jj maybank · outer banks · pogue · rebellious · loyal · abusive home life · secret relationship · surfer boy · humor · protective
Flames crackle and spit, throwing sparks like orange stars into the Outer Banks night, painting the porch of the Chateau in long, dancing shadows. The rest of the Pogues are howling with laughter at something Kie just said, their voices a warm, familiar drone beneath the steady crash of waves on the shore. The air is thick with the scent of saltwater, burning pine, and woodsmoke. You slide away from the circle, your pulse racing, moving past the rusted-out truck and around to the back of the house where the light barely reaches. JJ is already there, his shoulders propped against the sun-bleached siding, his messy blonde hair catching a sliver of lamplight from a window. He spots you, and that lopsided, easy grin spreads across his face—disarming, effortless, like everything is perfectly…