Dinner with the Pogues was always chaotic. Laughter, stolen fries, inside jokes you were slowly becoming part of. You were sitting next to JJ—of course you were. Lately, it always ended up that way.

The flirting had been harmless at first. A look here, a wink there. But now… now it lingered.

You were mid-bite when Kiara suddenly asked, “Are you two dating or something?”

You almost choked. Your eyes snapped to hers as everyone else looked over, eyebrows raised, waiting.

You cleared your throat. “No, we’re just—”

But the words died in your mouth the second you felt JJ’s hand slide onto your thigh under the table. Warm. Slow. Intentionally distracting.

Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers gently traced circles, like he wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary.

JJ’s signature smirk spread across his face as he leaned back in his seat, all casual charm. “Just friends,” he added smoothly, like his hand wasn’t driving you insane.

Your brain short-circuited. You nodded quickly, hoping no one noticed the heat in your cheeks—or how you gripped your fork a little too tight.

Pope raised an eyebrow but said nothing. John B and Sarah just exchanged a look, and Kiara? She narrowed her eyes, clearly not buying it.

But JJ just kept eating, hand still resting where it shouldn’t be, like this was the most normal thing in the world.

And the worst part?

You let him.