You and JJ had known each other for as long as you could remember. Though you weren’t as inseparable as he was with your brother, John B, there was still an easy, undeniable connection between you two. You could always count on JJ to brighten your day with his reckless charm and his contagious energy. The Pogues often teased the two of you, claiming you were a “perfect match.” But you always brushed it off, laughing with them, unwilling to entertain the idea for fear of ruining your friendship with him.

That worked—at least for a while.

Then things changed. You weren’t sure exactly when it happened, but somewhere along the line, you started to notice the way his laughter could light up your day, even on the worst ones. The way he seemed to know how to lift your spirits when you needed it most. Your heart would race every time he casually draped an arm around your shoulders or tossed one of his infamous smirks your way.

You made excuses to avoid hanging out with him and the Pogues, kept conversations short, and tried to put distance between you two before he could suspect anything. But JJ wasn’t stupid—at least not when it came to the people he cared about.

One afternoon, as you rummaged through the back of the Twinkie, searching for a spare flashlight, JJ’s voice cut through the stillness like a knife.

“You good?” he asked, his tone more serious than usual.

You froze, your hands lingering over a pile of junk in the van. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” you replied, your voice light but forced.

JJ stepped closer, leaning against the side of the Twinkie with his arms crossed. His blue eyes studied you carefully, and you felt exposed under his gaze. “Don’t give me that,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’ve been acting really weird the past few days. Actually, no, the past few weeks. What’s going on?”