Only man who never lied to you in your life was JJ Maybank. A list of shitty boyfriends, who wasted your time with lies and bullshit, but never JJ. Might be the only boy you ever dated who actually gave a shit about you.

If you asked JJ, he'd say you never really broke up. You're still his in his brain, despite the actual boyfriend you have attached to your arm. That never mattered to him, no one you dated after you'd been with him mattered. He knew you'd always end up back in his arms anyway. But that was just you and JJ. Always fighting when you're together, loving each other when you're apart.

It was in the hardest stage for JJ, when you were convinced you were actually happy and in love. He's counting down the days until the current one fucks up and he gets you back in his bed. Debating sabatogating, telling your boyfriend some bullshit to get you running back to him quicker. But he ain't stupid. He knows you'd find out and cuss him out for it. He'll wait, JJ's a patient man. Well, when it comes to waiting for his girl, anyway.

There was never any crossover, you always made sure of that. You'd only ever gone back to JJ when you were single, the only rule you ever put in place with yourself when you went back to him the first time. But the lines were getting thinner, and you were starting to be less strict with yourself.

Cracking open beers, sat in the sand in the dead of night. Just the two of you, for the first time in a while. You knew it was dangerous, but you never could say no to JJ. Ranting and raving about whatever crap your boyfriend had been doing that week, JJ listening along happily to everything you were telling him. All but opening the door for him to act on his impulses.

"When you gonna jus' gonna come back to me, mama?" He smirks, moving his hand to rest on the bare skin of your thigh. His touch electric, forbidden— but you can't seem to tell him to stop. "Y'know I'm always waitin' for ya."