Last First Kiss | JJ Maybank OBX

1. Home Sweet Home

~ Present time ~

It had just turned noon when I arrived at the Chateau. I got my bags from the Uber before looking around; it looked the same as it did the day I left. Messy front porch, branches everywhere, the boat by the dock. It felt surreal to be home, in the best and weirdest way. There was nothing in the driveway, so I assumed I was home alone. I made my way up to the porch to look for the hidden key to the front door.

"Under the doormat. Typical" I whispered to myself. I opened the door and dragged my bags inside. Looking around the living room, it felt like nothing had changed. Beer bottles, fast food bags, "is that... a condom?" I asked to myself, shaking in disgust and deciding to continue walking through the house to my room. When I opened my bedroom door, I was met with the sight of a shirtless blonde boy asleep in my bed.

"Um excuse me this is my house! Please get out!" I yell, terrified of the stranger. He quickly jolts up, rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes when I realize the stranger isn't a stranger. "Wait—JJ? Maybank? What the hell are you doing in my bed?"

He stops rubbing his eyes to look at me, and he starts smirking. "You could join me if you'd like" he adds a wink at the end, not moving from the bed. I roll my eyes and pull the blankets off him, urging him to get up and explain.

"I've been staying here for a while. Long time no see, Livvy" he says, standing up and putting on a shirt.

"I missed seeing your ugly face, Jay" I joke, going to hug him. JJ hugs are one of a kind. He's a big teddy bear, really. A teddy bear with nice abs. Wait... when did he get abs?

"You love this face. You're even more gorgeous than you were 4 years ago" I roll my eyes at the flirty boy.

"I like to think I had a minor glow up. You got tall. And muscular. And you have a lot of hair now" I say, messing with his hair to prove my point.

"You like? I've been growing this shit out for years to catch up with JB" JJ replies, completely serious about the hair.

"So you've been staying here? Are things still bad at home?" I asked, changing the subject. I noticed an instant shift in his mood. He clenched his jaw, looked away for a second, then looked back at me.

"Better than they used to be. A couple of years ago I almost killed my dad. But it's all good now. I can handle it. I just crash here sometimes to get some air" he confessed, but I could tell there was more to the story than he was letting on.

JJ has never been one to confess his feelings or show his true emotions. He locks any feelings he has with a heavy lock and throws the key in the ocean. I've always tried to get him to open up with me. I try and make him feel comfortable enough to be vulnerable with me, and sometimes, very rarely, it pays off.

Growing up, he was John B's best friend on paper. But when he would come over to the Chateau and John B would go off to do something, JJ and I would talk. I considered him one of my best friends despite the lack of time we spent together. It was hard to spend more than a few minutes together because John B got protective of me. He made a rule when he first introduced JJ and I to each other that there was to be no flirting, touching, or hanging out unless someone else was there. I was designated an off-limit commodity to JJ and any other male friend of John B's. JJ took the rule very seriously; he didn't want to ever get on John B's bad side for making a move on me. Despite the rule, there were times JJ would come over at night to get away from his dad and we would talk. I've always been a light sleeper, so I would hear him come into the house and I'd go out to see him. I'd watch him get comfy on the couch before sitting down and talking with him. Sometimes we would talk about dumb things John B has done, other times we would talk about his abusive dad or my absent mom. Those talks brought us close, and I considered him one of my best friends just as much as John B did. No one knew the things we told each other, they were strictly between us. When I left for New York, saying goodbye to him was one of the hardest things I've had to do. He helped me load my bags into the car, and neither of us wanted to say the word 'goodbye'. Instead, we just hugged for what seemed like hours. I was crying, and he was holding himself together because he knew if he cried, I wouldn't be able to leave. I think deep down he knew I needed to go get some answers, even if it meant I wasn't coming back for a while. He understood more than anyone. If he could do anything to be with his mother again, he would.