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The bathroom at the old Maybank house, now officially and affectionately known as Poguelandia 2.0 was, under no uncertain terms, a complete war zone.
Six nineteen-year-olds. One bathroom.
Because somewhere in the long list of “must haves” and “nice to haves” during the renovation, deciding that three bedrooms was all they needed, a half-decent kitchen maybe, somewhere to stash surfboards and fish guts was a must, a dock for the charter and pier to the surf shop, they’d completely forgotten to factor in this.
The morning rush hour. The logistical nightmare of it all. And it was nothing less than brutal.
Typical morning in Kildare County:
John B was pounding on the door like he was trying to physically break it down, yelling something about being late to open the shop. Sarah sat cross legged in the hallway, wrapped in a towel, pouting dramatically at the door. Cleo was halfway down the hall, threatening that if JJ didn’t get out in the next ten seconds, she’d personally shut off the hot water, and everyone knew she would because she’s done it before. Pope was pacing, muttering about “shared living spaces” and “basic human decency,” which was a lost cause around here.
It was chaos. Nothing less than a loud, messy, lived in chaos. And Kiara Carrera wouldn’t trade it for anything.
She stood in front of the old mirror in the room she and JJ called theirs that still smelled faintly of salt water and paint thinner, dragging a wide tooth comb through her curls. She’d already showered. JJ always made sure she got in and out before he bolted straight in behind her.
“Ladies first,” he’d say with a mock bow and she couldn’t help the blush that bloomed on her cheeks against her will. She hated it. It was stupid and misogynistic and somehow…completely and utterly perfect. She couldn't help but smile at the thought when the bathroom door eventually swung open, a puff of steam rolling out as JJ made his way into the hallway, towel low on his hips, grin wide and unapologetic, blond hair damp and weirdly smooth, Kie noticed first thing.
“Bathroom’s free,” he announced behind him to the others as he leaned lazily against the doorframe like he hadn’t just caused a household wide meltdown.
“Finally!” Cleo barked, shoving past everyone lined up by the door. Sarah scrambled in after her, yelling something about dibs on the sink before slamming the door shut. John B and Pope were stuck outside still arguing over making a designated shower schedule and plans to upgrade to a bigger hot water heater.
Kie turned away from the mirror, eyes darting over to JJ as he flipped through their drawer for clothes before settling on his usual uniform for a work day…board shorts and one of the JJ Maybank Deep Sea Charter t-shirts he was so damn proud of. He was smug and sunburnt and soft all at once and it made her chest ache in the best way possible.
But still… something seemed different as she squinted over at him.
“What did you do to your hair?” she asked casually.
JJ tilted his head, looking over at her, a little confused. “What do you mean?”
“It’s… shiny,” she said slowly, stepping closer. “Like, creepily shiny.”
A smirk fixed on his face as he winked without hesitation. “I’m always shining, babe.”
Kie snorted. “Uh huh. Sure, Jayje.”
He grinned wider as he made his way towards her, closing the distance like he couldn't help himself. “You really think about me that much to notice my hair?”
“Please” she said, but she was already beaming, already leaning towards the familiar heat of him.
JJ’s smile softened into something slower, something sweeter as his hand slid around her waist, thumb brushing against the bare skin where her shirt had ridden up. She should’ve pushed him away, because everyone was right outside the door but that was the thing she’d learned about JJ.
About herself.
He made it so hard for her to remember why they were ever just friends. Why she’d ever locked that door in the first place? He made her realize this is what she needed all along.
It was still new, relatively speaking, this thing between them…raw and clumsy but solid too.
Some days it felt easy, like being with JJ was as simple and as a part of her as breathing. Other days it scared the hell out of her. JJ Maybank, being soft. Letting her see the parts of him that weren’t all jokes and swagger and stupid ideas. Letting her see him. It still caught her off guard, the way he loved…all heart all touch no hesitation anymore. He chose to let her in, out of all people. And having the real him, Kiara quickly realize, was almost sacred. Something so special it felt unreal at times how real it was.
But it was worth it. 100%. This thing that they shared.
Their fun, soft, sexy, rough, difficult, complex, lovely thing.
He brushed his nose against hers, his voice low and rough. “You gonna show me how good you think I look, Kie?”
She couldn’t help the roll of her eyes. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”
He laughed quietly, the sound all warm and soft in her ear. “Yeah, but I’m your pain in the ass.”
And then he kissed her, slow at first, tasting like mint and hot water and something that she couldn’t stay away from anymore. His hand slid up her back, hers fisted in the damp fabric of the towel she was desperate to rip off his hips and their kiss deepened, the heat of it heavy between them. When her knees hit the edge of the bed, he caught her with strong arms before she could fall, laughing against her mouth.
They were quick and quiet because they had to be. The walls were thin and Pope had zero chill and JJ had an early morning charter scheduled and Kiara had to tend to the garden.
She murmured something about five minutes tops and JJ pulled her closer and chuckled about being up for the challenge until she swatted his shoulder lightly, but didn’t stop kissing him.
Out in the hallway, Cleo yelled something about running out of hot water, Pope banged on the door again, and John B threatened to pee in the kitchen sink if they didn’t finish up soon. Inside their room though, it was just them. JJ soft words rambling in her ear like he always did. Kie’s fingers tangled in his still-damp hair.
It was chaos. Beautiful, noisy, barefoot chaos. Their own personal war zone. Kiara’s paradise on earth.
…
The property on Rogers Point Road wasn't fancy, it never had been, but under the Pogues touch it had come alive into something better. The half-collapsed porch now held mismatched chairs and string lights. The dock was built by scratch and even the porch railing was newly patched up by John B after JJ nearly fell through it last month. The front steps were re-painted in bright uneven strokes by the girls and Pope had rigged an old speaker system that cut out every third song but still made every night feel like a party.
Kiara’s garden, a wild sprawl of tomatoes, lettuce and “less than legal lettuce” grew alongside the house. JJ had built her a fence around it out of driftwood and old fishing nets, swearing it was “structurally sound…kind of. Well at least its organic right?”
Inside the air smelled like Sarah’s favorite lemon cleaner, and salt air and frying fish.
It was home. Their home. And every Friday night was family dinner night, a non-negotiable ritual.
This week it was JJ’s turn to cook. He stood by the counter, wearing one of John B’s shirts half un-buttoned, spatula in hand, flipping fish with a focus that didn’t quite fit his usual nature.
Pope and Cleo were at the sink, cleaning what was left of the day’s charter haul. Sarah was prepping vegetables and bossing John B around while he tried not to burn the garlic bread.
And Kiara was perched on the counter with a drink, pretending she wasn’t enjoying the view.
Domestic JJ just like Boyfriend JJ was new. Something she was still getting used to. Weird maybe. But weirdly adorable.
He’d always been the wild card, the one who would jump off the dock first, pick a fight, start a fire. He had the survival instincts of a cockroach, living off nothing but stolen deodorant and moldy peanut butter sandwiches. She’d never actually stepped foot in his house until they bought it at auction because she knew it embarrassed him, how messy and run down and unkempt it had been.
But ever since they’d settled in, something in him shifted. He still had the same JJ Maybank energy that she loved but now he used it for good…mostly.
It surprised her every time he did the dishes without being asked. He folded laundry…her laundry…and actually matched socks and folded her underwear. He patched leaks in the roof and painted the trim a green color she picked out with a tiny little paint brush. He remembered grocery lists…hell he made the freaking grocery lists.Sometimes, when she caught him humming while he swept sand out of the hallway or fixed a loose handle on their dresser, it made her warm in this soft, terrifying way she loved.
It was a little unsettling, honestly. But also kind of hot.
She tried not to think too hard about that part of it at the moment, sipping her drink instead, but it was hard to ignore when JJ turned around, smiling at her, spatula still in hand, and said, “Hey gorgeous, you gonna just sit there looking hot or are you actually gonna help out anytime soon?”
Kie smirked. “Looking hots a full time job, Jayje.”
“Lucky me,” he said with a wink before turning back to the pain.
So yeah… Domestic JJ, Relationship JJ was dangerous, a fire running straight through her veins.
Sarah wiped her hands on a towel, squinting towards the stove at them interrupting the moment. “JJ you realize fish doesn’t need to be incinerated, right?”
“I’m searing it,” he replied defensively, looking down at the pan.
John B looked over, “You’re literally smoking it, man. That’s a bonfire.”
Cleo wrinkled her nose. “I can smell burnt ocean.”
JJ scowled but turned down the heat, muttering something about “no faith” as Kiara slid off the counter and wandered closer, just to mess with him.
“You sure you know what you’re doing, Chef Maybank?” she asked, leaning against his shoulder.
He glanced at her, that lazy smirk tugging at his mouth. “You doubting me, Carrera?”
“Enthusiastically.”
He laughed, bumping her hip with his. “You wound me.”
She smirked. “Not yet. But if you ruin dinner…I might.”
“Nah… you’ll still eat it, cause it’s made with love,” he said, grinning so wide she had to look away. God he was helpless…or maybe she was, so she leaned in and kissed him right there in the middle of the kitchen.
“Bro!” John B groaned, “yall are not allowed to do that near our food anymore.”
JJ threw up his hands in surrender, passing him the spatula. “Fine, fine. I’ll just be over here looking pretty, then.”
Cleo snorted. “Pretty is one word for it. Rude Boy, what happened to your hair?”
JJ blinked. “What?”
Everyone turned.
It was noticeable. His usually sun-blond, soft-blown surfer hair was now a bizarre mix of frizzy and slick.
Sarah squinted up at him. “You look like you stuck your head in a grease fryer.”
“Yeah,” Pope said, trying not to laugh. “It’s like...crunchy and greasy. That’s impressive, dude.”
JJ frowned, running a hand through it and immediately grimaced when his fingers came out shiny. “What the hell? It wasn’t like this this morning.”
“Hair doesn’t just turn on you, JJ,’” John B said. “That’s not a thing.”
JJ scowled. “Then what is it? Because I showered and everything.”
“Oh we know,” Pope snapped.
Sarah turned from the stove, hiding a smirk. “It’s greasy, JJ. Did you rinse it? Like, actually rinse it? With water?”
JJ frowned like he was offended. “Of course I rinsed it. I’m not an animal.”
John B snorted. “Debatable.”
JJ flipped him off. “Maybe it’s just growing in different.”
Pope raised both brows. “That’s so not a thing.”
“Sure it is!” JJ said. “I’m a growing boy…it's like hormones hit or whatever and your hair just… changes?”
“JJ,” Sarah said flatly, “you’re nineteen I think you’re done with puberty.”
“Then what is it?” he echoed, appalled and panicked.
Kie bit her lip, trying not to laugh at his stress. “It’s definitely something, babe.”
He turned to her. “Babe? You too? Thought you liked running your fingers through it.”
“I do,” she teased, reaching up to ruffle it and instantly regretted at how weirdly soft and oily it felt. “Just… maybe not today.”
He gasped dramatically. “You’re abandoning me in my hour of need.”
Cleo smirked. “You could always ask Sarah for hair advice.”
JJ shot her a look. “Yeah, okay, bottle blonde.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow in threat. “Excuse me?”
“We all saw those roots on the island, princess,” he gestured at his own head proudly. “This, on the other hand, is all natural, baby. Sun kissed by God himself.”
John B jumped up, “You do not get to speak about her hair if you don’t share the salon bill, dude.”
JJ grinned, leaning back against the counter. “You’re all just jealous.”
Sarah deadpanned “Of what? The hair grease or your delusion?”
“Both,” JJ said proudly.
Laughter filled the kitchen, real and easy. They’d been there for each other through it all, hurricanes, gunfire, and way too many bad ideas but somehow they managed to end up here. Barefoot in their kitchen, teasing each other over burnt fish and bad hair.
They were family.
Kiara leaned into JJ’s side, her hand slipping to his waist without having to think about it.
He dropped an arm around her shoulders like it was second nature.
“Hey,” she murmured just for him. “You’re still cute. Even with tragic hair.”
He grinned, eyes crinkling. “Yeah? You’d still do me?”
She couldn’t help but laugh, “Maybe after you shower.”
He smirked, leaning close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath against her ear. “Maybe you should join me. Make sure I rinse it this time.”
Her cheeks went pink right away. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you.”
JJ grinned, all teeth and trouble. “Damn right I would.”
“Ew, seriously?” Sarah groaned, reaching for a plate. “Can we not?"
JJ just laughed, that lazy, sunburnt sound of his, and shot her a wink. “What? I’m just sayin’.”
For a second, everything else, the smoke from the grill, the shouting, the salt in the air, faded out. It was just him, that crooked smile, that stupid blond hair catching the light.
He pressed a quick kiss to her temple and turned toward the others. “Alright, fam,” he called, hands clapping together, “let’s eat.”
…
Eventually the house had quieted down and the sun set and bled into the softer kind of evening that usually came after a full day. John B and Sarah walked hand in hand down to the water. Pope and Cleo were laid up together in the hammock outside on the porch. Alone in their room, JJ stretched out across the bed, exhausted, one arm thrown over his eyes, his hair still a weird mix of shiny and wild sticking up in every direction.
Kie stood by the dresser, pulling her hair into a loose bun, shaking her head at him.
“Seriously, JJ. Go shower. You’re going to stain our pillowcases.”
He peeked at her from under his arm, smirk pulling at his lips. “Idea…” he said, voice dropping just enough to make her roll her eyes, “We could save water and shower together?”
“Yeah, no.” She crossed her arms, pretending not to smile. “You reek of fish and smoke and whatever the hell is happening on the top of your head.”
He sat up, lazy grin spreading across his face as he leaned in. “So that’s a no on saving the planet?”
She fought a laugh. “I think the world will survive one more rinse cycle, babe. I’ll let it slide this time.”
JJ hummed like he was seriously considering staying put anyway, then reached out to pull her in. “You’re too good to me.”
She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t move away. “I know I am.”
“I like the confidence, dude,” he said and kissed her in a way that was soft and unhurried as his hand found the back of her neck with that instinctive ease that still sent a pulse through her. But then when he finally pulled back, she caught a whiff of something sweet, citrusy, coconut, warm and frowned for half a second before he grinned again and backed toward the door.
“You better wait up for me. I’ll make it quick.”
She smiled, shaking her head as he disappeared down the hall. By the time the shower started running, she was pulling on one of his t-shirts and gathering her skincare stuff. But the thought nagged at her…what was that smell. It was familiar…but not from JJ. Her eyes lifted toward the closed bathroom door out in the hallway, steam already rolling out from underneath and it dawned on her all at once.
No. Freaking. Way.
She blinked, then brought a strand of her own hair to her face and inhaled, it was faint from her own shower that morning, but there. That same scent. The one that had clung to his hair just seconds ago.
“Oh my god,” she murmured, half laughing as realization hit. “That little sneak.”
Because of course he would.
Of course JJ Maybank, certified menace, self proclaimed minimalist, couldn’t tell a shampoo bar from body wash was using her very expensive, organic, sustainable, very unique for her specific style of curl (because of course her black dad would fall for her curly haired irish mom giving her a double whammy of frizz) hair products.
She flopped onto the bed, smiling into the pillow. “He’s lucky he’s cute,” she muttered, imagining him in the shower right now, probably singing to himself and thinking he’d gotten away with it.
He hadn’t. Not even close. Kiara made her way to the bathroom. Steam fogged up the cracked bathroom mirror, curling out into the hallway as Kiara pushed the door open. It wasn’t even locked.
“JJ!” she called, stepping inside, loud enough over the sound of the water running and JJ singing to himself.
The curtain yanked back just enough for his head to pop out, water dripping down his face. He looked startled for a second, then smiled big like he’d been expecting her all along.
“Oh hey,” he said, smug as ever. “You here to take me up on that offer? Cause I’m not complaining, baby.”
“Don’t ‘baby’ me, Maybank.”
Her eyes dropped to the shower caddy and there it was. Her shampoo bar. Way smaller than she’d last seen it. .
“Oh my god…” she started, disbelief cracking into a laugh, “you really have been using my shampoo!”
JJ blinked at her, then smirked. “What’s yours is mine, babe.”
She pointed at him, trying not to laugh. “No fucking way, JJ. That’s why your hair looks like it’s fighting for its life!”
He frowned, eyebrows burrowing like it hadn’t even occurred to him until now that is what was happening. “But it makes yours all soft and good smelling, though.”
“Yeah,” she said, stepping closer, “because it’s for me. My hair texture isn’t like yours. I’ve got a mix of my dad’s curls and my mom’s frizz.”
“What the hell are you saying?” he laughed out.
“You...” she snapped, getting close enough to poke his chest “...are a white boy, JJ. You have white boy hair.”
He blinked at her, then let out a defeated, “Awe, damn. For real?”
“For real.” She grinned. “So you’re done using my stuff.”
He held up his hands. “Fine, fine. No more fancy eco hair bars.”
She softened, shaking her head. “I’ll get you your own, okay?”
His face lit up like a kid at Christmas. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
There was a beat, like he was deep in thought before that lazy grin came back, his eyes flicking over her with a spark. “So…” he said, water dripping off his hair, “you getting in here or what?”
She bit back a smile. “Of course I am.”
A second later, her shirt hit the floor, then her sleep shorts. JJ laughed as she stepped in, pulling her under the water. He kissed her, warm and wet and messy, and she kissed him back, fingers tangling in his hair despite herself.
It was perfect.
For about ten seconds until the knocking started.
“Are you two down in there yet?” Sarah’s voice cut through the door. “I have to pee!!”
JJ broke away, resting his forehead against Kie’s as he burst out laughing.
“Seriously?” John B yelled. “Get a room! Like one that isn’t our shared bathroom!”
“Hot water isn't free!” Pope added. “We got bills, your guys!”
Cleo’s voice chimed in. “They are seriously at it again?! There are more lucrative places to be doing that, you know!”
Kie groaned, laughing helplessly into JJ’s shoulder as he tried to hide his own giggle.
“This place is chaos” he whispered against her ear. “A damn war zone.”
She smiled, still breathless against his chest.
“Paradise on earth.”