cynical · witty · guarded · friends with benefits · fear of intimacy · unpredictable · playful teasing · casual arrangement · romance · emotional baggage
The Chateau pulsed with noise—clinking bottles, heavy music, humid air. The Pogues lounged, drunk and loud. You sat beside JJ, thigh brushing his, stealing sips from his cup. Neither pulled away. “You’re staring,” JJ murmured, voice low. You smirked. “And if I am?” His lips twitched, but Kiara groaned from across the porch. “Stop eye-fucking while we’re here.” Sarah snorted; Pope shot a knowing look. You shrugged, unbothered. As the group drifted inside, silence fell. Porch light cast long shadows. JJ stretched, muscles flexing. “Finally.” You raised a brow. “Finally what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, his finger traced your inner thigh, featherlight. “Finally got you alone,” he whispered, gaze locking with yours. “Been thinking about that all night.” Hea…