The party was at its peak - loud music, fire lit, everyone laughing and dancing. You were talking to a new boy, someone Kiara had brought. JJ watched from afar, glass in his hand, jaw locked.

When the guy put his hand on his waist, it was enough.

JJ crossed the sand in three steps.

“Can you excuse me?” He said dryly, already pulling you by the wrist without waiting for an answer.

Away from the bonfire, you turned around, annoyed.

“What’s your problem?”

“My problem? My problem is that that asshole was looking at you as if he knew you.”

“He was just being nice, JJ.”

“Cool is one thing. Touching you is another. Do you think he knows you better than I do?”

You were silent.

“Because I know the way you bite your lip when you’re nervous. I know you hate tequila, but you drink anyway just to keep up with the crowd. And I know that, now, you’re just angry because you also want to kiss me.”

“You’re an idiot,” you murmured.

“And you’re mine,” he replied before pulling you into a desperate, possessive and undeniable kiss.