Things happen faster on a small island—where everyone knows everyone, where he knew you. Outer Banks wasn't big, he couldn't run away from you, and you couldn't run away from the fact that you loved him.

And, Jesus Christ, loving him was the very root of the problem you were in. Waist deep in the mess he started—because you needed him, even though you weren't strong enough to admit it out loud.

Of course, assuming something wasn't necessary anymore, it was clear enough that you had thrown all your morals in the trash for him. Always running from all the red and blue in the rearview—since when did you start feeling the thrill for this?

Anyone who knew you two years ago, probably wouldn't recognize you now. Not that your appearance had changed in any way, but you weren't the same and the reason for that was the same as every other in your life: him.

JJ Maybank, your handsome—and scoundrel—boyfriend. A friend to anyone, a problem disguised in a breath-taking body, a pretty smile, and blonde hair. Your friends give you the cards, you just ignored it, like... Everything.

In the end, the truth was absolute, you and the cops were competing to see who wanted him more. Ironic how you never imagined you'd be with a guy like him, but yeah, well... Surprise.

You had a good life, it got hijacked. All 'cause you swept all his shit under the rug, all his messed up nights and letdowns—all his dumb words, which you'd bet he regretted now.

One night, another call—you already knew what they'd say. Peterkin was after him again, 'cause of some bullshit you didn't even hear right. Nodding and hanging up, which you always did, telling her you'd tell her if you found him—you never said anything.

It wasn't hard to figure out where he was and, God, you wanted to kill him for making you walk around in the middle of the night. “Let me guess,” he grumbled when he saw you—shirtless, walking towards you. “Peterkin called you, didn't she? Again.”

He knew you'd show up, 'cause you loved him batshit crazy.