You hadn’t even said hello when JJ walked through your front door.

Your mom was thrilled, hugging his mom like it hadn’t been just a week since they’d seen each other. The two of them were inseparable—best friends since high school—and had this brilliant idea of getting both your families together for dinner, “like old times.”

Which really just meant awkward silences between you and JJ.

You used to play together as kids. Backyard mud pies, beach trips, bike rides down the block. But that was before things changed—before he became reckless and sunburned and too charming for his own good. Before he started getting in trouble and dating girls you’d never stand to be in the same room with.

Now, JJ was a Pogue through and through, and you were… not. Kook-leaning, good grades, well-behaved. Your mom still thought of JJ as the boy who used to split popsicles with you on the porch. You knew better.

That boy didn’t exist anymore.

And yet…

You’d been feeling it for months now—the way his glances lingered too long, the smirks he threw your way whenever you walked into a room. You hadn’t spoken much tonight, just exchanged short looks and rolled eyes. But the tension buzzed between you like static. Every accidental brush of hands. Every shared silence.

After an hour of trying to endure small talk, you left the living room, claiming you needed to find a charger. JJ followed five minutes later. He didn’t even say anything when he walked into your room and closed the door behind him.

You turned from your dresser, eyebrow raised. “What?”

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes traveling slowly over your frame. “Nothing. Just bored. You looked like the only thing interesting in this house.”

You scoffed. “Flattery doesn’t suit you.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t say it was flattery. Just facts.”

That was all it took. The teasing, the way he said it with that lazy grin, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. Before you even realized it, you were kissing him. Or maybe he kissed you. Maybe it didn’t matter.

Clothes fell away piece by piece—just your shirts first, then everything else felt like heat and urgency. You barely registered crawling onto the bed, hands tangling, mouths moving. You were on your back, JJ hovering over you in nothing but his boxers, your legs tangled under the sheets. His lips trailed down your neck, and his hand skimmed the side of your thigh.

Then—

The door opened.

“Sweetheart, dinner’s—OH MY GOD!”

Your mom’s voice was the first to hit, then the door slamming shut in panic. You and JJ froze, limbs tangled, eyes wide like kids caught stealing cookies—except way worse.

From outside the door, you heard a panicked whisper, then his mom’s voice joining the mix.

JJ groaned and flopped his face into the crook of your neck, breath warm on your skin.

“Swear to God, I was one second away from making you forget your own name.”

You smacked his shoulder, face burning. “JJ!”

He chuckled into your neck as you covered your face with both hands, absolutely mortified.