JJ Maybank swore up and down that he was over you. After months of back and forth—late-night arguments, makeups that never fixed the cracks, and one final fight that neither of you had the heart to recover from—JJ decided he’d had enough. “It’s done,” he said, more to convince himself than anyone else.

John B and Pope, of course, didn’t believe a word of it.

Because the truth? JJ had never been over you—not since the two of you were kids. From the first time you ran barefoot across the sand, tugging him along with your unstoppable energy, JJ’s heart had been yours. Even when life got messy—when his dad got worse, when everything else felt like too much—you were the one place that felt like home.

The Pogues knew it. You probably did, too.

Tonight was another test of JJ’s resolve. The group was scattered across the boat and dock. You, Sarah, and Kiara were curled up in hammocks, laughing softly, while JJ, John B, and Pope sat near the little fire they’d made.

JJ tried to ignore it—tried not to glance your way too often—but John B had other plans. “So, you’re really over Demetra, huh?”

JJ barely looked up. “Told you, man. Done deal.”

John B exchanged a look with Pope before smirking. “Good. So you won’t care if I ask her out, right?”

The air went still.

JJ’s head snapped up. “What?”

“You heard me,” John B said casually, enjoying himself. “I mean, she’s single now. Why not?”

JJ’s face shifted from confusion to irritation. “First of all, you don’t even like her like that. Second, she definitely doesn’t like you like that. And third—no way. Not happening.”

“Oh, I thought you didn’t care,” John B teased, grin widening.

JJ glared, running a hand through his hair, clearly flustered. “I don’t. But she’s not your type, dude. Leave it alone.”

Pope snorted, hiding his laughter. “Sure, JJ. You definitely don’t care.”

JJ didn’t respond, just looked away, jaw tight. Because no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, one thing hadn’t changed he was still the boy with heart eyes for you.