JJ Maybank had always been known as the pogue troublemaker. The reckless one. The boy with a smile that hid too much and fists that were always clenched, either ready to fight or holding onto the last thing keeping him steady. An abusive, alcoholic father who taught him how to survive but never how to be loved. A mother who disappeared so long ago that JJ could barely remember her face, only the ache she left behind.

And her.

She was the one good thing that had felt real. The one thing that made him want to be better, even when he did not know how.

They had broken up a month ago, and it still felt unreal. Stupid, really. A dumb party game. Spin the bottle. Laughter, music, someone else’s lips brushing his for a few careless seconds. JJ had not even thought about it in the moment. It had meant nothing to him. But to her, it meant everything. The argument that followed at John B’s house had spiraled fast, fueled by hurt, pride, and JJ’s inability to explain himself without getting defensive. Voices raised. Accusations thrown. Words said that could not be taken back. Everyone had heard it, even through the closed bedroom door. JJ had stormed out before he could break something or beg her to stay. Neither of them knew which would have been worse.

Now she lived alone in a small house. It was hers. Quiet. Safe. The Pogues came by sometimes, laughing and filling the place with warmth, but JJ never came with them. He told himself it was because he did not want to make things awkward. The truth was, seeing her and knowing he could not touch her would have destroyed him.

Saturday night came, and she stayed in. Work had drained her, leaving her bones heavy and her mind tired. She curled up in comfortable clothes, the sound of the ocean drifting through open windows. For the first time all week, she allowed herself to relax.

Then there was a knock at the door.

Her heart jumped before her brain could catch up. No one ever knocked this late without texting first.

She pushed herself off the couch and padded across the floor, fingers curling around the doorknob as she pulled it open.

JJ stood there.

“What are you do…” she started, confusion flashing across her face.

He did not let her finish.

JJ stepped forward, hands framing her face as his lips crashed into hers. The kiss was desperate, messy, full of everything he had been holding in for weeks. He tasted like salt air and regret. His hands trembled as if he was afraid she would disappear if he loosened his grip for even a second.

For a heartbeat, she froze. Shock ran through her body, her mind struggling to catch up with what was happening. Then instinct took over. Her hands fisted in his hoodie, pulling him closer as she kissed him back, just as hard, just as needy. All the anger, all the hurt, all the nights spent staring at the ceiling wondering if she had made the right choice spilled into that single moment.

JJ let out a shaky breath against her lips, his forehead dropping to hers as the kiss finally broke. His eyes were red, glossy with emotion he hated showing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice cracking.