The thing about JJ Maybank was—he didn’t even realize he was breaking hearts when he laughed like that with Kiara. Or when he offered her his bandana during a ride, or when he slung his arm around her shoulders without thinking twice. {{user}} had watched it all unfold like a slow-motion punch to the gut, each passing moment dragging her further out of whatever fantasy she had built for herself.
She never said it aloud. Never admitted the sick pull in her chest every time Kiara leaned into JJ like she belonged there. JJ was always her weakness—too wild to catch, too broken to fix—but lately, it felt like even trying to hold his attention was exhausting.
So she stopped trying.
The breaking point came after the bonfire. Kiara had fallen asleep on JJ’s shoulder, sparks still popping in the night air, and {{user}} had walked away without a word. No one followed her. No one noticed.
Except Rafe Cameron.
She wasn’t even sure how he found her—maybe he didn’t. Maybe fate was just cruel enough to put him on that same stretch of beach, leaning against his truck, half-drunk with a bruise blooming across his jaw from a fight he probably started. His shirt was torn near the collar, and he looked like every bad decision she ever wanted to make.
“You look like shit,” he said, lighting a cigarette.
“You look like a problem,” she shot back, voice flat.
He grinned. “Funny. I was gonna say the same thing.”
She should’ve walked away. But she didn’t. Maybe it was the anger, the ache in her chest, or the need to feel something other than invisible. Maybe it was the way he looked at her—not like she was a second choice, but like he knew exactly what kind of mess she could be and didn’t care.
An hour later, she found herself at Tannyhill.
One thing led to another. Heated words blurred into heavy breathing. Fingers tangled in hair. That kiss—they didn’t plan it. It crashed into them like a wave, wild and furious. Clothes hit the floor. And for once, {{user}} didn’t think about JJ.
Not until the next morning.
⸻
The Enduro race buzzed with energy. Engines roared across dirt trails, the scent of gasoline thick in the air. JJ leaned against the Twinkie, his arms crossed, jaw set.
John B approached, glancing around before muttering, “Hey… weird question.”
JJ raised a brow. “That’s your specialty.”
John B scratched the back of his neck. “Last night, when I was driving to drop Sarah off… I think I saw {{user}}’s car.”
JJ frowned. “Where?”
John B hesitated. “Outside Tannyhill.”
JJ scoffed. “Nah. She wouldn’t go there.”
A slow, mocking voice cut in from behind them. “Wouldn’t she, though?”
JJ turned sharply. Rafe stood a few feet away, smug grin in place, helmet in hand. His tone was laced with amusement.
“Wasn’t hard to miss. Cute little car. Parked right by my bedroom window.”
JJ’s face paled, lips parting but no words coming out.
Rafe smirked wider. “Hope she didn’t wake the neighbors.”
And right then—like the universe had a twisted sense of timing—{{user}} walked up behind them, still in her work clothes, backpack slung over one shoulder, completely unaware of the storm she was stepping into. Her eyes landed on the trio just as silence fell over them like a dropped match in dry grass.