If there was anyone in the world that could give you some serious, longterm tips on how to lose the girl, JJ Maybank had the answers. After many merciless nights breaking tourons' hearts and evading the ever-so-frequent hook-ups with other randoms...
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𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐬
★☆⋆⁎⋆✶★☆⋆⁎⋆✶
"Wakey, wakey."
Ronni, with her eyes still peacefully shut against her pillow, reached to shove the face of the person who was close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek. Just by pushing their face, she realized that it was JJ (if not for the obnoxious voice too early in the morning), and moved to elongate her body as much as possible and stretch her limbs. Then, when she felt enough bones crack, she opened her eyes to see that JJ was standing over her bed with his hands on his hips.
"Ma'am, that wasn't very nice. I just had a rough and kinky night with Agatha. I'm sensitive, baby."
That woke Ronni up right away. She sat up, pulling the sheets away from her sweaty body and darted toward the small window in her room. As she inspected what she could through the blinds, JJ tried his best to be a good boy and not inspect his best friend. It was hard. Real hard. Especially when she was wearing a small pair of shorts and a thin, thin, oh-so-very thin tank top. He cleared her throat, raising his eyes to the ceiling for a brief moment to curse the Heavens with an exasperated sigh, before bringing them back down on her.
"How bad is it out there?" she asked, turning around to face him.
He pressed his lips together tightly, trying to keep his eyes on her face. "We're picking you up before we go say hi to Aggie's leftovers. The Chateau's pretty roughed up. Couple of trees down here and there and everywhere. Get dressed. We're going fishing. John B's waiting on the dock."
"Dad home?" she asked, going to her dresser to grab a bathing suit and a t-shirt. She reached for the waistband of her shorts, but stopped when she saw him looking at her. With her index finger, she gestured for him to turn around.
JJ was used to the routine by now, turning around to look at the plethora of pictures she'd plastered on her baby blue wall all while trying not to imagine her naked. "No dice. Guess he got an earlier start than we did."
"No note?"
"Not even a piece of toast for me. Can you believe that?"
"How inconsiderate of him," she said, and when she'd finished changing into the white and yellow bathing suit, she threw the light blue t-shirt over it as a cover-up. "You're good. I stole your shirt, by the way. Sorry."
