The morning light leaked through the thin curtain, warm and far too bright for the hangover pounding behind {{user}}’s eyes. Her mouth was dry, her limbs tangled in scratchy sheets that weren’t hers. She blinked, brain foggy, and sat up slowly—instantly freezing when she realized where she was.

JJ’s room.

His shirt was hanging off the desk chair. Her shorts were on the floor. Her bra—God, her bra—was by the door. She winced, dragging the blanket around herself as she stood, moving quickly and quietly, praying she could sneak out before JJ woke up.

But the creak of the floorboards betrayed her.

He groaned from the bed, voice rough and low. “You’re really gonna sneak out on me?”

She ignored him, making a beeline to the mirror above his dresser. The second she caught her reflection, she felt her heart drop. There, stamped boldly just below her jaw, was a deep, unmistakable mark—one JJ Maybank had definitely left.

“What the hell,” she muttered under her breath, reaching up to cover it. JJ’s voice behind her was amused, smug in that way only he could pull off.

“Relax,” he said, stretching with a lazy grin. “Looks good on you.”

She spun to face him, panic in her chest. “John B is gonna kill me.”

JJ just smirked wider. “Guess I better make it worth it then.”