𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The silk draped perfectly against your skin as you moved across the dance floor, spinning with Sarah beneath the sparkling lights of Midsummers. The air was thick with the hum of music, clinking glasses, and muffled laughter—just enough to drown out the noise in your head. And lately, that noise only had one name.

JJ Maybank.

That was the beginning and end of it, really. The secret. The mistake. The thrill. The danger.

No one could know, especially not Rafe Cameron. Your boyfriend.

Being with JJ was reckless—dangerous, even. And not just because of who he was, but because of who you were supposed to be. A Kook. Rafe’s girlfriend. The girl who belonged at Midsummers, not sneaking around the Cut with a Pogue.

You’d already seen what happened when Rafe caught wind of you hanging with Kiara. He hadn’t spoken to you for a week, and when he finally did, it was only to say, “Don’t make me look stupid again.”

But tonight, you weren’t thinking about Rafe. Or JJ. You were just trying to feel like yourself again.

You’d shown up with Rafe—of course you had—but he was too busy drinking and doing God knows what with his cokehead friends in the back garden to even remember you existed. So now, here you were, dancing with Sarah.

Sarah, who was also pretending. Pretending she wasn’t falling headfirst for a boy from the Cut. John B. Another name she didn’t dare say out loud. Goddamn Pogues.

She didn’t know about JJ. You hadn’t told her. Couldn’t tell her. Not because you didn’t trust her… but because she was Rafe’s sister. And no matter how close you two were, blood always ran thicker.

Everything was going fine—better than fine—until he showed up.

JJ.

Wearing a crisp black suit, a bow tie hanging around his neck. He had a tray of drinks in his hand, like he’d just walked in from catering, but the smirk on his face was anything but professional.

He moved to the beat subtly, like the rhythm was something only he could hear, then stopped in front of the two of you.

“Delivery from Vlad,” he said smoothly, handing Sarah a folded note.

“Vlad?” she echoed, her voice laced with recognition of the nickname for John B, brows raised as she opened the slip of paper.

Meet me at the dock in 10. —Vlad

Sarah glanced at JJ, then at you, curiosity flickering behind her eyes. She shrugged and walked off without asking any more questions.

Now you were alone.

Your gaze darted through the crowd, searching for Rafe—panic already rising in your chest like smoke from a fire you couldn’t control.

“JJ, what are you—”

“Meet me in the back room. Five minutes.” He winked at you, slipped a glass into someone else’s hand, and strolled off like he hadn’t just flipped your entire world upside down.