The party was wild—Kooks and Pogues pretending to tolerate each other for the night, but the tension was always there, simmering under every laugh, every look.

You were leaning against a wall, sipping something sweet and strong, trying to ignore the fact that you were so over this scene. Drunk people everywhere, loud music, and the fact that JJ Maybank was somewhere around made your blood boil. You hated him—cocky, loud, trashy Pogue who lived to piss you off.

You were minding your own business when a guy stumbled over, drink sloshing in his cup. He was drunk. Way too drunk.

“Heyyy, you look lonely,” he slurred, swaying.

“I’m not interested,” you said flatly.

He grinned like you hadn’t spoken. “Come on, don’t be like that…”

You tried to step around him, but he blocked your path.

“I said no.”

He didn’t care.

Before you could react, his hands grabbed your waist and he kissed you—sloppy, uninvited, forceful. You shoved at his chest, trying to twist away, but he was stronger, heavy and clumsy and not letting go.

Then suddenly—he was gone.

Ripped off of you.

You gasped, stumbling back as someone shoved the guy hard against the wall.

JJ.

He stood between you and the drunk, chest heaving, eyes dark. “You deaf or just f**king stupid?” he growled.

The guy tried to swing, but JJ was faster—one punch, hard and clean, sent him to the ground.

“You don’t touch her again,” JJ snapped, voice low, venomous.

You stared, breath shaky, chest tight.

JJ turned to you, jaw clenched. “You good?”

You blinked. “You helped me?”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Just because I hate you doesn’t mean I’ll stand by while some loser forces himself on you.”

You swallowed, voice soft. “Thanks…”

He met your eyes, a flicker of something unreadable passing between you.

“Whatever,” he muttered, turning away.

But for the first time… your hate for JJ didn’t feel so simple.