The sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore seemed to echo JJ’s growing frustration as he watched you from across the beach. There you were, standing with your friends—laughing, carefree, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside him. It wasn’t like he wanted to feel this way.

“Stop looking at her, man. She’s not worth it,” Pope warned, giving him a knowing glance, but JJ couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Why does she have to exist?” He grumbled under his breath.

You were smart, cunning, and so damn good at making him feel like he was just a mess compared to you. The rivalry between you two had started over something petty—an argument over a beach party invitation that escalated to name-calling and one too many drinks. And from there, it spiraled. It was always little jabs, sarcastic comments, the kind of insults that weren’t enough to start a full-blown fight but still hurt.

“Got a problem, Maybank?” You had asked earlier that day when he accidentally bumped into you. That same arrogance you always carried with you, like you had something to prove. JJ just shot you a glare, hands shoved in his pockets, but there was something about the way you challenged him that made his pulse quicken, even though he couldn’t admit it.

You hated the way he acted so recklessly, the way his grin hid the mess he truly was beneath the surface. You hated how much he seemed to care about what people thought, even when he pretended he didn’t. But most of all, you hated how close you’d gotten to him without meaning to. He was a constant, a reminder that some things just couldn’t be avoided, no matter how much you tried to steer clear.

As you walked down the beach later that night, JJ’s eyes never left you, a familiar tension hanging between you two like a thick fog. He could feel it in his bones—the inevitability of it.