms tightened around my waist, and my chest twisted in ways I didn’t want to name.

“You’re dramatic, you know that?” she said over the engine.

“Dramatic?” I yelled back, grinning. “That’s rich coming from the girl who stormed off like she was leading a rebellion.”

Her laugh, muffled against my back, made something ache inside me. Something I didn’t want to think about.

“You could’ve let me walk,” she said after a beat, softer.

“Nope. Not happening,” I shot back. “You walking alone? I’d never forgive myself.”

She pressed closer, teasing, “I’m not exactly helpless, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” I smirked, leaning slightly into the turn. “You could take me out if you wanted. But that’s not the point, Angel.”

Her arms tightened again. That tiny shift, that trust — it made my chest swell with this chaotic mix of relief and fear. I didn’t know what I’d do if she stayed, if she left, if she saw how much I cared.

“What’s the point then?” she asked, quiet now, voice soft against the wind.

I swallowed, staring down the moonlit street. “That I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you. Not you.”

Her head pressed just enough against my back that I couldn’t tell if it was to hide her reaction or because she trusted me. And for once, I wanted to hold onto that trust more than I wanted to argue, more than I wanted to tease.

I grinned, filling the silence with what I do best — banter. “Besides, if I let you walk, who’d keep my ego in check when I brag about being the best driver on the island?”

Her laughter floated over the engine. “Best driver? You’re the definition of reckless.”

“Reckless?” I said, grinning. “Minor details.”

Her laugh softened into something warmer, something that lingered against my back. And I felt it — the tension, the pull, the nearly-there closeness that made everything else fade away for just a few heartbeats.

Ange’s POV: 

The bike slowed as we reached the familiar driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires. JJ killed the engine, and the sudden quiet left only the hum of cicadas in the trees.

I hesitated before climbing off, the warmth of the ride fading too quickly in the night air. JJ swung a leg over, restless as always, like he wasn’t sure whether to stay or bolt.

“Made it,” he said, a little too casual. “Promise kept.”

I gave him a small smile. “Thanks for… you know. Not letting me walk.”

“Like that was ever an option,” he replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. For once, his grin didn’t quite reach his eyes.

The porch light flicked on, and Bella peeked around the doorway, silhouetted against the glow. “Finally,” she whispered, smirking like she knew exactly what had happened.

JJ glanced at her, then back at me. “Guess that’s my cue.”

I nodded, but didn’t move right away. Neither did he. For a moment, we just stood there—too much left unsaid, too much I wasn’t sure how to ask.

Finally, he rubbed the back of his neck and forced a grin. “See you tomorrow, Angel.”

The nickname, soft this time, sank into me before I could reply. I just nodded and slipped toward the porch, Bella’s gaze following me the whole way.

Once inside, I sank onto the couch beside her, resting my head lightly on her shoulder. She didn’t miss a beat. “You’re fine,” she whispered, holding up the book in my hands like it was proof of my bravery. “I told Papa you went out for ice cream with Kie.  You’re safe.”

I let out a long breath. “Thanks,” I muttered, guilt curling in my chest.

“You owe me for not tattling,” she teased, then softened. “But seriously… you okay? You look… torn.”

I stared down at the book, JJ’s voice still echoing in my head—the frustration, the plea, the way he’d fought to keep his promise. “I just… I don’t know what he wants,” I admitted quietly. “And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with how I feel about it.”

Bella’s grin was small, mischievous but knowing. “You’ll figure it out, Ange. Just… don’t let it twist you into someone you’re not. And make sure he deserves the heart you give him.”

I nodded, still unsure if the knot in my chest had loosened. Later, lying in bed, I stared at the ceiling long after the house had gone quiet. JJ’s grin, his voice, his touch—it all looped through my mind like a song I couldn’t turn off. Tomorrow would bring something new. Maybe answers. Maybe more confusion. And yet… part of me already couldn’t wait to see him again.

JJ’s POV:

I should’ve just taken off when Ange disappeared inside, still holding that damn book. But my hands stayed on the handlebars, eyes glued to the front door like a total idiot. She didn’t come back out. Of course she didn’t.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. What the hell are you doing, Maybank?

She looked so careful, like even walking through that door late might break something. And I hated it. Hated how much I wanted to fix it for her—storm inside, tell her dad she’d been with me, swear I’d never let anything happen to her. But that’s not my life. Not her house. Not how it works.

I forced the grin back on, even if no one was around to see it. “Sweet dreams, Angel,” I muttered, like a total idiot talking to the night, before kicking the bike into gear and tearing down the street.