The air between you and JJ had grown heavier with every passing week, every glance lingering too long, every touch leaving your skin burning. What started as a drunken mistake had spiraled into something neither of you could stop—a dangerous game that neither of you were willing to end.

You hadn’t told him about John B. How could you? Your relationship with John B had stayed private, something you both agreed to keep from the Pogues for now. But everything changed when John B finally blurted it out over beers at the Château, grinning ear to ear. “We’ve been keeping it low-key, but yeah, {{user}} is my girl.”

JJ froze, beer halfway to his lips. His smile faltered, but he played it cool, cracking a joke to mask the sharp sting of betrayal. He didn’t say anything to John B, didn’t even look at you—until later.

That night, he invited you to his house, his jaw tight as he opened the door. “We need to talk.”

The second you stepped inside, the anger radiated off him. “How long?” he demanded, his voice low but filled with fury. “How long have you and John B been together?”

You hesitated, heart pounding. “A few months…”

JJ let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “A few months? So the whole time, you’ve been sneaking around with me, you were with him? My best friend?”

“JJ, I—”

“No,” he cut you off, his voice cracking. “You should’ve told me. I started falling for you, {{user}}. And you—” He stepped closer, his anger giving way to hurt. “You’re with him? Why the hell did you even let this happen?”

Tears stung your eyes. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

JJ shook his head, stepping back. “Yeah? Well, you did.”

The silence between you stretched unbearably, but the damage had already been done.