Content warnings:
Romantic tension/ Jealousy/ Underage drinking/ Near kiss/ Kissing/
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
The path back to Cuddledown was louder than it should’ve been.
Wet footsteps on wood.
Mirren laughing too hard at something Gat said.
Johnny and Gat arguing over rules that changed every single time they played chicken.
By the time the house came into view through the trees, everyone had mostly dissolved into tiredness and saltwater and late-afternoon heat.
Cadence stopped in the path first.
“Everyone shower before movie night,” she said without turning around. “You all smell like seawater and bad decisions.”
“Mostly them,” Gat said immediately, pointing at Johnny and Y/n.
Johnny barely looked at him. “You lost. Your opinion means nothing.”
“That is not how winning works.”
“That sounds like something a loser would say,” Y/n added.
Gat stared at both of them. “You’re insufferable together.”
Mirren snorted.
The arguing carried across the lawn until the paths between houses split them apart.
Cadence and Mirren headed toward Windemere still debating the movie. Gat disappeared toward Red Gate complaining that Cadence was absolutely going to pick something “slow and emotionally devastating on purpose.”
Johnny followed a few steps behind him before glancing back once.
Just once.
Then he disappeared into the trees too.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Cuddledown felt different after everyone left.
Quieter.
No liars
No slamming doors
The screen door creaked shut behind Y/n as she stepped inside, and suddenly all she could hear was the distant crash of waves somewhere below the cliffs.
Upstairs, she showered quickly, washing salt and sand from her skin before pulling on an oversized t-shirt and the same worn sleep shorts she always wore during movie nights on the island.
By the time she came back downstairs, towel rubbing through damp hair, she stopped halfway down the staircase.
Johnny was already there.
He stood in the middle of the living room with a blanket thrown over one shoulder and a bowl of popcorn balanced in one hand like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.
Y/n blinked.
“You’re back already?”
Johnny looked up.
Then immediately narrowed his eyes.
“That’s my shirt.”
She glanced down lazily. “It’s a shirt.”
“It’s my shirt.”
“You left it here.”
Johnny stared at her another second like this was somehow still her fault.
Then he held up the popcorn instead.
“You were taking too long.”
Y/n smiled a little despite herself and walked the rest of the way downstairs.
Together, they finished setting up the living room the way they always did.
Blankets everywhere. Pillows thrown onto the floor. Snacks scattered across the coffee table like nobody planned on cleaning any of it up later.
Johnny dragged cushions off the couch while Y/n stole popcorn from the bowl every time she passed him.
The third time she did it, he caught her wrist.
“Seriously?”
She looked up automatically.
And realized he was closer than she expected.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Johnny’s fingers loosened first.
“Get your own,” he muttered.
“Make me.”
His mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
By the time they finished, the room looked like every movie night they’d ever had on the island.
Except somehow, it didn't feel like every other movie night.
They ended up on the smaller couch off to the side while they waited for the others.
Close enough that their knees brushed whenever either of them shifted.
Johnny tossed popcorn into his mouth without looking away from the screen saver bouncing across the TV.
“You almost drowned Gat earlier.”
Y/n looked offended. “I absolutely did not.”
“You shoved him off his own team.”
“He was losing balance. I assisted.”
Johnny laughed quietly.
“You’re actually the worst.”
“You’re just mad I carried us.”
That finally got his attention.
Johnny turned toward her slightly, arm stretched along the back of the couch.
“You carried us?”
“I was the one knocking Cady off. You just happened to be underneath me.”
He stared at her for a second.
Then shook his head slowly.
“That’s insane. You were holding on for your life.”
Her face warmed instantly.
“I was not.”
Johnny grinned—easy and familiar, but it caught her off guard anyway.
“You were digging your nails into my shoulders.”
Y/n grabbed the nearest pillow and hit him with it.
Johnny caught it easily, laughing under his breath.
“That was self-defense,” she said.
“Sure.”
“You almost dropped me.”
His expression shifted slightly then.
Not joking anymore.
“I wasn’t going to.”
The room went quieter after that.
Not because of what he said.
Because of how he said it.
Y/n looked at him.
Johnny had already looked away again, attention dropping back to the popcorn in his lap like the moment hadn’t happened at all.
"I know," she said softly.
Johnny set the popcorn down...
When he leaned back again, his shoulder pressed lightly into hers.
Neither of them moved away.
Y/n tucked her legs closer beneath her, blanket shifting around her knees.
Johnny’s hand rested against the couch cushion beside her.
Close enough that if either of them moved even slightly—
Footsteps sounded outside.
Voices.
The screen door slammed open.
Both of them pulled apart instinctively.
Johnny grabbed the popcorn bowl off the floor at the exact same time Y/n reached for the blanket beside her.
By the time the others walked in, they already looked normal again.
Or close enough to it.
Cadence glanced between them once.
Johnny pointed immediately at Gat.
“I’m telling you, he blamed the tide because he lost.”
“I did not,” Gat said.
“You literally did,” Y/n added casually.
Mirren dropped onto the floor cushions. “Honestly that sounds believable.”
Gat pointed at them accusingly. “You’re both lying.”
“No,” Johnny said. “We’re collaborating.”
That got a laugh out of Mirren.
Cadence’s eyes lingered a second longer than everyone else’s.
But there was nothing obvious to catch.
Just Johnny shoving the popcorn toward Y/n without looking at her.
Just Y/n taking it like she always did.
Nothing different.
Nothing dangerous.
Not unless you looked too closely.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Movie night started the way it always did.
Gat complaining within the first five minutes.
Mirren throwing popcorn at him.
Cadence defending the movie like it was personally offensive not to appreciate it.
And somewhere in the middle of all of it, the room slowly softened into late-night quiet.
The movie kept playing.
Nobody really watched it.
Johnny stayed beside Y/n on the couch, shoulder pressed lightly against hers beneath the blanket.
Easy.
Natural.
Too natural.
At some point his arm settled along the back of the couch behind her.
At some point she stopped noticing where her shoulder ended and his began.
The movie turned quieter onscreen.
Dialogue softer now.
More serious.
Gat groaned dramatically from the floor.
“If they stare at each other one more time, I’m leaving.”
“You’re not leaving,” Cadence said.
“I could.”
“You literally live here.”
Johnny leaned slightly closer to Y/n without taking his eyes off the screen.
"…You're not even watching it."
Y/n smiled without looking away.
"Neither are you."
Johnny glanced at her.
She'd caught him.
Again.
It was becoming a habit.
He looked back at the screen.
"...Fair."
She laughed quietly.
Really laughed.
Johnny looked at her for half a second.
Not long.
Just enough.
Then he looked away again like it hadn’t mattered.
But his hand tightened slightly around the popcorn bowl anyway.
Across the room, Cadence noticed.
She didn’t say anything.
The night blurred after that.
Mirren curled beneath a blanket first.
Then Gat stretched across the floor insisting he was “just resting his eyes.”
Cadence lasted the longest before eventually leaning back against the couch cushions, arms folded loosely, eyes slipping shut during the middle of a scene she’d probably spent twenty minutes defending earlier.
Eventually the only sound left was the movie itself.
Soft dialogue.
Ocean outside.
The occasional creak of old wood settling in the walls.
Y/n’s eyes slipped shut for a second too long.
Beside her, Johnny shifted slightly closer.
"Still with us?"
Y/n smiled without opening her eyes.
"Maybe."
He laughed quietly.
"That's a no."
She nudged his shoulder with hers.
Barely enough to feel.
"Shut up."
The room settled into silence again.
Heavy with sleep.
Heavy with everything left unsaid.
Y/n's eyes slipped shut for a second too long.
Her head tipped sideways before she realized what was happening.
It landed lightly against Johnny's shoulder.
Johnny went still.
Not tense.
Just careful.
He glanced down at her.
"Comfortable?"
"...Mhm."
"Thought so."
A few seconds passed.
"Don't move," she mumbled sleepily.
Johnny smiled to himself.
"Wasn't planning on it."
She never answered.
She was already asleep.
Johnny stayed exactly where he was so she wouldn’t have to move.
At some point Johnny set the popcorn on the coffee table without thinking about it.
At some point the movie became background noise.
At some point everyone in the room drifted asleep.
Cadence.
Mirren.
Gat.
Then them too.
The television kept flickering soft blue light across the room long after nobody was awake enough to see it.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
The party happened a few nights later.
A boat anchored just far enough from shore that Beachwood blurred into gold streaks against the dark water.
Music shook through the deck hard enough to feel through the floorboards.
Everything smelled like saltwater and alcohol and summer heat.
The night started easily.
Mirren grabbed Y/n's hand almost as soon as they stepped aboard.
"Come on."
Before Y/n could protest, Mirren had already pulled her toward the music.
Cadence wandered toward the railing instead, leaning against it as she watched the black water roll beneath the boat.
Johnny and Gat claimed one of the high tables near the drinks.
For a while, everything felt familiar.
The kind of summer night Beachwood seemed to specialize in.
Music.
Laughter.
Salt in the air.
Then, as always—
Gat found someone to argue with.
"I am telling you," Gat said, already pointing at someone across the deck, "that's objectively wrong."
Johnny laughed.
"You've known him thirty seconds."
"I don't need longer."
The stranger laughed.
"Oh, we're settling this."
Within moments, Gat had disappeared into a loud debate with three people he'd never met before.
Johnny shook his head, taking another sip from the cup in his hand.
Across the deck, Mirren leaned close enough for Y/n to hear her.
"I'm getting another drink."
Y/n nodded.
"I'll still be here."
Mirren smiled once before weaving back through the crowd.
For a few seconds, Y/n had the dance floor to herself.
She laughed quietly when someone bumped into her shoulder, mouthing a quick sorry before spinning back toward the music.
She wasn't really dancing with anyone.
Just letting the music carry her, arms swaying lazily as the boat rocked beneath her feet.
Johnny found himself watching without meaning to.
There was something easy about her.
Like she belonged here.
On the water.
Under the lights.
Smiling like summer had never been anything but kind.
Then someone stepped into the empty space beside her.
Tall.
Older.
Comfortable enough to start a conversation without hesitation.
Johnny noticed almost immediately.
At first, he didn't think much of it.
People talked to Y/n all the time.
She was easy to talk to.
Easy to laugh with.
He looked away.
Finished another sip of his drink.
Then looked back.
The guy was still there.
Saying something that made Y/n smile.
Not a huge smile.
Just the small one that always reached her eyes first.
Johnny had seen that smile a thousand times.
Across bonfires.
On the beach.
Late at night when the rest of them couldn't stop laughing long enough to go to sleep.
For some reason...
Seeing someone else earn it didn't feel right.
He looked away again.
One.
Two.
Three.
She'd probably never see the guy again after tonight.
So why did it suddenly matter?
He lasted all of three seconds.
Then he looked back anyway.
The guy had stepped closer so she could hear him over the music.
Johnny hated how quickly he'd looked back.
A few minutes later, Gat wandered back to the table, still grinning to himself.
"I won."
Johnny didn't answer.
Gat frowned.
"...Earth to Sinclair."
Johnny blinked.
"What?"
"I said I won."
Johnny glanced back at him for half a second.
"Congratulations."
His eyes were already drifting back across the deck.
Mirren returned a second later, drink in hand.
She started to say something—
Then noticed Johnny wasn't listening.
She followed his gaze across the deck.
Her eyes landed on Y/n.
Then the guy beside her.
A slow smile spread across her face.
"...Well."
Cadence drifted over from the railing, resting her elbows against the table.
"What?"
Mirren tipped her head toward the dance floor.
Cadence looked.
She immediately found Y/n.
Then the guy standing beside her.
Then Johnny.
Her eyebrows lifted just slightly.
Gat looked between the three of them.
"What?"
Neither girl answered.
Gat sighed dramatically before following Johnny's line of sight himself.
He found Y/n.
Found the stranger beside her.
Then looked back at Johnny.
"...Oh."
Mirren let out a quiet laugh.
"See it now?"
"Oh, I see it."
Johnny still hadn't moved.
Had barely blinked.
His eyes hadn't left Y/n once.
Mirren smiled into her drink.
"He's really trying to pretend this doesn't bother him."
Cadence shook her head.
"No."
She watched Johnny for another second.
"He's not pretending anymore."
Johnny finally looked away.
Only because he realized they were all staring at him.
"What?"
Mirren smiled innocently.
"What?"
Johnny repeated.
"Nothing," she said.
"Nothing at all."
He narrowed his eyes.
"You all look weird."
"We're not the ones staring across the boat," Gat said.
Johnny frowned.
"I wasn't—"
"You've looked over there at least six times," Mirren interrupted.
"Seven," Cadence corrected quietly.
Johnny looked from one of them to the next.
"...Have you all been watching me?"
Mirren smiled.
"Hard not to."
Gat laughed.
"You weren't exactly subtle."
Johnny opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
Across the deck—
The guy laughed.
Y/n laughed too.
Johnny didn't move.
The guy kept talking.
Y/n laughed.
Johnny immediately put his cup down.
Mirren watches him.
"Three…"
Gat looks at her.
"…Two…"
Johnny starts walking.
Cadence smiles.
"…One."
Johnny crossed the last few steps before he could talk himself out of it.
He slowed as he reached them, catching the end of whatever story the guy had been telling.
Y/n looked over first.
The second she saw Johnny, her expression softened.
"Johnny."
He nodded once.
"Hey."
The guy glanced between them.
"Friend of yours?"
Y/n smiled without hesitation.
"My best friend."
Johnny smiled automatically.
It should've felt the way it always had.
Somehow...
It didn't.
"I'm Mason," the guy said, offering Johnny a hand.
Johnny shook it.
"Johnny."
"You guys grew up together?"
"Pretty much," Y/n answered.
"Our families spend every summer out here."
"That's actually really cool," Mason said.
Johnny nodded.
"Yeah."
The conversation stumbled along for another minute.
Mostly because Johnny wasn't saying much.
Y/n kept glancing at him between sentences.
She knew him too well not to notice.
Something was off.
Mason looked between the two of them.
Then smiled.
"Well..."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I'm gonna grab another drink."
He looked at Y/n.
"It was nice meeting you."
"You too."
He nodded toward Johnny.
"See you around."
Johnny returned the nod.
"Yeah."
The music filled the silence for a few seconds.
Y/n looked at him.
"Okay."
Johnny blinked.
"Okay?"
She folded her arms.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Johnny."
"Seriously," he said, a little too quickly.
"You've been acting weird."
"I literally just walked over here."
"Exactly."
"Exactly?" Johnny asked, frowning.
"You walked over here."
"So..."
He looked toward the crowd where Mason had disappeared.
"Who was that?"
Y/n shrugged.
"I don't know."
Johnny looked back at her.
"...You don't know?"
"No."
"Then why were you talking to him?"
She laughed.
"Because he started talking to me."
Then...
Y/n studies him.
Just for a second.
Then smiles.
"Are you jealous?"
Silence.
Johnny stares.
"No."
Too fast.
Y/n's smile only grew.
"Mm-hmm."
"I'm not."
Johnny looked away, shaking his head.
"You make friends with literally everyone."
Y/n laughs.
That same laugh.
The one that bothered him five minutes ago.
Only this time...
He was the reason.
He smiled despite himself.
Somehow, without either of them deciding it...
They spent the rest of the night together.
When the party finally began to wind down, neither of them noticed how late it had gotten.
Johnny looked at her.
This time...
He didn't look away.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
By the time everyone climbed onto the Sinclair boat, the music from the party had faded into little more than a distant thump across the water.
Nobody talked much.
Gat stretched out across one of the benches.
Mirren leaned against the side of the boat with her eyes half closed.
Cadence watched the dark water drift past in silence as she drove.
Y/n stood near the railing.
Johnny wandered over after a minute.
Neither of them spoke.
They didn't need to.
The Sinclair boat bumped gently against the dock.
One by one, everyone climbed out.
Like they always did, everyone split off without really thinking about it.
Cadence and Gat disappeared ahead.
Mirren yawned, waving over her shoulder as she headed toward Cuddledown.
Y/n started after them.
“Hey.”
She turned back.
Johnny hesitated briefly before speaking again.
“Walk with me.”
It wasn’t really a question.
Y/n nodded once anyway.
The path back to Cuddledown was quiet except for the sound of waves somewhere below the cliffs.
They walked in silence for another minute.
Y/n glanced over at him.
"You know..."
Johnny looked up.
"What?"
A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
"I wasn't actually serious."
He frowned.
"About what?"
"Asking if you were jealous."
Johnny let out one quiet laugh.
Mostly at himself.
"...I know."
Silence settled between them again.
After a while, Johnny spoke so quietly she almost missed it.
"...I didn't like it."
He looked down at the path
"...Seeing him with you."
Y/n looked over at him.
Neither of them spoke for another few steps.
By the time Cuddledown appeared through the trees, whatever Johnny had been holding back all night looked dangerously thin.
He stopped at the bottom of the porch steps.
Y/n stopped too.
For a second neither of them moved.
Then Johnny finally looked at her properly.
And something in his expression shifted.
“I’m not good at pretending I don’t care,” he said quietly.
Y/n held his gaze.
Because she already knew that.
The silence stretched between them.
Not awkward.
Just impossible to ignore now.
Johnny looked away briefly like he was trying to get control of himself again.
Then back at her.
“Come inside.”
The house was dark when they stepped into Cuddledown.
The door shut softly behind them.
Everything suddenly felt too quiet after the noise of the boat.
Johnny stayed near the doorway for a second like he wasn’t entirely sure how to start this.
Then he laughed once under his breath.
Tired. Sharp. No humor in it.
“This is stupid.”
Y/n frowned slightly. “What is?”
He looked at her then.
Really looked at her.
“This,” he said quietly. “Me pretending I’m fine with any of this.”
Y/n didn’t interrupt.
Johnny ran a hand through his hair, jaw tightening.
"I kept telling myself it was nothing."
He let out a quiet laugh.
"Just me being overprotective."
He looked at her.
"Then I watched him talking to you..."
He shook his head once.
"...and I realized it wasn't that."
Y/n’s breath caught slightly.
Johnny stopped directly in front of her now.
Close enough that neither of them could really pretend this was still normal.
Johnny looked at her like he’d already crossed a line he didn’t know how to uncross.
"I can't keep pretending I don't want this."
His eyes dropped briefly to her mouth.
Then back up.
"I don't want to keep pretending like you're just my best friend."
A beat.
Then quieter:
“Not when I know what it feels like when you look at me instead.”
That was the moment everything tipped.
Y/n stepped forward first.
Johnny met her halfway.
The kiss was hesitant at first.
Careful enough to feel almost disbelieving.
Then every bit of restraint they'd been carrying for weeks finally disappeared.
Johnny’s hand slid carefully against her jaw like he needed something steady to hold onto.
Y/n’s fingers caught lightly in his shirt to keep him close.
When they finally pulled apart, neither of them moved far.
Neither of them said anything.
There wasn't anything left to say.
Johnny stayed there, forehead nearly touching hers, breathing unevenly.
Outside, waves crashed softly against the shore below the cliffs.
Inside Cuddledown, nothing felt the same anymore.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Thank you so much for reading! please comment or like if you want more fics like this or if you want a third chapter, if so I may make this a small series. Please dm me if you have any request!!! <3
I'll be posting pt 2 of my Johnny Sinclair fic tomorrow!! I’m so excited to post this I’ve really tried to make it the best I could! I’m sorry to any who's been waiting on it but, the wait is finally over!!!
Content warnings:
Romantic tension/ Jealousy/ Underage drinking/ Near kiss/ Kissing/
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
The path back to Cuddledown was louder than it should’ve been.
Wet footsteps on wood.
Mirren laughing too hard at something Gat said.
Johnny and Gat arguing over rules that changed every single time they played chicken.
By the time the house came into view through the trees, everyone had mostly dissolved into tiredness and saltwater and late-afternoon heat.
Cadence stopped in the path first.
“Everyone shower before movie night,” she said without turning around. “You all smell like seawater and bad decisions.”
“Mostly them,” Gat said immediately, pointing at Johnny and Y/n.
Johnny barely looked at him. “You lost. Your opinion means nothing.”
“That is not how winning works.”
“That sounds like something a loser would say,” Y/n added.
Gat stared at both of them. “You’re insufferable together.”
Mirren snorted.
The arguing carried across the lawn until the paths between houses split them apart.
Cadence and Mirren headed toward Windemere still debating the movie. Gat disappeared toward Red Gate complaining that Cadence was absolutely going to pick something “slow and emotionally devastating on purpose.”
Johnny followed a few steps behind him before glancing back once.
Just once.
Then he disappeared into the trees too.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Cuddledown felt different after everyone left.
Quieter.
No liars
No slamming doors
The screen door creaked shut behind Y/n as she stepped inside, and suddenly all she could hear was the distant crash of waves somewhere below the cliffs.
Upstairs, she showered quickly, washing salt and sand from her skin before pulling on an oversized t-shirt and the same worn sleep shorts she always wore during movie nights on the island.
By the time she came back downstairs, towel rubbing through damp hair, she stopped halfway down the staircase.
Johnny was already there.
He stood in the middle of the living room with a blanket thrown over one shoulder and a bowl of popcorn balanced in one hand like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.
Y/n blinked.
“You’re back already?”
Johnny looked up.
Then immediately narrowed his eyes.
“That’s my shirt.”
She glanced down lazily. “It’s a shirt.”
“It’s my shirt.”
“You left it here.”
Johnny stared at her another second like this was somehow still her fault.
Then he held up the popcorn instead.
“You were taking too long.”
Y/n smiled a little despite herself and walked the rest of the way downstairs.
Together, they finished setting up the living room the way they always did.
Blankets everywhere. Pillows thrown onto the floor. Snacks scattered across the coffee table like nobody planned on cleaning any of it up later.
Johnny dragged cushions off the couch while Y/n stole popcorn from the bowl every time she passed him.
The third time she did it, he caught her wrist.
“Seriously?”
She looked up automatically.
And realized he was closer than she expected.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Johnny’s fingers loosened first.
“Get your own,” he muttered.
“Make me.”
His mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
By the time they finished, the room looked like every movie night they’d ever had on the island.
Except somehow, it didn't feel like every other movie night.
They ended up on the smaller couch off to the side while they waited for the others.
Close enough that their knees brushed whenever either of them shifted.
Johnny tossed popcorn into his mouth without looking away from the screen saver bouncing across the TV.
“You almost drowned Gat earlier.”
Y/n looked offended. “I absolutely did not.”
“You shoved him off his own team.”
“He was losing balance. I assisted.”
Johnny laughed quietly.
“You’re actually the worst.”
“You’re just mad I carried us.”
That finally got his attention.
Johnny turned toward her slightly, arm stretched along the back of the couch.
“You carried us?”
“I was the one knocking Cady off. You just happened to be underneath me.”
He stared at her for a second.
Then shook his head slowly.
“That’s insane. You were holding on for your life.”
Her face warmed instantly.
“I was not.”
Johnny grinned—easy and familiar, but it caught her off guard anyway.
“You were digging your nails into my shoulders.”
Y/n grabbed the nearest pillow and hit him with it.
Johnny caught it easily, laughing under his breath.
“That was self-defense,” she said.
“Sure.”
“You almost dropped me.”
His expression shifted slightly then.
Not joking anymore.
“I wasn’t going to.”
The room went quieter after that.
Not because of what he said.
Because of how he said it.
Y/n looked at him.
Johnny had already looked away again, attention dropping back to the popcorn in his lap like the moment hadn’t happened at all.
"I know," she said softly.
Johnny set the popcorn down...
When he leaned back again, his shoulder pressed lightly into hers.
Neither of them moved away.
Y/n tucked her legs closer beneath her, blanket shifting around her knees.
Johnny’s hand rested against the couch cushion beside her.
Close enough that if either of them moved even slightly—
Footsteps sounded outside.
Voices.
The screen door slammed open.
Both of them pulled apart instinctively.
Johnny grabbed the popcorn bowl off the floor at the exact same time Y/n reached for the blanket beside her.
By the time the others walked in, they already looked normal again.
Or close enough to it.
Cadence glanced between them once.
Johnny pointed immediately at Gat.
“I’m telling you, he blamed the tide because he lost.”
“I did not,” Gat said.
“You literally did,” Y/n added casually.
Mirren dropped onto the floor cushions. “Honestly that sounds believable.”
Gat pointed at them accusingly. “You’re both lying.”
“No,” Johnny said. “We’re collaborating.”
That got a laugh out of Mirren.
Cadence’s eyes lingered a second longer than everyone else’s.
But there was nothing obvious to catch.
Just Johnny shoving the popcorn toward Y/n without looking at her.
Just Y/n taking it like she always did.
Nothing different.
Nothing dangerous.
Not unless you looked too closely.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Movie night started the way it always did.
Gat complaining within the first five minutes.
Mirren throwing popcorn at him.
Cadence defending the movie like it was personally offensive not to appreciate it.
And somewhere in the middle of all of it, the room slowly softened into late-night quiet.
The movie kept playing.
Nobody really watched it.
Johnny stayed beside Y/n on the couch, shoulder pressed lightly against hers beneath the blanket.
Easy.
Natural.
Too natural.
At some point his arm settled along the back of the couch behind her.
At some point she stopped noticing where her shoulder ended and his began.
The movie turned quieter onscreen.
Dialogue softer now.
More serious.
Gat groaned dramatically from the floor.
“If they stare at each other one more time, I’m leaving.”
“You’re not leaving,” Cadence said.
“I could.”
“You literally live here.”
Johnny leaned slightly closer to Y/n without taking his eyes off the screen.
"…You're not even watching it."
Y/n smiled without looking away.
"Neither are you."
Johnny glanced at her.
She'd caught him.
Again.
It was becoming a habit.
He looked back at the screen.
"...Fair."
She laughed quietly.
Really laughed.
Johnny looked at her for half a second.
Not long.
Just enough.
Then he looked away again like it hadn’t mattered.
But his hand tightened slightly around the popcorn bowl anyway.
Across the room, Cadence noticed.
She didn’t say anything.
The night blurred after that.
Mirren curled beneath a blanket first.
Then Gat stretched across the floor insisting he was “just resting his eyes.”
Cadence lasted the longest before eventually leaning back against the couch cushions, arms folded loosely, eyes slipping shut during the middle of a scene she’d probably spent twenty minutes defending earlier.
Eventually the only sound left was the movie itself.
Soft dialogue.
Ocean outside.
The occasional creak of old wood settling in the walls.
Y/n’s eyes slipped shut for a second too long.
Beside her, Johnny shifted slightly closer.
"Still with us?"
Y/n smiled without opening her eyes.
"Maybe."
He laughed quietly.
"That's a no."
She nudged his shoulder with hers.
Barely enough to feel.
"Shut up."
The room settled into silence again.
Heavy with sleep.
Heavy with everything left unsaid.
Y/n's eyes slipped shut for a second too long.
Her head tipped sideways before she realized what was happening.
It landed lightly against Johnny's shoulder.
Johnny went still.
Not tense.
Just careful.
He glanced down at her.
"Comfortable?"
"...Mhm."
"Thought so."
A few seconds passed.
"Don't move," she mumbled sleepily.
Johnny smiled to himself.
"Wasn't planning on it."
She never answered.
She was already asleep.
Johnny stayed exactly where he was so she wouldn’t have to move.
At some point Johnny set the popcorn on the coffee table without thinking about it.
At some point the movie became background noise.
At some point everyone in the room drifted asleep.
Cadence.
Mirren.
Gat.
Then them too.
The television kept flickering soft blue light across the room long after nobody was awake enough to see it.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
The party happened a few nights later.
A boat anchored just far enough from shore that Beachwood blurred into gold streaks against the dark water.
Music shook through the deck hard enough to feel through the floorboards.
Everything smelled like saltwater and alcohol and summer heat.
The night started easily.
Mirren grabbed Y/n's hand almost as soon as they stepped aboard.
"Come on."
Before Y/n could protest, Mirren had already pulled her toward the music.
Cadence wandered toward the railing instead, leaning against it as she watched the black water roll beneath the boat.
Johnny and Gat claimed one of the high tables near the drinks.
For a while, everything felt familiar.
The kind of summer night Beachwood seemed to specialize in.
Music.
Laughter.
Salt in the air.
Then, as always—
Gat found someone to argue with.
"I am telling you," Gat said, already pointing at someone across the deck, "that's objectively wrong."
Johnny laughed.
"You've known him thirty seconds."
"I don't need longer."
The stranger laughed.
"Oh, we're settling this."
Within moments, Gat had disappeared into a loud debate with three people he'd never met before.
Johnny shook his head, taking another sip from the cup in his hand.
Across the deck, Mirren leaned close enough for Y/n to hear her.
"I'm getting another drink."
Y/n nodded.
"I'll still be here."
Mirren smiled once before weaving back through the crowd.
For a few seconds, Y/n had the dance floor to herself.
She laughed quietly when someone bumped into her shoulder, mouthing a quick sorry before spinning back toward the music.
She wasn't really dancing with anyone.
Just letting the music carry her, arms swaying lazily as the boat rocked beneath her feet.
Johnny found himself watching without meaning to.
There was something easy about her.
Like she belonged here.
On the water.
Under the lights.
Smiling like summer had never been anything but kind.
Then someone stepped into the empty space beside her.
Tall.
Older.
Comfortable enough to start a conversation without hesitation.
Johnny noticed almost immediately.
At first, he didn't think much of it.
People talked to Y/n all the time.
She was easy to talk to.
Easy to laugh with.
He looked away.
Finished another sip of his drink.
Then looked back.
The guy was still there.
Saying something that made Y/n smile.
Not a huge smile.
Just the small one that always reached her eyes first.
Johnny had seen that smile a thousand times.
Across bonfires.
On the beach.
Late at night when the rest of them couldn't stop laughing long enough to go to sleep.
For some reason...
Seeing someone else earn it didn't feel right.
He looked away again.
One.
Two.
Three.
She'd probably never see the guy again after tonight.
So why did it suddenly matter?
He lasted all of three seconds.
Then he looked back anyway.
The guy had stepped closer so she could hear him over the music.
Johnny hated how quickly he'd looked back.
A few minutes later, Gat wandered back to the table, still grinning to himself.
"I won."
Johnny didn't answer.
Gat frowned.
"...Earth to Sinclair."
Johnny blinked.
"What?"
"I said I won."
Johnny glanced back at him for half a second.
"Congratulations."
His eyes were already drifting back across the deck.
Mirren returned a second later, drink in hand.
She started to say something—
Then noticed Johnny wasn't listening.
She followed his gaze across the deck.
Her eyes landed on Y/n.
Then the guy beside her.
A slow smile spread across her face.
"...Well."
Cadence drifted over from the railing, resting her elbows against the table.
"What?"
Mirren tipped her head toward the dance floor.
Cadence looked.
She immediately found Y/n.
Then the guy standing beside her.
Then Johnny.
Her eyebrows lifted just slightly.
Gat looked between the three of them.
"What?"
Neither girl answered.
Gat sighed dramatically before following Johnny's line of sight himself.
He found Y/n.
Found the stranger beside her.
Then looked back at Johnny.
"...Oh."
Mirren let out a quiet laugh.
"See it now?"
"Oh, I see it."
Johnny still hadn't moved.
Had barely blinked.
His eyes hadn't left Y/n once.
Mirren smiled into her drink.
"He's really trying to pretend this doesn't bother him."
Cadence shook her head.
"No."
She watched Johnny for another second.
"He's not pretending anymore."
Johnny finally looked away.
Only because he realized they were all staring at him.
"What?"
Mirren smiled innocently.
"What?"
Johnny repeated.
"Nothing," she said.
"Nothing at all."
He narrowed his eyes.
"You all look weird."
"We're not the ones staring across the boat," Gat said.
Johnny frowned.
"I wasn't—"
"You've looked over there at least six times," Mirren interrupted.
"Seven," Cadence corrected quietly.
Johnny looked from one of them to the next.
"...Have you all been watching me?"
Mirren smiled.
"Hard not to."
Gat laughed.
"You weren't exactly subtle."
Johnny opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
Across the deck—
The guy laughed.
Y/n laughed too.
Johnny didn't move.
The guy kept talking.
Y/n laughed.
Johnny immediately put his cup down.
Mirren watches him.
"Three…"
Gat looks at her.
"…Two…"
Johnny starts walking.
Cadence smiles.
"…One."
Johnny crossed the last few steps before he could talk himself out of it.
He slowed as he reached them, catching the end of whatever story the guy had been telling.
Y/n looked over first.
The second she saw Johnny, her expression softened.
"Johnny."
He nodded once.
"Hey."
The guy glanced between them.
"Friend of yours?"
Y/n smiled without hesitation.
"My best friend."
Johnny smiled automatically.
It should've felt the way it always had.
Somehow...
It didn't.
"I'm Mason," the guy said, offering Johnny a hand.
Johnny shook it.
"Johnny."
"You guys grew up together?"
"Pretty much," Y/n answered.
"Our families spend every summer out here."
"That's actually really cool," Mason said.
Johnny nodded.
"Yeah."
The conversation stumbled along for another minute.
Mostly because Johnny wasn't saying much.
Y/n kept glancing at him between sentences.
She knew him too well not to notice.
Something was off.
Mason looked between the two of them.
Then smiled.
"Well..."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I'm gonna grab another drink."
He looked at Y/n.
"It was nice meeting you."
"You too."
He nodded toward Johnny.
"See you around."
Johnny returned the nod.
"Yeah."
The music filled the silence for a few seconds.
Y/n looked at him.
"Okay."
Johnny blinked.
"Okay?"
She folded her arms.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Johnny."
"Seriously," he said, a little too quickly.
"You've been acting weird."
"I literally just walked over here."
"Exactly."
"Exactly?" Johnny asked, frowning.
"You walked over here."
"So..."
He looked toward the crowd where Mason had disappeared.
"Who was that?"
Y/n shrugged.
"I don't know."
Johnny looked back at her.
"...You don't know?"
"No."
"Then why were you talking to him?"
She laughed.
"Because he started talking to me."
Then...
Y/n studies him.
Just for a second.
Then smiles.
"Are you jealous?"
Silence.
Johnny stares.
"No."
Too fast.
Y/n's smile only grew.
"Mm-hmm."
"I'm not."
Johnny looked away, shaking his head.
"You make friends with literally everyone."
Y/n laughs.
That same laugh.
The one that bothered him five minutes ago.
Only this time...
He was the reason.
He smiled despite himself.
Somehow, without either of them deciding it...
They spent the rest of the night together.
When the party finally began to wind down, neither of them noticed how late it had gotten.
Johnny looked at her.
This time...
He didn't look away.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
By the time everyone climbed onto the Sinclair boat, the music from the party had faded into little more than a distant thump across the water.
Nobody talked much.
Gat stretched out across one of the benches.
Mirren leaned against the side of the boat with her eyes half closed.
Cadence watched the dark water drift past in silence as she drove.
Y/n stood near the railing.
Johnny wandered over after a minute.
Neither of them spoke.
They didn't need to.
The Sinclair boat bumped gently against the dock.
One by one, everyone climbed out.
Like they always did, everyone split off without really thinking about it.
Cadence and Gat disappeared ahead.
Mirren yawned, waving over her shoulder as she headed toward Cuddledown.
Y/n started after them.
“Hey.”
She turned back.
Johnny hesitated briefly before speaking again.
“Walk with me.”
It wasn’t really a question.
Y/n nodded once anyway.
The path back to Cuddledown was quiet except for the sound of waves somewhere below the cliffs.
They walked in silence for another minute.
Y/n glanced over at him.
"You know..."
Johnny looked up.
"What?"
A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
"I wasn't actually serious."
He frowned.
"About what?"
"Asking if you were jealous."
Johnny let out one quiet laugh.
Mostly at himself.
"...I know."
Silence settled between them again.
After a while, Johnny spoke so quietly she almost missed it.
"...I didn't like it."
He looked down at the path
"...Seeing him with you."
Y/n looked over at him.
Neither of them spoke for another few steps.
By the time Cuddledown appeared through the trees, whatever Johnny had been holding back all night looked dangerously thin.
He stopped at the bottom of the porch steps.
Y/n stopped too.
For a second neither of them moved.
Then Johnny finally looked at her properly.
And something in his expression shifted.
“I’m not good at pretending I don’t care,” he said quietly.
Y/n held his gaze.
Because she already knew that.
The silence stretched between them.
Not awkward.
Just impossible to ignore now.
Johnny looked away briefly like he was trying to get control of himself again.
Then back at her.
“Come inside.”
The house was dark when they stepped into Cuddledown.
The door shut softly behind them.
Everything suddenly felt too quiet after the noise of the boat.
Johnny stayed near the doorway for a second like he wasn’t entirely sure how to start this.
Then he laughed once under his breath.
Tired. Sharp. No humor in it.
“This is stupid.”
Y/n frowned slightly. “What is?”
He looked at her then.
Really looked at her.
“This,” he said quietly. “Me pretending I’m fine with any of this.”
Y/n didn’t interrupt.
Johnny ran a hand through his hair, jaw tightening.
"I kept telling myself it was nothing."
He let out a quiet laugh.
"Just me being overprotective."
He looked at her.
"Then I watched him talking to you..."
He shook his head once.
"...and I realized it wasn't that."
Y/n’s breath caught slightly.
Johnny stopped directly in front of her now.
Close enough that neither of them could really pretend this was still normal.
Johnny looked at her like he’d already crossed a line he didn’t know how to uncross.
"I can't keep pretending I don't want this."
His eyes dropped briefly to her mouth.
Then back up.
"I don't want to keep pretending like you're just my best friend."
A beat.
Then quieter:
“Not when I know what it feels like when you look at me instead.”
That was the moment everything tipped.
Y/n stepped forward first.
Johnny met her halfway.
The kiss was hesitant at first.
Careful enough to feel almost disbelieving.
Then every bit of restraint they'd been carrying for weeks finally disappeared.
Johnny’s hand slid carefully against her jaw like he needed something steady to hold onto.
Y/n’s fingers caught lightly in his shirt to keep him close.
When they finally pulled apart, neither of them moved far.
Neither of them said anything.
There wasn't anything left to say.
Johnny stayed there, forehead nearly touching hers, breathing unevenly.
Outside, waves crashed softly against the shore below the cliffs.
Inside Cuddledown, nothing felt the same anymore.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Thank you so much for reading! please comment or like if you want more fics like this or if you want a third chapter, if so I may make this a small series. Please dm me if you have any request!!! <3
I'll be posting pt 2 of my Johnny Sinclair fic tomorrow!! I’m so excited to post this I’ve really tried to make it the best I could! I’m sorry to any who's been waiting on it but, the wait is finally over!!!
I'll be posting pt 2 of my Johnny Sinclair fic tomorrow!! I’m so excited to post this I’ve really tried to make it the best I could! I’m sorry to any who's been waiting on it but, the wait is finally over!!!
series summary: You and John Logan are childhood best friends. You share the kind of emotional intimacy only two people who have seen each other grow up can have, but now you’re no longer kids, you’re college students and trying to navigate the complex time between childhood and adulthood. Before joining John at Briar U a year after him, you were convinced your silly crush had faded, but now that you’re back in his orbit, you’re no longer so sure. You try your best to remain just friends, but watching him turn from the boy down the street to the big man on campus is harder than you thought. And you’re not sure how much more you can take of watching him overlook you time and time again.
contains: friends to enemies (sort of) to lovers, no use of y/n (logan has nickname for reader: birdie), cursing, kissing, flirty talk lol, garrett graham feeling guilty, talk of therapy, healing <3
author’s note: i honestly don’t know how i feel about this ending, its late and i’m tired :p but this may not be the end of birdie and john, maybe i’ll do an extra lil blurb or epilogue for them, who knows! thanks everyone for reading, i hope this is somewhat pleasing for you and worth the wait <3
“Do you think she’s dead?”
“She sure looks like it.”
Your sleep-addled brain is having a hard time registering the voices coming from above you. Your pillow is so soft and your body perfectly warm beneath the covers, you didn’t want to acknowledge them, or the fact that they sounded distinctly like your sister’s.
Then, just as you start to drift off again, light floods your room as the curtains are quickly pulled back from your windows. You groan, squinting at the abrupt and blinding brightness. This time of year, the sun set shines directly through your window, bathing the entirety of the space in an orange light. Most days, it was delightful. For depressive episodes? It wasn’t the kind of mood lighting you were going for.
You throw an arm over your eyes, but quickly remember the bruise blooming there and wince at the sensitivity, cupping a hand over your eyes instead to try and block out the light.
“God, do you mind?” A migraine closes in quickly, like your brain took a moment to catch up to the fact that you are now awake, and your eyes ache like you’ve spent the last few months in a dark cave. You send your best glare towards your siblings, but you’re sure between your swollen eye and the pain-filled grimace you’re already sporting, it isn’t translating. They only look back with concern.
“Here.” All your animosity fades, however, when one of them hands you a bottle of Advil and a glass of water. You sit up too quickly, your head swimming for a moment before settling like a shaken snow globe, and eagerly swallow the pills.
You completely finish the glass of water before asking, “what are you guys doing here?”
“John called us. And thank god he did, it looks like you were run over.” You groan once again at the mention of him, flopping back down onto your pillow behind you and lifting the covers over your head. A hand reaches up to pull them back immediately and you find no strength to object.
“Feels like it, too,” you bitterly remark. You hadn’t looked in the mirror since you got home earlier this morning, but the swelling that had occurred after just thirty minutes was concerning. After lying in bed for several hours with an ice pack that had quickly melted, you presumed that now you looked awful.
Your eldest sister moves to join you on your bed and you move your feet to provide a place for her to sit on the end, “what happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you murmur, watching your middle sister pull your desk chair around to sit on. Your head hurts and your cheek is hot and not nearly enough time has passed since the incident that you felt ready to talk about any of it. You just wanted to sleep. Maybe for a few years.
“Can you at least tell us if we need to go murder someone?”
You laugh despite your mood, feeling something release in your chest. “No. It was an accident.”
“Are you sure?” Your sister pokes your thigh from her spot in front of you. “I’m not afraid to go against a hockey player.”
“Oh, I know you’re not.” You nod in agreement. Anyone willing to go toe-to-toe with your feisty middle sister had a death wish. “And thank you. But, no. It’s okay.”
You knew Garrett wouldn’t put up much a fight anyway. He had a knack for punishing himself worse than anyone else ever could, and your heart ached for him despite it all.
“Alright.” You’re snapped out of your thoughts at the abrupt interruption. “I know what we need.”
“I’m not going out and getting drunk with you,” you’re quick to inform them.
“God, you’re no fun.”
“Hey! Don’t I at least get a free pass for being injured?”
“Your cool older sisters are promising to sneak you into a club and get you drunk, why would you wanna say no to that?”
“Because I look like I lost a really intense staring contest…?”
“Guys,” the eldest of you interrupts. “I have something better in mind.”
Luckily, it was only a movie. 13 Going on 30, to be exact. Your favorite.
The three of you sit lined up along your bed, your backs to the wall while your feet hang off the side and your laptop is propped up on your desk chair across from you. Though you each pop your own bag of popcorn, you still steal from each other’s just to hear the other complain half-heartedly through a laugh.
As your head rests on one of their shoulders, the three of you squished together despite there being enough room to spread out, you watch the scene where Jenna leaps off the swings and her and Matt fall to the ground together. When they kiss, you ask, “is love supposed to be complicated?”
They’re quiet for a moment, then your middle sister says, “I don’t think there’s one right way for it to be.” It was one of her more sincere moments. She usually wraps herself in wit and arms herself with sarcasm, but it was one of those rare moments with just the three of you that she seemed to lay her weapons down.
“I think those who find it easy are very lucky,” your oldest sister adds quietly. “It shouldn’t always be hard, but it takes effort. And it should always feel worth it.”
You hum like you understand, but you don’t. Not really.
Your feelings of love were easy. They came easy, they easily stayed, but if the person didn’t want you to love them, none of it really mattered.
You cry at the ending of the movie like you always do, but your sadness feels released a little afterwards. Your sister’s stay into the night, the three of you order takeout and play cards until it’s well past midnight. Two of you fall asleep together on your bed while the other sleeps across the room on Grace’s. Luckily, she was in Paris for the holidays, but you would have to make sure her sheets were clean before her return.
The next morning, as you’re all cleaning up and they’re gathering their things to leave, you hear a knock at the door. When you open it, you find Garrett standing on the other side, looking a bit worse for wear. His eyes, dark crescents evident beneath, immediately flick to the yellowing bruise on your cheek just beneath your eye.
He swallows roughly at the sight and you turn to look back at your sisters, the both of them obviously waiting to see whether or not you wanted them to stay. The answer is wordlessly passed between the three of you and they make their way towards the door.
“We’ll just…leave you guys to it.” They both give you a small squeeze on their way out, muttering to call them later. They shoot Garrett daggers on their way out as well, which you’re sure are more deadly than any his opponents have ever given him.
You motion for him to come inside and notice how nervous he seems. You’ve seen cocky Garrett, serious study-time Garrett, but you hadn’t ever seen nervous wreck Garrett. His hands fidgeted, going from his pockets to his hair and then back to his pockets again.
You both seem at a loss for words, the two of you just standing in the center of your room with nothing but the quiet whir of the fan blowing.
“Are you okay?” He finally asks, his eyes flicking up to yours, your bruise, and then back down again.
“I’m okay,” you confirm, your tone gentle like how you might speak to a wounded animal you don’t want to spook. “Definitely will be putting my full coverage foundation to the test this week, though.” It’s a poor attempt at a joke. When he says nothing, you pivot. “I know you didn’t mean to, Garrett.”
“It doesn’t make it okay.” He still won’t look at you, just the rug beneath his boots like there’s something there that might save him.
“No,” you agree. “But I still forgive you.” Your words seem to make him feel worse instead of better, his face crumpling as he sits back on Grace’s bed across from you and leans forward to put his head in his hands.
“You should be mad at me.” His words are slightly muffled as he speaks to the floor below.
“Would it make you feel better if I told you I was?” You were half joking. You weren’t mad at him, but you did feel upset with how he handled that night. He shouldn’t have egged John on, but then again, maybe you shouldn’t have told Garrett those things about him.
You’d shared tidbits of John’s past in hopes it might get Garrett to understand more of why John was the way he was. It was sort of comical how similar the two of them actually were. They were both fiercely loyal, absolutely hated opening up to people and allowed them to think the worst, and both were trying desperately hard to be the opposite of their fathers. If only they talked to each other, they might realize that.
“Maybe. I don’t know.” You slowly move to sit beside him, his elbows still on his knees, his hands in his hair.
“You know you’re allowed to make mistakes, right?”
He laughs bitterly and straightens, though he still won’t look at you. “This seems like a pretty big one to make.”
“I stepped in front of you while you were fighting someone,” you deadpan.
“Don’t do that,” his tone almost angry. “Don’t make this your fault.”
“Why? Why do you get all the credit? I’m at fault here too.”
“I shouldn’t have been fighting him.” His voice is loud in the quiet between you, his posture shrinking back to a slump shortly after like he’s trying to make himself smaller. “I should have just backed off. Let you guys have your moment. You’d already told me how you felt about me, anyway.”
He was right, you had. But that was one of the reasons you felt so guilty about kissing John only a few hours after having a heart-to-heart discussion with Garrett.
He’d come out back to join you, eyeing your smoking form with an amused smirk. “Ringing in the new year stoned,” he sighed as he sat down beside you. “I like it.”
You offered some to him, but he declined just like John had. They were strict when they were in-season. Well, all of them except Dean, whom you had gotten the weed from.
“Trying something different.” You shrugged. Last year, you celebrated for the first time with champagne and woke up the next day with a splitting headache. The years before that, the only buzz you’d gotten was from the sugar in the sparkling cider, so you decided it was time to shake things up a bit and experiment.
“Should I be concerned that all this exposure to Dean is corrupting you? Should I stop letting you come over? Are you also going to ring in the new year with a semi-public threesome?”
You snorted at the thought. “No. I’m saving that for next year.”
He nodded like he was impressed. “Pacing yourself. Nice.”
“Dean has informed me that his lifestyle is an art form. Not to be taken lightly.”
“Is that so?” He looks like he’s fighting a smile. You’d had a similar reaction to your friend’s declaration.
“Oh yes.” You both laugh lightly before you take another drag. “So, how are you ringing in the new year? With Kendall?” Realistically, he could pick from any of the girls in there, and odds are they’d all happily kiss him at midnight.
Oh, to be Garrett Graham.
He shook his head, suddenly looking less humorous and more serious. “Nah. I don’t think there’s anyone in there I want to kiss tonight.”
“Oh? I thought you really liked hanging out with Kendall?”
“Yeah, no.” He didn’t sound very enthusiastic at all. “I have, I just…I don’t know, I guess I’ve been enjoying our time together so much.”
You felt your stomach drop a bit at his words. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed the slight change in his behavior the past few weeks. He went from only talking to you in your shared class to texting throughout the day and calling to debrief at night. For someone who so frequently advertised he didn’t want a girlfriend, he had certainly gotten used to the perks of having one. The distraction had been nice from the John stuff, but you had to stop it before it went too far. “Garrett…”
“I know. But I don’t talk to any of those girls the way I talk with you. And if I do, they immediately think I want a relationship.”
You laugh lightly. “Well…don’t you?”
“No. I don’t have time for that.”
“Garrett.” You drop your head to look at him through your lashes knowingly. “We are basically in a relationship, just without the sex. We talk and hangout, tell each other about our days. It’s just different with me because there isn’t the added stress of putting your heart on the line.”
He scoffs, though he doesn’t argue. “Okay, so why can’t we give us a real shot then?” When you open your mouth to reply, he butts in to add, “Besides the whole Logan thing.”
“I don’t…” you struggled to find your words, cursing the weed now that made your brain fuzzy. “I just…don’t see you like that.”
You were trying to say it gently, but no matter how you put it, something like that is hard to say, especially to the person’s face. And his face immediately softens with sadness at the confession.
“Do you really not see me like that, or is it that you can’t?”
“What’s the difference?” You were too high for this right now.
“I mean, if Logan weren’t in the picture, and I’d been able to ask you out like I wanted to back at the party last fall, could you feel something for me?” You didn’t even know how to picture that sort of circumstance. Your life without John alone seemed like something impossible.
“I…don’t know.” You stared into the flameless fire that was mostly smoldering now, the red and orange glow dancing over the blackened logs.
“Would you try?”
You look over at him suddenly. “Try what?”
“Try to feel something for me.”
“I don’t think that’s how that works,” you try to joke, though the intensity never dissipates in his intense gaze.
“Just one kiss. That’s all I’m asking for. And then, if you still feel nothing, we’ll never speak of it again.”
You start a sentence about five times before giving up, looking for any excuse you might have, but you can’t come up with one. How much easier would it be for you to be with someone like Garrett? Someone…uncomplicated and open about their feelings. What if you only wanted those you can’t have? What if there was something wrong with you?
“Okay,” you hear yourself say.
“Okay?”
“Yes.” You steel yourself before you can change your mind, feeling oddly nervous.
He leans across the small space between you, his eyes locked on your lips. You close your eyes before he even gets to you, trying hard to clear your mind of anyone else you’ve kissed before. You won’t compare. Not this time.
But you do.
When his mouth presses to yours, it’s…nice. Not unpleasant. Garrett is a good kisser, but…
But
But
But
When he pulls away, he has a hopeful sort of look that makes your heart squeeze in your chest.
“Garrett…” he knows immediately from your tone, his head hanging down briefly before he smiles sadly.
“I know.” He sighs. “I’m not him. I never will be.”
“You have time for a relationship. You deserve one. And you’ll find your person, it just…isn’t me.”
He left you shortly after to sit alone once again by the ever-dwindling fire. You stopped smoking the moment you realized the weed wasn’t helping to clear your head.
“Have you talked to Logan?” You ask Garrett as he sits beside you in your dorm now, looking no less crestfallen than on New Year’s Eve.
“He won’t talk to me,” he mumbles mournfully.
“Well, maybe give him more than forty-eight hours,” you tease, bumping his shoulder with yours. “But seriously. Talk. I think you’d be surprised how much you guys have to discuss.”
He nods absently, like he’s already dismissed the idea. You hope he doesn’t.
“I’m sorry. For everything.”
Instead of forgiveness, which you know he’ll begrudgingly and barely accept, you give him an assignment. “You want to make it up to me? Talk to your best friend.”
7 months later
There is a for sale sign up in front of the Logan’s house.
You thought, at first, that maybe all those late night shifts at Malone’s were getting to you. You’d come home late, the muggy July air clinging to your clothes, and your eyes drifted towards the house down the street, like they always seemed to do. You hadn’t caught it at first, but your double-take was so intense that you almost dropped the leftover pie you’d brought home for your parents.
You pulled your phone out and texted a number you hadn’t in months.
「 ✦ You ✦ 」
‘Is your mom selling the house!?’
「 ✦ John Logan ✦ 」
‘Yes.’
The three bubbles came and left about five times before you gave up waiting on him to respond. You knew things had been weird between the two of you lately, but you thought he would at least tell you about this.
「 ✦ You ✦ 」
‘When are you moving things out?’
「 ✦ John Logan ✦ 」
‘Friday.’
「 ✦ You ✦ 」
‘I’ll be there.’
John doesn’t argue.
And Friday, you’re standing on his front porch feeling just like you did when you were nine and nervously asking his mother if he could come outside and play.
He opened the door with a soft, almost shy smile, his shirt a little dirty from the maintenance he was doing and the dust kicked up from years of stagnant furniture.
It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him since New Years. You went to school together, and you had mutual friends, it was difficult to fully ignore eachother. He’d apologized for that night and you occasionally exchanged a few pleasantries, but you never let it get past that.
“For future reference,” you tell him in lieu of a formal greeting, pressing the cup of coffee into his chest as you pass him to walk inside. “Selling your childhood home that’s down the street from your childhood best friend? News worthy.”
The space is already half empty around you, and if you weren’t already familiar with the Logan’s house, you could tell where everything used to be based off the scuff marks along the hardwood.
“I’m sorry, I almost sent about 30 texts. None of them sounded right.”
“Just one would have sufficed.” You turn back to him, watching him anxiously rub the back of his neck.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“You said that.”
“S—“ You give him a look before he apologizes again, his hands going up in surrender.
You turn on your heel to look back around the mostly vacant living room and sigh. “Okay. What needs doing?”
He sighs as well. “I’m mostly done in here. The basement, though…” he trails off.
The basement is a shit show.
It’s a rodent’s paradise and a hoarder’s starter home.
There’s boxes of stuff piled up toward the ceiling and rusty tools that may have at one point, a long time ago, been used on some car. You and John stand at the bottom of the stairs just staring at the mess in front of you for a few seconds before either of you say anything.
“…How…?” You begin.
“I have no idea,” he finishes.
You say nothing else, but dive into the mountain of junk before you with the same excitement one might reserve for eating fruitcake.
In the first few boxes, you find old dish sets, mostly shattered, and some old baby clothes. The two of you organize everything into three piles; keep, throw away, and donate. There is significantly less in the keep pile than any other and far more in the trash than should be.
You open another box, already losing count, but something north of four, to find some old pictures and when you find one of John as a chubby little baby, you immediately spin around and hold it up to show him.
“Oh my god.”
“What?” He looks over concerned at your voice, but immediately shifts from worried to embarrassed.
“You had a bowl cut?” Your voice is squeaky with excitement, showing him the photograph of himself probably around the age of three. His cheesy smile is boyish and absolutely adorable and does something to your heart that makes it feel all mushy.
“If you don’t put those back, I’m kicking you out.” His threat is softened by the smile he’s poorly attempting to hide.
You continue on. “Look at you in your Christmas jammies!”
This time, he walks towards you, reaching out to snatch the photo from your grip. “Alright. That’s enough.”
“Are those…Power Ranger themed?”
“I was four. Give me a break.”
“Oh my god, I wanna keep this forever and ever.” Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard, cradling the photo to your chest. He’s trying to send you a look to get you to stop, but it softens along the edges.
“If I let you keep it, will you stop looking at my baby pictures?”
“Aww, but I haven’t seen the quintessential bare butt one!” You complain while unable to hold back your giggles. He laughs too, but walks over to close the top of the cardboard box, moving it out of your reach. “C’mon, you’ve seen all my most embarrassing ones.”
“Oh please, yours aren’t even embarrassing, they’re just cute.”
You squint your eyes at him. “Liar.”
He doesn’t argue further, just opens another box and begins rifling through it. You continue on as well, though you pocket one or two of his baby photos to sneak a peak at later.
You both work with soft music playing in the background, occasionally stopping each other to get the other’s opinion on which pile an item belonged in. The next time you stopped him though, it was purely out of nostalgia.
“Oh look! It’s our old walkie-talkies.” He walks over to join you, turning one over in his hand like it’s a precious gem stone you had mined. He opens the back to find the batteries long corroded and clicks his tongue at the sight.
“You know what, I bet I have some AA’s upstairs.” You watch him take the steps two at a time and hear his boots thud against the floors above you.
You can vividly remember the night you discovered they still worked even with the distance between your houses and immediately began talking through them at all hours of the day. Most nights, you’d hide under your blanket, trying desperately to be quiet enough not to wake your sister sleeping in the bed beside yours, and waiting for John’s staticky voice to come through. You don’t even remember what the conversations were, but you do remember how every night before you went to bed, he would make you say, “over and out,” before turning it off. One night, instead of his prompted goodbye, you whispered, “arrivederci.” He didn’t get it, but you still fell asleep smiling.
“Okay,” he called on his way back down. “Moment of truth.”
He handed you one and the both of you turned the dial at the top to switch them on. They both beeped and you grinned at each other like idiots. Then, you changed to channel 5–because it was always channel 5–and tentatively spoke into the mic while pressing the button. When yours worked, he tried.
You spent the rest of the day only communicating through the walkie-talkies.
“Bruin to Birdie, I’ve spotted some potentially valuable dishware, over.” You even kept the same code names you used to use as kids. He’d been a Bruins fan ever since he was little, and now it didn’t seem that far off that someday soon he could actually be one.
“Birdie to Bruin, coming in to investigate, over.”
You only took a break when you were both ravenous and ordered pizza from the local place just a few minutes away.
You sat facing each other, on opposite ends of the living room with your backs against the wall. The pizza box laid open between you, the floppy paper plates already stained from the grease despite there being several pieces still left to be eaten.
“You know,” he said around the food in his mouth. He swallowed before continuing. “Our pizza nights at your house used to be my favorite as a kid.”
You laugh, wiping sauce from the edges of your mouth and licking your thumb that collected it. “They were entertaining, that’s for sure. I just remember fighting over who got to have the last piece of cheese. And Jules complaining that the grease from the pizza made their fingers slip and that was why they were awful at Mario Kart.”
He laughs full and loud at the memory. “Hey, they aren’t the only one fiercely competitive over Mario Kart.”
“I’m not competitive, I’m just good at it and no one wants to admit it,” you argue.
“Mhmm.” He watches you with a soft sort of expression, the smile never leaving his face. In fact, you’re not sure if it’s left his mouth at all today. Then, he looks as though he just remembered something important. “I think I have my old Gamecube somewhere.”
“At this rate, Logan, we’re never going to get this house ready.”
“That sounds like an excuse if I’ve ever heard one.”
“It’s not an excuse, I just don’t think we should be taking a Mario Kart break right now.”
“Oh, what? Are you scared I’ll beat you?” He goads you.
“No,” you say, trying your hardest to remain nonchalant.
“You outta practice? Worried you’re rusty?”
“No, I just think—“
“C’mon, Birdie.” You never could turn down a challenge. Especially one from him. When you rolled your eyes and sighed, he knew he had you.
You played into the late night, not stopping with just Mario Kart, either. When you started falling asleep sitting against the wall, watching him play Zelda, you decided to call it a night.
“I work at Malone’s until two tomorrow,” you told him from the porch, his shoulder pressed into the wood of the newly replaced doorframe across from you.
“Perfect, I open the garage tomorrow.”
“See you after?”
“See you after.”
It takes you a week to go through everything, the seven days passing by in metrics of Goodwill runs and heady moments that almost ended in your restraint snapping instead of hours. It’s like you forget when you’re away from him how it feels to be close. It didn’t use to feel this way. As kids, you used to be able to touch and laugh and it felt like how it did with your other friends. Now, it felt like every look meant something more and every touch ignited something.
On Monday, you’d found a sheet of old temporary tattoos that had Care Bears on them. You wet paper towels and took turns holding it against each other’s skin giddily. You watched him remove the film with such delicacy and then run his thumb over the top to ensure it doesn’t rub off and you have to suppress a shiver.
Tuesday, you painted the main floor bathroom and managed to get paint all over you. You were already in such close proximity, constantly bumping into each other as you worked to coat the space in a light blue, you felt as though even the chemical smell wasn’t enough to overpower the smell of John; his sweat, his body wash, his laundry detergent. You had to leave about an hour in to get some air. You hadn’t been out there five minutes before he joined you, looking down at you with an amused smirk, his eyes dancing over your face.
“What?” You questioned when his eyes locked on something on your cheek. Instead of responding, he licked his thumb and rubbed the paint off, his palm lingering behind your ear even when you were sure the mark was gone. “Thanks,” you’d practically croaked.
It felt like every day after that, he was using just about any excuse to touch you. Climbing a ladder? He was there to hold your hips and guide you. Handing him tools while he worked? He ensured your fingers brushed every time. Using an electric screwdriver for the first time? He was pressed to your back and guiding your arm with a hand over yours the entire time.
Your only respite was when John’s mom stopped by—which was once—and Jules, who stopped by more frequently, but their visits felt more like supervision and less like an extra set of hands for help.
By the time Friday rolls around again, the house is empty save for a few boxes and John’s toolbox he keeps using since he finds something new every minute he needs to fix up before it goes on the market. He seemed to be stalling, like he didn’t want the week to end, and whether that was due to the two of you hanging out like the old days, or not wanting to let go of his childhood home, you weren’t sure. You tried not to think about it too much.
You’re eating chinese food out of the takeout boxes on the floor when he utters words you genuinely never thought you’d hear from him.
“I’ve been talking to a therapist.”
You look up immediately, your beef and broccoli forgotten in your lap.
“And how’s that been?” You tread lightly.
He shrugs one shoulder, staring into his lo mein, chopsticks aimlessly poking around. “Good. Well, as good as that sort of thing can go. She’s nice and…I don’t know, it’s hard but it feels good, you know?”
“Yeah.” You do know. You’d begun therapy shortly after New Years, finally taking the leap after the events that evening, despite the fact that it had been on your to-do list for years.
“It feels nice to give up control for once. To admit I don’t have all the answers and let someone else tell me what to do.” You nod, though he’s still staring into his takeout box. “I’ve told her about you. And me.”
“Oh?” You go for casual, but you can hear the peaked interest evident in your own voice. “And what does she say?”
He laughs lightly through his nose and smiles a bit bitterly. “Probably the same thing you figured out a while ago.” He looks up at you then. “That I push you away because I don’t think I deserve you. Or happiness, or love. That I couldn’t let go of control for long enough to let you love me.”
You let his words hang between you, trying to think about what you want to say before you say it. “My therapist says that we’re all just doing the best we can with the cards we were dealt. And the luckiest of us are given some knowledge on how to play the game, but none of us know it all. And it isn’t about who’s at an advantage or disadvantage, it’s about who’s willing to ask for help. That’s always the first step, and you did it.”
He looks down again, a disbelieving sort of smile curving his lips.
“You know, for two kids who got very little to no guidance at all on how to navigate life, you and Jules seem to be doing alright for yourselves. You’ve both turned out to be wonderful people.”
“You’ve come this far without lying, Birdie. Let’s not start now.”
“I’m not,” you insist. “I’m not just saying it, I mean it. And that isn’t to say you’ve never made mistakes or are in any way perfect—“ he scoffs like it’s an understatement. “—But I always knew you were doing the best you could. You can’t get through life unscathed, no one can. And though we try our best, we hurt other people, it’s just what we do. And you recognizing you need help to lower the collateral damage? That’s growth.”
“You know,” he says after a moment. “I don’t know what higher power I have to thank for placing you in my life, but I owe them a lifetime of gratitude.”
You feel your cheeks heat as you avoid eye contact with him now.
“Can I say something I have no right to say?” You feel your stomach bottom out. You nod because you find you can’t talk suddenly. “I know I don’t deserve another chance. I know that I’ve fucked up more times than I can count, but I feel like I’m getting better. And if there’s any part of you that feels like maybe you could give me another chance, I promise, Birdie. I promise I will do everything in my power not to hurt you again. No more pushing you away, no more miscommunication. I can’t—…I don’t want to imagine my life without you in it.”
You swallow thickly, feeling your eyes prick with tears that you will away. “I’m so happy you feel that you’re getting better. It seems like it.” You smile softly, hoping he can see how earnest you’re being. “And this past week has been…wonderful. I’m always happier when you’re around. But…”
“Birdie.”
“No, please. Let me say it.” He looks heartbroken, but you hope he’ll understand. “I love you, John. I always have, I probably always will. But I need to prioritize loving me. And I think you should, too. I think we both deserve that.”
You watch tears fall down his cheeks, your heart breaking at the sight, but he nods.
When he walks you out, he hugs you at the front door, squeezing you tight to him, and you squeeze him back.
“For what it’s worth,” he whispers into your hair. “I love you too.”
1 year later
You were going to kill your mechanic.
Ever since you first got your car, you’d taken it to the Logan’s repair shop in town. They never charged you hardly anything for it, most times John just offering to fix it up for you right in your driveway. You could have continued taking it there—you probably should have. But a few years ago, when the interactions between you and John became too awkward to make the trip worth it, you decided to give Joe’s Automotive about twenty minutes outside of town a shot.
Joe did shitty work and he overcharged you, but it saved you your pride, and for some reason that was more valuable in the moment than your hard earned money. So yes, you should have just taken it to the Logan’s, but alas, you did not. And so, here you were, on the side of the road with your beloved 2003 Honda Pilot that keeps breaking down and making the kind of noises that were more fitting for a fifty-year smoker with a stoma.
Your thumb hovered over John Logan’s contact like one might hover over a nuclear button. It had been a while since you’d properly seen each other. You were amiable and offered a smile or wave, but you hadn’t exchanged actual words since last summer. And worst of all, you missed him. And calling, seeing him in person, it meant finding out whether he missed you.
You think to call Garrett, but he’s just about as useless when it comes to cars as you are. And besides, he was likely out with Hannah, and you would hate to interrupt their rare alone time.
Your thumb presses down on John’s number before you could talk yourself out of it and hold it up to your ear, counting the rings like a ticking bomb. You could picture him staring down at his phone, seeing your contact pop up and the deep furrow of his brows as he wondered why you would be calling him for the first time in a long time. He answers on the third ring.
“Everything okay?” He doesn’t waste time with greetings, he immediately figured that if you were calling, something would have to be wrong.
“I’m fine.” You hear his relieved exhale through the phone. “Big Blue, though…” he had been the one to nickname your car. It wasn’t overly imaginative, but it stuck.
“Where are you?”
Him and his beaten down truck were pulling in behind you within fifteen minutes. He’d even made you stay on the phone with him until he set eyes on you, like it wasn’t the middle of the day on a semi-busy back road. Neither of you spoke, you just listened to the sounds of his blinker turning on and off and the faint noise of the radio playing.
You had the hood popped open in preparation for him, and he wasted no time rounding your car and assessing the damage. He did nothing but look for a while, messing with certain cables and valves occasionally.
Then he said, “Big Blue and I are upset with you.” He throws you a smirk to ensure you know he’s kidding.
“Is that your official diagnosis? My car is on strike?”
“We had a good thing going, her and I, and you messed that all up by taking her to see some other guy.” He turns towards you, resting his hip against the front of your car.
You mirror him and cross your arms over your chest. “She understood. She’s a child of divorce, what was I supposed to do?”
“Let me have shared custody?” He suggests lightly. You roll your eyes and don’t even try to hide your smile. “Go grab my bag out of the truck,” he instructs you, turning back to face the hood.
“Bossy,” you mutter, but go to get the bag for him anyway.
You drop the heavy sack of tools onto the asphalt below and return to your previous position of leaning against the car while he works. You always forget how quickly you adjust to having him in your orbit again. It always seems to go this way; like no matter how much time has passed, the two of you fall back together like nothing ever changed.
“How’ve you been?” His hands are already black with grease and oil and you watch as they move.
“Good. Busy,” you answer truthfully. “How about you?”
“Good.” He sounds earnest. “Busy.” He shoots you a smile while his hands remain at work.
“I’m sorry I didn’t bring her by.”
He shrugs. “It’s alright. I understand.”
You watch him work in silence, almost hypnotized by how quick and capable he is. It takes him about twenty minutes before he steps back, wiping his dirty hands on a clean towel from his bag.
“Well, that should get you far enough to drive it to the shop. I’d like to take a look at her there, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” you agree quickly, nodding with more vigor than necessary.
“I’ll follow you over.” He nods in the direction of his car and slings his bag over his shoulder before heading that way.
You drop your car and then he offers to drive you home. The inside of his car smells like the pine air freshener swinging from his rear view mirror and him and it makes you a little dizzy.
By the time you reach your house, you’ve finally worked up the courage to say what you need to.
One last time, you tell yourself.
One last time, and then we’ll say goodbye. Forever.
“I miss you,” you blurt out suddenly, looking forward out the windshield instead of over at him. “And I know we’ve never really been on the same page when it came to this, but I’ve decided I’m tired of keeping things in because I’m afraid of what you’ll say. I’m happy. Really happy. I feel fulfilled and like I’ve got my shit somewhat together for the first time in my life, but the one part that always feels empty is the space that you used to fill. And I guess…” You finally look over at him, finding him already watching you. “I guess I just wanted to know if you miss me?”
His face is expressionless for longer than you’d like, but then it breaks into a smile, beautiful and genuine. “Of course I miss you, Birdie. I miss you every second you’re not with me. I miss you even when you are.”
You launch across the space between you and throw your arms around his neck. His hands slide around your waist to pull you closer to him, across the cab. When you pull back, you let your fingers thread through the soft strands at the back of his neck, his eyes drooping a little at the sensation.
“Can I kiss you?” He whispers, already staring at your lips.
You feel yourself smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”
The first time Johnny Sinclair met Y/n, she was standing knee-deep in the ocean holding a dead crab in both hands.
She couldn’t have been older than seven.
The tide pulled at her knees. Wind tangled her salt water curls across her face. She stared down at the crab with this awful kind of seriousness, like she thought maybe she’d interrupted something important.
“It washed up like this,” she said quietly.
Johnny had been halfway through a pack of watermelon candies, sunburnt across the nose and already impossible at that age. He squinted at her from farther up the beach.
“You’re weird.”
She looked up immediately.
“You’re loud.”
Johnny grinned at that, shameless.
“You’re supposed to say thank you. I came over here to help.”
“You came over here to be annoying.”
“I can do both.”
Y/n looked back down at the crab in her hands, expression softening again. “Stop being mean and help me bury the poor baby crab.”
Johnny stared at her for a second.
Then sighed dramatically and trudged farther into the water toward her. “Fine. But if we get haunted because of this, it’s your fault.”
That should’ve been it.
Instead, Johnny followed her down the shoreline while she searched for the perfect place to bury the crab, talking the entire time while she rolled her eyes at nearly everything he said.
After that, they became unavoidable.
Every summer folded the two of them together somehow.
Bare feet against hot docks. Saltwater drying on sunburnt shoulders. Late nights tangled into old Sinclair couches while storms rattled the windows outside Cuddledown. Johnny throwing himself off cliffs first because he liked hearing everyone scream after him. Y/n sitting wrapped in towels with library books gone soft from seawater.
The Liars grew up around each other like that.
Cady with her curiosity.
Mirren all glitter and trouble.
Gat watching everything quietly from the edges.
And Johnny.
Johnny, who always laughed a little too loud at inappropriate moments.
Johnny, who could make an entire room feel brighter until suddenly it didn’t.
He is bounce.
He is effort and snark.
Other times he was something sharper.
Most people only noticed the first part.
Y/n noticed both.
She noticed how his jokes got meaner when he was upset. The way he disappeared after arguments with his mother. How he always came back pretending nothing happened at all.
Johnny Sinclair could turn anything into a performance.
Except with her.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
By eighteen, things had started shifting in ways neither of them knew how to talk about.
Johnny noticed it the second she stepped off the boat that June.
The wind caught her hair instantly, soft waves lifting around her shoulders. She wore an oversized sweater despite the heat, sleeves pulled over her hands the way they always were when she’d been reading too long.
She looked up toward the dock.
Found him immediately.
And smiled.
It hit him somewhere directly in the ribs.
Johnny leaned back against the railing, sunglasses slipping down his nose. “Thought maybe you finally decided not to come back this year.”
“I had peace for almost three weeks. It was horrible.”
“That sounds difficult for you.”
“Worst experience of my life, honestly.”
He reached for one of her bags before she could stop him.
It weighed way too much.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “Did you pack bricks?”
“Books.”
“Which is somehow worse.”
She laughed under her breath and Johnny looked away for a second after hearing it, like he needed to recover from something.
Neither of them noticed Gat watching from farther down the dock.
Gat noticed everything.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
The others realized before they did.
Maybe because it was obvious.
Johnny always looked for her first in every room without meaning to.
And Y/n had this habit of drifting toward him naturally, like standing beside him happened automatically.
One afternoon, the Liars were spread around the pool while music played softly through the speaker next to the lounge chairs.
The heat pressed heavy over Beechwood.
Y/n floated lazily near the edge of the pool while Johnny sat nearby with his feet in the water, pretending not to smoke a cigarette he definitely wasn’t supposed to have.
“You look guilty,” Y/n told him.
Johnny glanced down at the cigarette. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“You literally hide it every time someone walks by.”
“That’s called strategy.”
“That’s called being bad at lying.”
He grinned despite himself.
She swam closer, pushing wet hair back from her face. “Race you.”
Johnny looked horrified. “Against you? Absolutely not.”
“Scared?”
“I’ve seen you swim. You move like some kind of haunted mermaid.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Before he could respond, she shoved off toward the other side of the pool.
“Oh, you’re evil,” Johnny called, diving in after her.
Water crashed around them.
Halfway across the pool, Johnny grabbed her ankle and pulled her backward through the water.
Y/n let out a loud gasp. “Johnny!”
“What?” he said innocently, already laughing.
“You can’t just cheat and expect no repercussions!”
“I absolutely can.”
She splashed water hard into his face.
Johnny sputtered immediately, wiping water from his eyes. “Okay, wow. Aggressive.”
“That’s what you deserve.”
“You’re acting like I committed a crime.”
“You dragged me underwater!”
“Correction,” Johnny said, swimming closer again, “I’m about to.”
Before she could move, he hooked an arm around her waist and dragged her under with him.
The water exploded around them.
Y/n resurfaced first, coughing out a laugh while shoving wet hair out of her face. “You’re unbelievable!”
Johnny surfaced right after her, grinning so hard he could barely breathe. “And yet I’m still winning.”
“You are the most annoying person alive.”
“Yeah, but you like me anyway.”
She splashed him again before trying to swim off, but Johnny caught her ankle a second time, laughing while she yelled at him through her own laughter.
By the time they reached the edge again, both of them were laughing hard enough to barely stay upright.
Later, Y/n stretched out across one of the lounge chairs next to Mirren and Cadence.
while Gat talked beside Johnny in the pool.
Johnny stopped listening halfway through the conversation.
Y/n’s shoulders were turning pink in the sun.
“You forgot sunscreen again,” he said.
Without opening her eyes, she answered, “I literally put some on earlier.”
“Clearly not enough.”
“I’m fine.”
“You say that every time right before looking like a boiled lobster.”
Mirren snorted from her chair nearby.
Cady lowered her sunglasses slowly, already smiling.
Johnny ignored both of them and hauled himself out of the pool.
“Hold still.”
Y/n cracked one eye open as he grabbed the sunscreen bottle from beside her chair.
“You are unbelievably dramatic.”
“And you are unbelievably bad at taking care of yourself.”
“That feels exaggerated.”
“It’s really not.”
He crouched beside her and rubbed sunscreen across her shoulders with absentminded care, still talking the entire time like this was completely normal.
Maybe it was.
Maybe that was the problem.
Gat watched them for a long moment before muttering, “This is painful.”
“Thank you,” Mirren whispered back. “I thought I was the only one suffering.”
Johnny looked up immediately. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” all three of them said at once.
Y/n pressed her face into her arms to hide her smile.
Johnny stared at her for a second too long before looking away.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Later that week, they shared the hammock tucked beneath the trees behind Clairmont.
It had always been theirs.
Y/n read while Johnny stretched out beside her, one arm tucked behind his head as the hammock swayed lazily in the summer breeze. Sunlight filtered through the leaves overhead, turning everything gold.
“What’re you reading?” Johnny asked after a while, voice quieter than usual.
Y/n glanced down at the page. “The Hunger Games.”
Johnny groaned dramatically. “Haven’t you read that book like fifty times already?”
“Some of us enjoy stories with emotional depth.”
“Oh, right. My bad.”
She nudged him lightly with her foot. “Not all of us find psychological warfare entertaining.”
Johnny looked offended. “I’m hilarious.”
“You’re deeply concerning.”
“Also true.”
The hammock shifted softly beneath them.
Somewhere farther down the beach, waves crashed against the rocks below the cliffs. The sound carried through the trees with the wind.
Johnny turned his head slightly, watching sunlight move across her face.
“Have you ever thought about leaving this place and never looking back?” he asked quietly.
Y/n looked up from her book almost immediately.
“Yeah,” she admitted softly. “Sometimes.”
Johnny stared up through the trees for a second. “I think I would.”
That made her look at him fully now.
He shrugged a little after saying it, like he already regretted letting the thought out loud.
“But,” Y/n said after a moment, folding the corner of her page carefully, “I’d always come back.”
Johnny looked away first after that.
Because Beechwood got into people slowly.
Salt in your lungs. Sunlight in your skin. The feeling that the island existed slightly outside the rest of the world.
Y/n wasn’t technically a Sinclair.
But somehow Beechwood belonged to her anyway.
Or maybe she belonged to it.
Johnny had never really been able to tell the difference.
And somewhere deep down, in a place he didn’t know how to name yet, he thought maybe one day she’d belong to him in that same impossible way too.
She smiled a little before settling deeper into the hammock, laying her legs across his without thinking about it.
Johnny’s hand rested absently against her knee like it belonged there.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
The outdoor shower happened after one of those unbearably hot July beach days where the air still clung to your skin long after sunset.
The Liars had stayed out for hours.
Swimming until their limbs ached.
Letting waves drag them under.
Throwing themselves into the ocean over and over like they were trying to outrun growing up.
By the time they finally headed back toward the houses, everyone was exhausted and covered in salt and sand.
Mirren and Cady walked ahead arguing about music while Gat disappeared somewhere behind them looking through a new book.
Johnny and Y/n lagged behind naturally.
They always did.
“You’ve got sand literally everywhere,” Y/n laughed, glancing over at him.
Johnny looked down at himself in mock horror. “You tackled me.”
“You deserved it.”
“For what?”
“For existing near me aggressively.”
“That feels targeted.”
He bumped his shoulder lightly against hers anyway, smearing more sand across her arm.
Y/n groaned. “Johnny.”
“This is your fault now too.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Thank you.”
By the time they reached the outdoor shower beside Cuddledown, the sky had darkened into soft blue twilight.
The wooden boards beneath their feet were still warm from the sun.
Y/n stepped under the water first.
It sputtered violently before turning ice cold.
“Oh my god—”
She jerked back immediately, laughing despite herself.
Johnny grinned from beside her. “That was embarrassing to watch.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re losing a fight against water.”
“It attacked me first.”
Johnny laughed softly before stepping beneath the spray beside her anyway.
Water ran down his shoulders, soaking his curls until they fell into his eyes.
Y/n looked away too slowly.
Johnny noticed immediately.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
The word landed differently than it usually did.
Quieter.
Closer.
For a second neither of them moved.
Water dripped steadily around them while somewhere farther down the beach waves crashed against the shore.
Johnny absently brushed the sand from her bicep where he’d bumped into her moments before.
The touch lingered longer than it should have.
Y/n felt her breath catch before she could stop it.
Johnny’s eyes lifted to hers instantly.
Something shifted.
Not sudden.
Not dramatic.
Just impossible to ignore now.
“Johnny…” she said softly.
His hand slid carefully to her waist like he was testing whether she’d pull away.
She didn’t.
His eyes flicked down toward her mouth before back to her eyes again.
“Tell me to stop,” he said quietly.
Y/n’s heart was beating hard enough to hurt.
But the truth had been sitting between them for years already.
Neither of them had just said it out loud before.
“I don’t think I can,” she admitted.
For a second, Johnny just stared at her.
Like he hadn’t actually expected her to say it.
Johnny looked almost surprised by the answer.
Then nervous.
Which somehow made it worse.
Or better.
He lifted one hand slowly, brushing damp hair back from her face before resting his fingers carefully against her cheek.
Tentative.
Like he was still giving her time to change her mind.
Then he kissed her.
Softly at first.
Careful enough that it felt like both of them were holding their breath.
A lifetime of friendship balancing on the edge of something neither of them knew how to survive.
Y/n kissed him back almost immediately.
One of her hands slipped into his wet curls while his moved around her waist, pulling her a little closer beneath the running water.
The kiss deepened slowly after that.
Not rushed.
Just months and years of tension finally unraveling all at once.
Johnny let out a quiet breath against her mouth that almost sounded like a laugh, like he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
Y/n smiled into the kiss for half a second before kissing him again.
This time Johnny kissed her harder.
Still careful somehow, but less hesitant now.
Like the second he realized she wasn’t pulling away, he forgot how to hold himself back anymore.
One of his hands slid up beside her head against the wooden wall, fingers tangling instinctively with hers for half a second while the other tightened at her waist, pulling her closer beneath the running water.
The water echoed around them, loud enough to drown out everything except their uneven breathing.
Johnny’s mouth drifted from hers to her jaw, pressing a slow kiss there before another just beneath it, lingering for a second against the side of her neck.
Y/n’s breath caught as her head tipped back lightly against the wood, her hands tightening instinctively in his damp curls while Johnny let out a quiet breath against her skin like he was already losing composure.
For a second she felt completely unsteady in his hands, like every thought in her head had dissolved beneath the warmth of his mouth against her neck.
Johnny shifted forward without thinking, nearly losing his footing against the wet wood before catching himself against the wall beside her at the last second.
Both of them broke apart laughing under their breath.
“Smooth,” Y/n whispered.
“Yeah, I had that completely under control.”
“You almost wiped out.”
“I was overwhelmed.”
She shook her head, still smiling, but neither of them moved away this time.
Johnny rested his forehead lightly against hers, both of them still catching their breath.
Water streamed around them, completely forgotten.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he admitted quietly.
Then, almost immediately, he let out a nervous laugh and looked away for a second. “Wow. That sounded significantly cooler in my head.”
Y/n laughed softly, eyes dropping for a moment before finding his again.
“Good,” she said.
Johnny blinked. “Good?”
“Means I’m not the only one.”
That shut him up for maybe the first time in his life.
Afterward, they finished washing the salt and sand off in near silence.
Not awkward.
Not normal either.
Something in between.
Something changed.
And both of them felt it.
By the time they walked back toward Cuddledown, the island had gone quiet around them.
Windows glowed warmly through the trees.
Music drifted faintly from somewhere farther down the beach.
The air smelled like saltwater and sunscreen and distant smoke from fireworks somewhere across the mainland.
Johnny walked close enough that their hands brushed once.
Then again.
Neither of them mentioned it.
When they reached the porch steps, they lingered there longer than necessary, both pretending they didn’t know how to end the night anymore.
“Goodnight,” Y/n said finally.
Johnny nodded once, looking at her like he was still trying to process something.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Night.”
She disappeared inside first.
Johnny stayed outside for another minute after the door closed, ocean wind moving through the trees around him.
Everything felt different now.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
The Fourth of July parties on Beechwood had a reputation for getting out of hand.
Mostly because of people like Johnny Sinclair.
Rich college kids poured off boats carrying expensive liquor, laughing too loudly as they stumbled across the beach, the smell of weed, saltwater, sunscreen, and smoke clinging to the humid night air.
The party stretched from Red Gate to Cuddledown in scattered pockets of light and noise. Coolers sat half-buried in the sand while people sprawled across docks, driftwood, and towels damp from the ocean. Music thundered faintly from distant speakers, vibrating through the ground beneath the chaos like another heartbeat.
The beach itself was mostly darkness broken by bonfires flickering in uneven circles, sparklers hissing in restless hands, fireworks cracking open over the water in bursts of red, blue and gold. Farther back on the island, the Sinclair houses watched silently through the trees, porch lights glowing faintly against the dark.
Johnny thrived in places like this.
Drifting between conversations.
Laughing too loud.
Stealing drinks that weren’t his.
Getting pulled into groups he never stayed in for very long.
But his attention kept snapping back to Y/n anyway.
Like it always did.
She stood out to him even here, swallowed by firelight and noise.
Her hair blew loose in the salty wind, sticking briefly to her cheeks before the breeze pulled it free again. A thin white sundress hung over her bikini as she danced barefoot in the sand beside Mirren, flushed and visibly drunk now, laughing hard enough she could barely stay upright.
Johnny smiled without meaning to.
Then he noticed the guy beside her.
A stranger.
One hand resting low on her waist while he leaned down too close to say something in her ear.
Johnny’s expression changed almost immediately.
Beside him, Gat noticed.
“Oh no,” Gat muttered.
Johnny barely looked away from her. “What?”
“You’re staring again.”
“I’m literally just standing here.”
“Yeah,” Gat said dryly. “And somehow you still look homicidal.”
Johnny scoffed, but his jaw tightened anyway.
Down near the shoreline, Y/n burst into laughter at something the guy whispered to her, stumbling slightly as his hands tightened at her waist to steady her.
Johnny went quiet.
Not angry yet.
Just tense in that dangerous, still kind of way.
“Johnny,” Cadence warned from somewhere behind them, already noticing the shift.
But Johnny was already moving.
By the time he reached them, Y/n was still laughing, one hand loosely gripping the guy’s arm to steady herself.
“Hey,” Johnny said, stepping beside her.
Y/n looked up at him slowly. “Johnny.”
“I think you’ve had enough.”
She frowned slightly. “I’m fine.”
“You can barely stand.”
“That’s dramatic.”
Y/n immediately lost her balance trying to turn toward him.
Johnny caught her elbow before she could fall.
The guy beside her laughed. “She’s good, man.”
Johnny’s eyes finally lifted to him fully.
“Yeah,” he said flatly. “I know she is.”
The guy didn’t move his hand from her waist.
If anything, his grip tightened slightly.
Something cold flickered across Johnny’s face.
“She’s coming with me,” he said.
Y/n blinked between them, finally starting to realize something weird was happening.
“She can decide that herself,” the guy shot back.
Johnny laughed once under his breath, but there wasn’t anything amused about it.
“You don’t even know her.”
“And you do?”
Before Johnny could answer, the guy shoved him first.
Hard enough that Y/n stumbled sideways between them.
She hit the sand awkwardly, more startled than hurt.
Everything after that happened too fast.
Johnny barely caught himself before shoving the guy back harder.
The crowd around them erupted instantly.
Voices shouting.
People turning toward the noise.
Music still pounding somewhere farther down the beach like the night hadn’t noticed yet.
“Johnny, stop—”
Gat was already pushing through the crowd as the guy lunged forward again.
Johnny swung first this time.
Not controlled.
Not clean.
Just angry.
The guy stumbled backward into the sand, blood already bright against his mouth before Johnny grabbed at him again.
They crashed hard into the ground, Johnny shoving him back into the sand before landing another hit that snapped the guy’s head sideways.
Someone nearby shouted.
Johnny barely heard it.
Everything had happened too fast after that.
The shove. The crowd suddenly shouting around them. Adrenaline hitting all at once before Johnny could think through any of it.
By the time he hit him again, every sharp rush of anger had already crashed together into something reckless.
The guy tried to shove him off, but Johnny caught the front of his shirt and hit him again, sand sticking to both of them as the other guy’s nose started bleeding harder.
“Johnny—”
“Back off,” Johnny snapped without even looking away.
The guy muttered something under his breath that only made Johnny angrier—“She didn’t look like she was saying no to me”—and Johnny lunged toward him again before two hands finally grabbed hard onto his shoulders.
“Enough,” Gat snapped, dragging him backward before Johnny could swing again.
For a second Johnny resisted.
Still breathing hard.
Jaw tight.
Eyes locked on the guy like he wasn’t done yet.
Then Cady’s voice cut through everything.
“Johnny.”
He turned immediately.
Y/n was sitting upright now with Cady crouched beside her, sand clinging to her legs and a small cut just above her eyebrow.
Johnny’s expression changed instantly.
The fight stopped mattering.
He pulled away from Gat without another word, dragging one hand through his curls as his breathing slowly steadied.
Behind them, the guy was already being pulled away by his friends, muttering more somethings under his breath while blood dripped from his split lip.
Johnny barely looked at him.
Instead, he walked straight toward Y/n.
Slower this time.
The adrenaline still sat sharp beneath his skin, cuts stinging across his knuckles and cheekbone, but none of it seemed important anymore.
He crouched slightly in front of her.
“You’re going home,” he said.
Not harsh.
Just certain.
Y/n blinked up at him, still dazed enough that her words blurred together slightly. “Johnny, I’m okay—”
“You’re bleeding,” he said quietly.
That shut her up.
Johnny stood, then offered her his hand like it was the most normal thing in the world.
This time, Y/n took it.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
They left the beach in silence at first, the noise of the party fading behind them until it became nothing more than distant music and the steady crash of waves.
The path toward Cuddledown cut through darker stretches of sand and wind-tangled grass, everything quieter away from the bonfires.
Y/n drifted slightly off the path after a few steps before correcting herself with a quiet laugh.
Johnny tightened his grip on her hand automatically, steadying her before she could trip again.
“Your face is messed up,” she said after a minute, squinting up at him like she was trying to focus properly.
Johnny let out a tired breath of a laugh. “Yeah? You should see the other guy.”
“That’s not funny.”
The words came out softer than serious.
A few steps later she stumbled again, catching herself against his arm.
Johnny looked over at her.
Then at the uneven sand ahead of them.
Then back at her.
“Okay,” he said finally. “You’re done walking.”
“I am walking.”
“You’re actively losing a fight with the ground.”
“That feels dramatic.”
She nearly tripped again immediately after saying it.
Johnny snorted once under his breath before shifting his grip and lifting her over his shoulder in one smooth motion.
“Johnny—”
“You had your chance.”
She laughed despite herself, one hand loosely gripping the back of his shirt as he kept walking.
“I was doing fine.”
“You almost face-planted three separate times.”
“Allegedly.”
The ocean stretched dark beside them while the trees swayed softly overhead, shadows moving across the narrow path.
After a minute, Y/n’s voice came quieter against his shoulder.
“Your face is still messed up.”
Johnny huffed a laugh. “You seem really focused on that.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“So are you.”
“I know.” She paused. “Yours looks worse though.”
Johnny adjusted his grip slightly against her legs as he walked.
“The fight?” she asked after another second.
“Mm.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
Y/n lifted her head slightly. “But?”
Johnny exhaled slowly through his nose.
“But I couldn’t stand there and watch him touch you like that.”
The honesty slipped out before he could stop it.
“And then he shoved you.”
His jaw tightened briefly after saying it, like he was trying not to let himself get angry all over again.
Y/n stayed quiet for a second.
“I had it handled,” she mumbled eventually.
“I know,” Johnny said immediately, softer this time. “I know you did.”
The porch light at Cuddledown appeared through the trees ahead of them.
Warm against the dark.
After another few steps, Y/n let out a sleepy laugh.
“Still,” she slurred, “you didn’t have to get yourself beat up over it.”
Johnny smiled faintly to himself, adjusting her slightly higher against his shoulder.
“Probably would’ve done it anyway.”
By the time they reached the porch, the island had gone mostly quiet around them.
Johnny pushed open the front door and finally set her carefully back on her feet inside.
She immediately leaned sideways.
He caught her automatically, hands settling at her waist to steady her while she laughed softly against his shoulder.
Johnny shook his head once.
“You are an actual disaster.”
She smiled tiredly, still leaning against him while he looked down at the small cut above her eyebrow again.
His own lip was split.
Knuckles scraped raw.
Bruising already darkening along his cheekbone.
None of that seemed to matter to him nearly as much.
Y/n reached up carefully toward the cut near his eyebrow.
“You look worse than me,” she whispered.
Johnny caught her wrist gently before she could press too hard against it.
“You have blood on your face.”
She blinked slowly like she’d forgotten.
“Oh.”
Something in Johnny’s expression softened for half a second.
He moved her arm over his shoulders again.
“Come on,” he said quietly. “Let me clean that up before you fall asleep standing here.”
She laughed under her breath as he guided her toward the stairs.
The old steps creaked beneath them.
Halfway up, she missed one entirely and stumbled hard enough into him that both of them nearly lost balance.
Johnny caught her quickly, hand tightening at her side.
“Easy.”
She was still smiling against his shoulder like the whole thing was funny.
Johnny tried not to smile back.
“This is deeply inconvenient for me, by the way.”
Her eyes lifted toward him lazily. “You carried me all the way here.”
“Yeah, because your coordination is offensive.”
That got another laugh out of her.
By the time they reached her room, both of them looked exhausted.
Johnny sat her carefully on the edge of the bed before stepping back slightly.
“Stay sitting,” he said. “Please. I’ve had a long night.”
She grinned up at him immediately.
“You love me.”
The words were careless.
Automatic.
Something she’d probably said a hundred times growing up.
But Johnny froze anyway.
Just for a second.
Then he looked away first, jaw shifting slightly before he forced a crooked smile.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “You make it hard not to.”
Y/n only smiled sleepily at him, too tired to notice the weight behind it.
Johnny stepped backward before he said something worse.
“Don’t move,” he said, already turning toward the door. “I’m getting water.”
From the bed, her voice followed him softly.
“You are the problem, by the way.”
Johnny laughed quietly somewhere down the hallway.
“Still beat his ass, though.”
A few minutes later, Johnny returned with a glass of water and a washcloth draped over one shoulder.
The door shut softly behind him.
Y/n was still exactly where he’d left her, swaying slightly where she sat on the edge of the mattress.
Johnny looked relieved about that for some reason.
“Good,” he said automatically. “You’re still upright.”
He crossed the room and set the water down beside her before crouching slightly in front of her again.
The teasing faded from his face the second he looked at the cut above her eyebrow.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “Hold still.”
He tilted her chin up gently with his fingers before pressing the damp cloth carefully against her skin.
Y/n flinched.
Johnny’s expression changed instantly.
“Hey,” he said softly. “I know. Just give me a second.”
And she did.
The room stayed quiet except for the occasional sound of the ocean outside and the soft creak of the house settling around them.
Johnny focused harder than necessary while cleaning the cut, brows pulled together slightly like he could somehow undo the entire night if he concentrated enough.
When he finished, he didn’t pull away immediately.
His eyes flicked over her face once more, checking for anything he missed.
Then he noticed the makeup smudged faintly beneath one of her eyes.
Johnny hesitated.
“Hold on.”
He used the clean corner of the washcloth to wipe gently beneath her eye.
Slow.
Careful.
The movement made Y/n’s breathing catch slightly.
Johnny noticed.
That was the problem.
He noticed everything with her.
The room suddenly felt smaller than it had a minute ago.
Too quiet.
Too close.
Y/n’s eyes stayed fixed on his face while he worked, softer now, more focused than before.
Johnny cleared his throat quietly and stepped back a little too quickly once he finished.
“Alright,” he said, voice suddenly more casual than before. “Crisis contained.”
Y/n smiled faintly.
Johnny looked away first.
“Where are your pajamas?” he asked, already turning toward her dresser before the silence could settle too heavily between them.
“You always keep them in the same drawer, right?”
She nodded tiredly from the bed.
Johnny opened the drawer and grabbed the oversized tank top and soft sleep shorts she always wore during movie nights.
Then he turned around immediately the second she reached for the hem of her shirt.
Behind him came the rustle of fabric.
Then silence.
Then a loud thud.
Johnny closed his eyes briefly. “Impressive.”
“I’m stuck,” Y/n announced somewhere behind him.
He turned around to find her halfway tangled in the tank top, balancing badly while trying to step into the shorts at the same time.
Johnny laughed despite himself, already walking back over.
“You survived that entire party and this is what takes you out?”
“Help.”
The single exhausted word softened something in him immediately.
Johnny pulled the shirt down properly over her head before steadying her when she nearly tipped sideways again.
A strand of damp hair had fallen across her face, and he reached up without thinking, tucking it gently behind her ear.
“Careful.”
“I am being careful.”
Johnny glanced at her.
“You’re wearing your shorts incorrectly.”
A pause.
“That feels judgmental.”
Johnny snorted quietly, already crouching slightly to help untangle the fabric around her knees.
He didn’t answer that.
Once she was finally changed, he pulled the blankets over her while she settled sleepily into the pillows.
Johnny should’ve left then.
He knew that.
But the second he reached toward the lamp, Y/n’s hand caught loosely around his wrist.
“Stay until I fall asleep.”
She said it like it was obvious he would.
Like there had never really been another option.
Johnny looked down at her for a second without answering.
Then he sighed quietly through his nose and sat back down beside her.
He told himself it was because she was exhausted.
Because she’d been drinking.
Because someone should probably make sure she didn’t wander downstairs half-asleep later.
Any excuse sounded safer than the truth.
When he finally laid down beside her, keeping what he thought was a reasonable amount of space between them, it lasted maybe three seconds.
Y/n curled against him immediately.
Instinct.
Her head tucked beneath his chin while one hand bunched lightly in the front of his shirt.
Johnny froze for half a heartbeat before his hand moved carefully into her hair, gently working loose a few knots left behind from the ocean wind.
Her breathing slowly evened out after that.
Sleep came easy for her.
Not for him.
Johnny stayed awake long after the room had gone quiet, staring up at the ceiling while the ocean moved faintly outside.
His face hurt.
His knuckles stung.
There was dried blood still sitting near the corner of his mouth.
None of it seemed important anymore.
Because all he could think about was how naturally she fit against him.
And how dangerously easy it would be to get used to it
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Morning came in pieces — sunlight slipping through the white curtains, the distant crash of waves against the rocks, and the warm summer breeze drifting through the open window.
Along with a headache bad enough to make Y/n groan before she even opened her eyes.
She shifted slightly, immediately realizing two things.
One: she was still in her bed.
She could feel breathing against the back of her shoulder.
Two: someone’s arm was around her waist.
Her eyes flew open.
For one horrible second, her entire body went tense as she realized her best friend was pressed warm against her back, one arm draped lazily over her like this was the most normal thing in the world.
She moved too fast trying to turn around, and Johnny made a sleepy noise behind her before blinking awake.
He looked disoriented for a second, curls a mess, bruises from last night still scattered across his face.
Then his eyes landed on hers.
Y/n stared at him.
“Did we—”
Johnny’s expression changed instantly, immediately understanding where her brain had gone.
“Nothing happened,” he said quickly.
Then, quieter:
“You just asked me to stay.”
She let out a breath so dramatic he almost laughed.
Johnny pushed himself up onto one elbow, looking equally offended and amused.
“Wow,” he muttered. “Good morning to you too.”
Y/n buried her face in her pillow for a second. “I just woke up hungover and you were spooning me. You can see where I got concerned.”
That actually made him grin.
“Yeah, because clearly I’m the one who trapped you. You practically turned into a koala the second you fell asleep.”
She narrowed her eyes at him weakly, but it didn’t last long with her head pounding like this.
Johnny noticed immediately.
“You okay?”
“I feel like I got hit by a truck.”
“Deserved.”
That earned him a look. “How embarrassing was I last night?”
Johnny hesitated just long enough for her to groan.
“Oh no. That bad?”
He was trying not to laugh now. “You were a little gone.”
Y/n frowned, slowly trying to piece the night back together.
Music.
Firelight.
Someone pressing another drink into her hand.
Laughing too hard at something she couldn’t fully remember.
Then her eyes landed fully on him.
The split lip.
The bruising along his cheekbone.
His knuckles darkening purple.
Her expression changed instantly.
She forgot her own headache and moved closer before he could stop her, gently taking one of his hands.
“Johnny,” she said quietly. “What happened to you?”
He glanced down like he’d forgotten his face looked like that.
Then it came back in fragments—shouting, someone grabbing at her waist, his own voice sharp enough to cut through the noise.
Her brows pulled together.
“Wait,” she said slowly. “Was there a fight?”
Johnny leaned back against the headboard like it barely mattered.
“It was nothing.”
Y/n looked up at him, not buying it for a second, still holding his hand carefully as she turned it over in hers.
“You’re hurt.”
His mouth almost twitched.
The cut above her eyebrow was still visible, and somehow she was still acting like he was the one who needed taking care of.
“You were bleeding too, remember?”
She ignored that, lifting her hand toward the bruise near his cheek.
Johnny went very still.
Her fingers barely brushed his skin, but he felt it anyway.
“Does this hurt?” she asked softly.
Johnny looked at her for a second before answering.
“No.”
She gave him a look that made it clear she knew he was lying.
He sighed quietly through his nose.
“Some guy got handsy,” he admitted. “You were too drunk to notice. I noticed.”
Y/n blinked.
“You fought him because of me?”
Johnny shrugged, trying for casual and missing it completely.
“He was being an ass.”
A quiet pause settled between them.
She was still holding his hand.
Then, because neither of them knew how to sit in sincerity for very long, Johnny glanced over at her again.
“You know,” he said, “you kept insisting you could walk.”
Y/n frowned immediately. “I could walk.”
Johnny just raised an eyebrow.
She stopped.
“…I couldn’t walk, could I?”
He laughed under his breath. “Not even a little. You nearly fell off the porch steps and got mad at me about it.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “I did not.”
“You absolutely did,” Johnny said, enjoying this way too much now. “You told me I was being dramatic while I was literally holding you upright.”
Y/n covered her face with both hands.
“Please stop talking.”
Johnny grinned lazily against the headboard.
“You also kept insisting your eyebrow wasn’t bleeding while there was very obvious blood on your face.”
She peeked through her fingers, looking genuinely horrified now.
“I hate everything.”
“No,” Johnny said easily. “You were kind of funny.”
She shoved his shoulder weakly.
“You’re awful.”
“And yet,” he said, glancing meaningfully down toward where she was still holding his bruised hand, “you let me stay.”
That shut her up immediately.
Right as a knock sounded against the door.
Neither of them moved.
Then the door swung open and Cadence walked in with Gat right behind her.
Both of them stopped instantly.
Y/n was still sitting close enough that her knee touched Johnny’s, his arm still half-draped behind her from where he’d been lying just minutes before.
And somehow they both immediately looked far guiltier than they should have.
Cady’s eyebrows lifted so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline.
Gat’s grin spread slowly.
“Well,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “This is interesting.”
Johnny immediately pulled his arm back and sat up straighter.
“Shut up.”
That only made Cady grin wider.
“No seriously,” she said. “Should we come back after your secret married life discussion?”
Y/n grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at her.
Cady laughed and ducked out of the way.
“Nothing happened,” Y/n said too quickly.
Gat and Cady exchanged a look that made it worse.
“Hey, no judgment,” Gat said, raising his hands. “We just came to say beach after breakfast. Chicken.”
Johnny rubbed a tired hand over his face.
“You barged in here just to announce shoulder violence?”
“Correct,” Cady said immediately. “Ten minutes. Don’t be weird.”
Then both of them disappeared back out the door still grinning like idiots.
The second it shut, silence filled the room again.
Y/n looked at Johnny.
Johnny looked at Y/n.
And both of them started laughing.
She shook her head while climbing carefully out of bed.
“Great. They’re never letting that go.”
“Never.”
Johnny stood too, stretching slightly before immediately wincing because apparently bruised ribs existed now.
Y/n noticed instantly.
Johnny pointed at her before she could say anything.
“Don’t.”
She rolled her eyes.
Johnny moved toward the door, pausing with one hand on the knob.
“I’m gonna get ready,” he said. “Meet you at the beach?”
She nodded.
Then hesitated.
“Johnny.”
He turned back toward her.
Before she could overthink it, Y/n crossed the room quickly and wrapped her arms around him in a short, tight hug.
Johnny froze completely.
Her voice came quieter against him.
“Thank you. For last night.”
For carrying her.
For staying.
For taking care of her.
For fighting for her before she’d even realized she needed someone to.
Johnny felt his face go warm almost instantly.
Which annoyed him deeply.
He covered it the only way he knew how.
Johnny wrapped one arm around her long enough to squeeze her back before pulling away and flicking lightly at the side of her head.
“You’re still a pain in the ass, just so you know.”
Y/n smiled at him then — small and soft and real.
The kind she only gave when she meant something and didn’t quite know how to say it out loud.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I know.”
Neither of them moved for a second.
Johnny smiled before he could stop himself.
Then he ducked out the door before she could notice how badly that hug had knocked the air out of him, shutting it behind him as he headed down the hallway still grinning like an idiot.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Downstairs at Cuddledown, the kitchen was quiet. Y/n pulled together the easiest thing she could manage—toast and fruit she mostly picked at instead of ate. The house still carried the usual beach-day noise through the open windows: distant laughter, doors slamming somewhere upstairs, someone yelling from outside near the beach path.
She rinsed her plate, went back upstairs, and stood in front of her drawer longer than she should’ve.
Then she reached for her bikini.
The one she wore every summer because it fit best, and definitely not because she’d caught Johnny looking at it enough times over the years that she’d noticed.
Her fingers stayed on the strap a second too long.
It was the same one she’d been wearing in the outdoor shower. The one from that stupid moment she kept trying not to replay—water running around them, his hands laced with hers above her head, the pause before they kissed like neither of them had meant to until it happened.
Y/n pulled it from the drawer, trying not to think about the way he’d looked at her after. Or the party. Or the way he’d carried her home like it was nothing. The way he’d laid beside her last night and stayed when he could’ve left. The way everything between them had felt slightly off ever since—not broken, just shifted enough that she noticed every time he looked at her too long or stood too close.
He’d still teased everyone this morning. Still acted like Johnny. And she was grateful for that, even if they were both pretending harder than usual. Because whatever had changed between them was there now, quiet and impossible to ignore, and neither of them seemed ready to say it out loud.
She shook the thoughts from her head and changed quickly before heading down the path toward the beach.
The second she came into view, all four of them looked up.
Cadence smiled immediately, like she’d been waiting.
Gat looked between her and Johnny, already entertained.
Mirren tilted her head. “I feel like I’ve arrived halfway through a conversation.”
“I’ll fill you in later,” Cady said, grinning.
Johnny was standing knee-deep in the water.
He looked at Y/n once.
Then immediately looked away.
That should not have made her as aware of herself as it did.
“Are we playing or just standing here being weird?” Y/n asked, dropping her towel onto the sand.
“Chicken,” Cady said. “We were waiting.”
Mirren pointed at them all. “I’m referee. Nobody here can be trusted.”
“That’s dramatic,” Johnny said.
“It’s accurate,” Mirren replied.
No one argued.
The teams formed without discussion.
Johnny and Y/n.
Cadence and Gat.
The sun warmed their shoulders as Mirren blew an imaginary whistle. “First round: chicken. First to fall loses.”
Johnny’s eyes flickered to Y/n. She met his glance for a heartbeat before he looked away again, shifting in the water.
“Ready?” she called.
Cadence laughed. “Oh, we’re ready.”
Gat smirked. “This is going to be fun.”
Chaos hit instantly.
Water flying. Laughter turning into yelling. Gat nearly going under when Cadence leaned too far laughing. Johnny adjusting instinctively beneath Y/n every time she shifted, his grip steady at her legs without thinking.
Being this close to him made it harder to ignore everything else.
The way he held her. The sound of his breath just beneath her. The way he didn’t let her slip even once.
Then Cadence leaned too far again during a laugh and took Gat with her in a messy crash of limbs and water.
Silence broke for half a second.
Then Mirren threw both arms up. “Winner. Again. You all suck.”
Johnny laughed, still holding Y/n steady as she nearly slipped from laughing too hard.
The game eased out—saltwater, noise, chaos fading.
Johnny crouched so she could climb down.
She slid carefully, but her foot caught uneven sand beneath the water and she wobbled.
She reached for him immediately.
Johnny caught her at the waist without hesitation.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then he grinned.
That familiar reckless one that always meant trouble.
He lifted his hand between them.
Y/n laughed and slapped her palm into his.
The handshake started—same one they’d had since they were kids, half changed every summer.
But before they finished it, Johnny suddenly shifted his grip.
“Johnny—”
Too late.
He dragged her sideways straight into the incoming wave.
Y/n screamed as it crashed over her.
She resurfaced sputtering, pushing wet hair from her face while Johnny doubled over laughing.
She lunged at him immediately.
He tried to back up still laughing, but she caught him around the waist and pulled him down with her.
They went under in a tangle of limbs and saltwater.
When they came up again, both were breathless with laughter.
Gat shook his head. “You two are actually insane.”
Cadence laughed beside him. “You win and immediately start a war.”
Johnny wiped water from his eyes. “You’re just mad you lost.”
He pulled Y/n upright again before another wave hit.
“Gat, you were literally on the losing team,” Y/n said. “You don’t get to comment.”
They started walking back side by side, water dragging at their legs while the others faded behind them.
Johnny bumped his shoulder into hers. Casual.
Then again—slightly more deliberate.
Testing.
She bumped him back.
That was enough for him to grin wider.
By the time they reached the towels and cooler near the sand, Johnny finally let the act of being normal slip just slightly—hands pushing through his wet curls, shaking saltwater loose like he hadn’t spent the whole walk provoking her on purpose.
“You’re soaking everything,” Cadence called after them, dropping onto her towel.
Johnny glanced at Y/n like it was somehow her fault and kicked sand lightly toward her feet. “She started it.”
It wasn’t true. Everyone knew it.
That somehow made it worse.
Y/n scoffed, dropping onto her towel and brushing sand from her legs while Cadence rolled her eyes like this was already getting exhausting.
Gat flopped down beside them, reaching straight into the cooler. “You’re both impossible.”
“Thank you,” Johnny said, like it was a compliment, sitting down beside Y/n in the sand.
Mirren dropped onto her towel with a dramatic sigh. “I need food before I witness any more crimes.”
The cooler popped open, and just like that, the energy softened—chips being passed around, melting popsicles, half-forgotten snacks scattered across towels under the heavy afternoon sun.
Y/n sat with her knees tucked up, picking salt from chips while sand clung to her skin as she dried.
Johnny sat beside her—close enough that their shoulders kept almost brushing whenever either of them shifted, neither moving away from it.
At one point, he bumped her shoulder again as he reached toward the cooler.
Not an accident this time.
She looked at him.
Cadence noticed immediately.
She leaned back on her elbows. “So. Slept well?”
Johnny’s head snapped up. “Don’t start.”
Gat laughed into his soda. “He did. Very cozy, from what I heard.”
Y/n nearly choked.
Mirren sat upright. “What.”
Cadence lit up. “Oh my god—you’re both impossible.”
Johnny groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “No. Stop.”
Mirren ignored him. “Tell me everything.”
Cadence leaned forward, delighted. “Okay, so Johnny spent the night in Y/n’s room.”
Mirren’s jaw dropped.
Gat lost it laughing.
Cadence continued, grinning. “And this morning we walked in and they were still there—just sitting up in bed, completely tangled together, talking like it was the most normal thing in the world.”
Mirren made a sound somewhere between shock and outrage
Johnny immediately scooped up a handful of sand and threw it at Gat.
“It was not like that.”
Gat leaned back laughing harder. “Sure.”
Mirren’s eyes narrowed slowly, like she was solving something. Then she smiled.
“Oh, this is worse. It’s definitely something.”
Y/n threw a chip at her.
“I was drunk,” she said quickly.
Mirren only laughed.
The teasing didn’t stop after that—it stretched across towels, snacks, and sunburned skin until even Johnny gave up denying anything and just started threatening everyone equally.
By sunset, everything had gone quiet in that tired, sun-heavy way.
Cadence stretched out. “Movie night at Cuddledown. Shower first. All of you smell awful.”
Gat groaned. “Your movie choices are criminal.”
“They’re art.”
“They’re all sad,” Johnny said.
“They’re art,” Cadence said. “You’ll survive.”
Johnny looked at Y/n then—just for a second.
The chaos around them kept moving, but he didn’t.
“You coming?”
Simple question.
Still not simple at all.
And when she looked at him, she already knew tonight would feel different too.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
stay tuned for a part 2 on the way VERY soon
thank you for reading!! please like and comment if you enjoyed and dm me if you have any request!
tomorrow I'll be posting the first part to my bsf to lovers Johnny Sinclair fic so stay tuned!!
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Part One follows the lairs, lifelong friends spending another intense summer on their family’s private island, where everything feels both familiar and slightly fragile. Beneath the golden days on the beach, late-night conversations, and endless games that blur into tradition, there’s an undercurrent of shifting relationships and unspoken tension that none of them fully acknowledge. What starts as a seemingly perfect return to Cuddledown slowly begins to hint that this summer will not play out like all the ones before it, and something about their bond is already starting to change in ways they can’t quite name yet.
tomorrow I'll be posting the first part to my bsf to lovers Johnny Sinclair fic so stay tuned!!
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⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Part One follows the lairs, lifelong friends spending another intense summer on their family’s private island, where everything feels both familiar and slightly fragile. Beneath the golden days on the beach, late-night conversations, and endless games that blur into tradition, there’s an undercurrent of shifting relationships and unspoken tension that none of them fully acknowledge. What starts as a seemingly perfect return to Cuddledown slowly begins to hint that this summer will not play out like all the ones before it, and something about their bond is already starting to change in ways they can’t quite name yet.
The first time Johnny Sinclair met Y/n, she was standing knee-deep in the ocean holding a dead crab in both hands.
She couldn’t have been older than seven.
The tide pulled at her knees. Wind tangled her salt water curls across her face. She stared down at the crab with this awful kind of seriousness, like she thought maybe she’d interrupted something important.
“It washed up like this,” she said quietly.
Johnny had been halfway through a pack of watermelon candies, sunburnt across the nose and already impossible at that age. He squinted at her from farther up the beach.
“You’re weird.”
She looked up immediately.
“You’re loud.”
Johnny grinned at that, shameless.
“You’re supposed to say thank you. I came over here to help.”
“You came over here to be annoying.”
“I can do both.”
Y/n looked back down at the crab in her hands, expression softening again. “Stop being mean and help me bury the poor baby crab.”
Johnny stared at her for a second.
Then sighed dramatically and trudged farther into the water toward her. “Fine. But if we get haunted because of this, it’s your fault.”
That should’ve been it.
Instead, Johnny followed her down the shoreline while she searched for the perfect place to bury the crab, talking the entire time while she rolled her eyes at nearly everything he said.
After that, they became unavoidable.
Every summer folded the two of them together somehow.
Bare feet against hot docks. Saltwater drying on sunburnt shoulders. Late nights tangled into old Sinclair couches while storms rattled the windows outside Cuddledown. Johnny throwing himself off cliffs first because he liked hearing everyone scream after him. Y/n sitting wrapped in towels with library books gone soft from seawater.
The Liars grew up around each other like that.
Cady with her curiosity.
Mirren all glitter and trouble.
Gat watching everything quietly from the edges.
And Johnny.
Johnny, who always laughed a little too loud at inappropriate moments.
Johnny, who could make an entire room feel brighter until suddenly it didn’t.
He is bounce.
He is effort and snark.
Other times he was something sharper.
Most people only noticed the first part.
Y/n noticed both.
She noticed how his jokes got meaner when he was upset. The way he disappeared after arguments with his mother. How he always came back pretending nothing happened at all.
Johnny Sinclair could turn anything into a performance.
Except with her.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
By eighteen, things had started shifting in ways neither of them knew how to talk about.
Johnny noticed it the second she stepped off the boat that June.
The wind caught her hair instantly, soft waves lifting around her shoulders. She wore an oversized sweater despite the heat, sleeves pulled over her hands the way they always were when she’d been reading too long.
She looked up toward the dock.
Found him immediately.
And smiled.
It hit him somewhere directly in the ribs.
Johnny leaned back against the railing, sunglasses slipping down his nose. “Thought maybe you finally decided not to come back this year.”
“I had peace for almost three weeks. It was horrible.”
“That sounds difficult for you.”
“Worst experience of my life, honestly.”
He reached for one of her bags before she could stop him.
It weighed way too much.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “Did you pack bricks?”
“Books.”
“Which is somehow worse.”
She laughed under her breath and Johnny looked away for a second after hearing it, like he needed to recover from something.
Neither of them noticed Gat watching from farther down the dock.
Gat noticed everything.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
The others realized before they did.
Maybe because it was obvious.
Johnny always looked for her first in every room without meaning to.
And Y/n had this habit of drifting toward him naturally, like standing beside him happened automatically.
One afternoon, the Liars were spread around the pool while music played softly through the speaker next to the lounge chairs.
The heat pressed heavy over Beechwood.
Y/n floated lazily near the edge of the pool while Johnny sat nearby with his feet in the water, pretending not to smoke a cigarette he definitely wasn’t supposed to have.
“You look guilty,” Y/n told him.
Johnny glanced down at the cigarette. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“You literally hide it every time someone walks by.”
“That’s called strategy.”
“That’s called being bad at lying.”
He grinned despite himself.
She swam closer, pushing wet hair back from her face. “Race you.”
Johnny looked horrified. “Against you? Absolutely not.”
“Scared?”
“I’ve seen you swim. You move like some kind of haunted mermaid.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Before he could respond, she shoved off toward the other side of the pool.
“Oh, you’re evil,” Johnny called, diving in after her.
Water crashed around them.
Halfway across the pool, Johnny grabbed her ankle and pulled her backward through the water.
Y/n let out a loud gasp. “Johnny!”
“What?” he said innocently, already laughing.
“You can’t just cheat and expect no repercussions!”
“I absolutely can.”
She splashed water hard into his face.
Johnny sputtered immediately, wiping water from his eyes. “Okay, wow. Aggressive.”
“That’s what you deserve.”
“You’re acting like I committed a crime.”
“You dragged me underwater!”
“Correction,” Johnny said, swimming closer again, “I’m about to.”
Before she could move, he hooked an arm around her waist and dragged her under with him.
The water exploded around them.
Y/n resurfaced first, coughing out a laugh while shoving wet hair out of her face. “You’re unbelievable!”
Johnny surfaced right after her, grinning so hard he could barely breathe. “And yet I’m still winning.”
“You are the most annoying person alive.”
“Yeah, but you like me anyway.”
She splashed him again before trying to swim off, but Johnny caught her ankle a second time, laughing while she yelled at him through her own laughter.
By the time they reached the edge again, both of them were laughing hard enough to barely stay upright.
Later, Y/n stretched out across one of the lounge chairs next to Mirren and Cadence.
while Gat talked beside Johnny in the pool.
Johnny stopped listening halfway through the conversation.
Y/n’s shoulders were turning pink in the sun.
“You forgot sunscreen again,” he said.
Without opening her eyes, she answered, “I literally put some on earlier.”
“Clearly not enough.”
“I’m fine.”
“You say that every time right before looking like a boiled lobster.”
Mirren snorted from her chair nearby.
Cady lowered her sunglasses slowly, already smiling.
Johnny ignored both of them and hauled himself out of the pool.
“Hold still.”
Y/n cracked one eye open as he grabbed the sunscreen bottle from beside her chair.
“You are unbelievably dramatic.”
“And you are unbelievably bad at taking care of yourself.”
“That feels exaggerated.”
“It’s really not.”
He crouched beside her and rubbed sunscreen across her shoulders with absentminded care, still talking the entire time like this was completely normal.
Maybe it was.
Maybe that was the problem.
Gat watched them for a long moment before muttering, “This is painful.”
“Thank you,” Mirren whispered back. “I thought I was the only one suffering.”
Johnny looked up immediately. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” all three of them said at once.
Y/n pressed her face into her arms to hide her smile.
Johnny stared at her for a second too long before looking away.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Later that week, they shared the hammock tucked beneath the trees behind Clairmont.
It had always been theirs.
Y/n read while Johnny stretched out beside her, one arm tucked behind his head as the hammock swayed lazily in the summer breeze. Sunlight filtered through the leaves overhead, turning everything gold.
“What’re you reading?” Johnny asked after a while, voice quieter than usual.
Y/n glanced down at the page. “The Hunger Games.”
Johnny groaned dramatically. “Haven’t you read that book like fifty times already?”
“Some of us enjoy stories with emotional depth.”
“Oh, right. My bad.”
She nudged him lightly with her foot. “Not all of us find psychological warfare entertaining.”
Johnny looked offended. “I’m hilarious.”
“You’re deeply concerning.”
“Also true.”
The hammock shifted softly beneath them.
Somewhere farther down the beach, waves crashed against the rocks below the cliffs. The sound carried through the trees with the wind.
Johnny turned his head slightly, watching sunlight move across her face.
“Have you ever thought about leaving this place and never looking back?” he asked quietly.
Y/n looked up from her book almost immediately.
“Yeah,” she admitted softly. “Sometimes.”
Johnny stared up through the trees for a second. “I think I would.”
That made her look at him fully now.
He shrugged a little after saying it, like he already regretted letting the thought out loud.
“But,” Y/n said after a moment, folding the corner of her page carefully, “I’d always come back.”
Johnny looked away first after that.
Because Beechwood got into people slowly.
Salt in your lungs. Sunlight in your skin. The feeling that the island existed slightly outside the rest of the world.
Y/n wasn’t technically a Sinclair.
But somehow Beechwood belonged to her anyway.
Or maybe she belonged to it.
Johnny had never really been able to tell the difference.
And somewhere deep down, in a place he didn’t know how to name yet, he thought maybe one day she’d belong to him in that same impossible way too.
She smiled a little before settling deeper into the hammock, laying her legs across his without thinking about it.
Johnny’s hand rested absently against her knee like it belonged there.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
The outdoor shower happened after one of those unbearably hot July beach days where the air still clung to your skin long after sunset.
The Liars had stayed out for hours.
Swimming until their limbs ached.
Letting waves drag them under.
Throwing themselves into the ocean over and over like they were trying to outrun growing up.
By the time they finally headed back toward the houses, everyone was exhausted and covered in salt and sand.
Mirren and Cady walked ahead arguing about music while Gat disappeared somewhere behind them looking through a new book.
Johnny and Y/n lagged behind naturally.
They always did.
“You’ve got sand literally everywhere,” Y/n laughed, glancing over at him.
Johnny looked down at himself in mock horror. “You tackled me.”
“You deserved it.”
“For what?”
“For existing near me aggressively.”
“That feels targeted.”
He bumped his shoulder lightly against hers anyway, smearing more sand across her arm.
Y/n groaned. “Johnny.”
“This is your fault now too.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Thank you.”
By the time they reached the outdoor shower beside Cuddledown, the sky had darkened into soft blue twilight.
The wooden boards beneath their feet were still warm from the sun.
Y/n stepped under the water first.
It sputtered violently before turning ice cold.
“Oh my god—”
She jerked back immediately, laughing despite herself.
Johnny grinned from beside her. “That was embarrassing to watch.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re losing a fight against water.”
“It attacked me first.”
Johnny laughed softly before stepping beneath the spray beside her anyway.
Water ran down his shoulders, soaking his curls until they fell into his eyes.
Y/n looked away too slowly.
Johnny noticed immediately.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
The word landed differently than it usually did.
Quieter.
Closer.
For a second neither of them moved.
Water dripped steadily around them while somewhere farther down the beach waves crashed against the shore.
Johnny absently brushed the sand from her bicep where he’d bumped into her moments before.
The touch lingered longer than it should have.
Y/n felt her breath catch before she could stop it.
Johnny’s eyes lifted to hers instantly.
Something shifted.
Not sudden.
Not dramatic.
Just impossible to ignore now.
“Johnny…” she said softly.
His hand slid carefully to her waist like he was testing whether she’d pull away.
She didn’t.
His eyes flicked down toward her mouth before back to her eyes again.
“Tell me to stop,” he said quietly.
Y/n’s heart was beating hard enough to hurt.
But the truth had been sitting between them for years already.
Neither of them had just said it out loud before.
“I don’t think I can,” she admitted.
For a second, Johnny just stared at her.
Like he hadn’t actually expected her to say it.
Johnny looked almost surprised by the answer.
Then nervous.
Which somehow made it worse.
Or better.
He lifted one hand slowly, brushing damp hair back from her face before resting his fingers carefully against her cheek.
Tentative.
Like he was still giving her time to change her mind.
Then he kissed her.
Softly at first.
Careful enough that it felt like both of them were holding their breath.
A lifetime of friendship balancing on the edge of something neither of them knew how to survive.
Y/n kissed him back almost immediately.
One of her hands slipped into his wet curls while his moved around her waist, pulling her a little closer beneath the running water.
The kiss deepened slowly after that.
Not rushed.
Just months and years of tension finally unraveling all at once.
Johnny let out a quiet breath against her mouth that almost sounded like a laugh, like he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
Y/n smiled into the kiss for half a second before kissing him again.
This time Johnny kissed her harder.
Still careful somehow, but less hesitant now.
Like the second he realized she wasn’t pulling away, he forgot how to hold himself back anymore.
One of his hands slid up beside her head against the wooden wall, fingers tangling instinctively with hers for half a second while the other tightened at her waist, pulling her closer beneath the running water.
The water echoed around them, loud enough to drown out everything except their uneven breathing.
Johnny’s mouth drifted from hers to her jaw, pressing a slow kiss there before another just beneath it, lingering for a second against the side of her neck.
Y/n’s breath caught as her head tipped back lightly against the wood, her hands tightening instinctively in his damp curls while Johnny let out a quiet breath against her skin like he was already losing composure.
For a second she felt completely unsteady in his hands, like every thought in her head had dissolved beneath the warmth of his mouth against her neck.
Johnny shifted forward without thinking, nearly losing his footing against the wet wood before catching himself against the wall beside her at the last second.
Both of them broke apart laughing under their breath.
“Smooth,” Y/n whispered.
“Yeah, I had that completely under control.”
“You almost wiped out.”
“I was overwhelmed.”
She shook her head, still smiling, but neither of them moved away this time.
Johnny rested his forehead lightly against hers, both of them still catching their breath.
Water streamed around them, completely forgotten.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he admitted quietly.
Then, almost immediately, he let out a nervous laugh and looked away for a second. “Wow. That sounded significantly cooler in my head.”
Y/n laughed softly, eyes dropping for a moment before finding his again.
“Good,” she said.
Johnny blinked. “Good?”
“Means I’m not the only one.”
That shut him up for maybe the first time in his life.
Afterward, they finished washing the salt and sand off in near silence.
Not awkward.
Not normal either.
Something in between.
Something changed.
And both of them felt it.
By the time they walked back toward Cuddledown, the island had gone quiet around them.
Windows glowed warmly through the trees.
Music drifted faintly from somewhere farther down the beach.
The air smelled like saltwater and sunscreen and distant smoke from fireworks somewhere across the mainland.
Johnny walked close enough that their hands brushed once.
Then again.
Neither of them mentioned it.
When they reached the porch steps, they lingered there longer than necessary, both pretending they didn’t know how to end the night anymore.
“Goodnight,” Y/n said finally.
Johnny nodded once, looking at her like he was still trying to process something.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Night.”
She disappeared inside first.
Johnny stayed outside for another minute after the door closed, ocean wind moving through the trees around him.
Everything felt different now.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
The Fourth of July parties on Beechwood had a reputation for getting out of hand.
Mostly because of people like Johnny Sinclair.
Rich college kids poured off boats carrying expensive liquor, laughing too loudly as they stumbled across the beach, the smell of weed, saltwater, sunscreen, and smoke clinging to the humid night air.
The party stretched from Red Gate to Cuddledown in scattered pockets of light and noise. Coolers sat half-buried in the sand while people sprawled across docks, driftwood, and towels damp from the ocean. Music thundered faintly from distant speakers, vibrating through the ground beneath the chaos like another heartbeat.
The beach itself was mostly darkness broken by bonfires flickering in uneven circles, sparklers hissing in restless hands, fireworks cracking open over the water in bursts of red, blue and gold. Farther back on the island, the Sinclair houses watched silently through the trees, porch lights glowing faintly against the dark.
Johnny thrived in places like this.
Drifting between conversations.
Laughing too loud.
Stealing drinks that weren’t his.
Getting pulled into groups he never stayed in for very long.
But his attention kept snapping back to Y/n anyway.
Like it always did.
She stood out to him even here, swallowed by firelight and noise.
Her hair blew loose in the salty wind, sticking briefly to her cheeks before the breeze pulled it free again. A thin white sundress hung over her bikini as she danced barefoot in the sand beside Mirren, flushed and visibly drunk now, laughing hard enough she could barely stay upright.
Johnny smiled without meaning to.
Then he noticed the guy beside her.
A stranger.
One hand resting low on her waist while he leaned down too close to say something in her ear.
Johnny’s expression changed almost immediately.
Beside him, Gat noticed.
“Oh no,” Gat muttered.
Johnny barely looked away from her. “What?”
“You’re staring again.”
“I’m literally just standing here.”
“Yeah,” Gat said dryly. “And somehow you still look homicidal.”
Johnny scoffed, but his jaw tightened anyway.
Down near the shoreline, Y/n burst into laughter at something the guy whispered to her, stumbling slightly as his hands tightened at her waist to steady her.
Johnny went quiet.
Not angry yet.
Just tense in that dangerous, still kind of way.
“Johnny,” Cadence warned from somewhere behind them, already noticing the shift.
But Johnny was already moving.
By the time he reached them, Y/n was still laughing, one hand loosely gripping the guy’s arm to steady herself.
“Hey,” Johnny said, stepping beside her.
Y/n looked up at him slowly. “Johnny.”
“I think you’ve had enough.”
She frowned slightly. “I’m fine.”
“You can barely stand.”
“That’s dramatic.”
Y/n immediately lost her balance trying to turn toward him.
Johnny caught her elbow before she could fall.
The guy beside her laughed. “She’s good, man.”
Johnny’s eyes finally lifted to him fully.
“Yeah,” he said flatly. “I know she is.”
The guy didn’t move his hand from her waist.
If anything, his grip tightened slightly.
Something cold flickered across Johnny’s face.
“She’s coming with me,” he said.
Y/n blinked between them, finally starting to realize something weird was happening.
“She can decide that herself,” the guy shot back.
Johnny laughed once under his breath, but there wasn’t anything amused about it.
“You don’t even know her.”
“And you do?”
Before Johnny could answer, the guy shoved him first.
Hard enough that Y/n stumbled sideways between them.
She hit the sand awkwardly, more startled than hurt.
Everything after that happened too fast.
Johnny barely caught himself before shoving the guy back harder.
The crowd around them erupted instantly.
Voices shouting.
People turning toward the noise.
Music still pounding somewhere farther down the beach like the night hadn’t noticed yet.
“Johnny, stop—”
Gat was already pushing through the crowd as the guy lunged forward again.
Johnny swung first this time.
Not controlled.
Not clean.
Just angry.
The guy stumbled backward into the sand, blood already bright against his mouth before Johnny grabbed at him again.
They crashed hard into the ground, Johnny shoving him back into the sand before landing another hit that snapped the guy’s head sideways.
Someone nearby shouted.
Johnny barely heard it.
Everything had happened too fast after that.
The shove. The crowd suddenly shouting around them. Adrenaline hitting all at once before Johnny could think through any of it.
By the time he hit him again, every sharp rush of anger had already crashed together into something reckless.
The guy tried to shove him off, but Johnny caught the front of his shirt and hit him again, sand sticking to both of them as the other guy’s nose started bleeding harder.
“Johnny—”
“Back off,” Johnny snapped without even looking away.
The guy muttered something under his breath that only made Johnny angrier—“She didn’t look like she was saying no to me”—and Johnny lunged toward him again before two hands finally grabbed hard onto his shoulders.
“Enough,” Gat snapped, dragging him backward before Johnny could swing again.
For a second Johnny resisted.
Still breathing hard.
Jaw tight.
Eyes locked on the guy like he wasn’t done yet.
Then Cady’s voice cut through everything.
“Johnny.”
He turned immediately.
Y/n was sitting upright now with Cady crouched beside her, sand clinging to her legs and a small cut just above her eyebrow.
Johnny’s expression changed instantly.
The fight stopped mattering.
He pulled away from Gat without another word, dragging one hand through his curls as his breathing slowly steadied.
Behind them, the guy was already being pulled away by his friends, muttering more somethings under his breath while blood dripped from his split lip.
Johnny barely looked at him.
Instead, he walked straight toward Y/n.
Slower this time.
The adrenaline still sat sharp beneath his skin, cuts stinging across his knuckles and cheekbone, but none of it seemed important anymore.
He crouched slightly in front of her.
“You’re going home,” he said.
Not harsh.
Just certain.
Y/n blinked up at him, still dazed enough that her words blurred together slightly. “Johnny, I’m okay—”
“You’re bleeding,” he said quietly.
That shut her up.
Johnny stood, then offered her his hand like it was the most normal thing in the world.
This time, Y/n took it.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
They left the beach in silence at first, the noise of the party fading behind them until it became nothing more than distant music and the steady crash of waves.
The path toward Cuddledown cut through darker stretches of sand and wind-tangled grass, everything quieter away from the bonfires.
Y/n drifted slightly off the path after a few steps before correcting herself with a quiet laugh.
Johnny tightened his grip on her hand automatically, steadying her before she could trip again.
“Your face is messed up,” she said after a minute, squinting up at him like she was trying to focus properly.
Johnny let out a tired breath of a laugh. “Yeah? You should see the other guy.”
“That’s not funny.”
The words came out softer than serious.
A few steps later she stumbled again, catching herself against his arm.
Johnny looked over at her.
Then at the uneven sand ahead of them.
Then back at her.
“Okay,” he said finally. “You’re done walking.”
“I am walking.”
“You’re actively losing a fight with the ground.”
“That feels dramatic.”
She nearly tripped again immediately after saying it.
Johnny snorted once under his breath before shifting his grip and lifting her over his shoulder in one smooth motion.
“Johnny—”
“You had your chance.”
She laughed despite herself, one hand loosely gripping the back of his shirt as he kept walking.
“I was doing fine.”
“You almost face-planted three separate times.”
“Allegedly.”
The ocean stretched dark beside them while the trees swayed softly overhead, shadows moving across the narrow path.
After a minute, Y/n’s voice came quieter against his shoulder.
“Your face is still messed up.”
Johnny huffed a laugh. “You seem really focused on that.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“So are you.”
“I know.” She paused. “Yours looks worse though.”
Johnny adjusted his grip slightly against her legs as he walked.
“The fight?” she asked after another second.
“Mm.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
Y/n lifted her head slightly. “But?”
Johnny exhaled slowly through his nose.
“But I couldn’t stand there and watch him touch you like that.”
The honesty slipped out before he could stop it.
“And then he shoved you.”
His jaw tightened briefly after saying it, like he was trying not to let himself get angry all over again.
Y/n stayed quiet for a second.
“I had it handled,” she mumbled eventually.
“I know,” Johnny said immediately, softer this time. “I know you did.”
The porch light at Cuddledown appeared through the trees ahead of them.
Warm against the dark.
After another few steps, Y/n let out a sleepy laugh.
“Still,” she slurred, “you didn’t have to get yourself beat up over it.”
Johnny smiled faintly to himself, adjusting her slightly higher against his shoulder.
“Probably would’ve done it anyway.”
By the time they reached the porch, the island had gone mostly quiet around them.
Johnny pushed open the front door and finally set her carefully back on her feet inside.
She immediately leaned sideways.
He caught her automatically, hands settling at her waist to steady her while she laughed softly against his shoulder.
Johnny shook his head once.
“You are an actual disaster.”
She smiled tiredly, still leaning against him while he looked down at the small cut above her eyebrow again.
His own lip was split.
Knuckles scraped raw.
Bruising already darkening along his cheekbone.
None of that seemed to matter to him nearly as much.
Y/n reached up carefully toward the cut near his eyebrow.
“You look worse than me,” she whispered.
Johnny caught her wrist gently before she could press too hard against it.
“You have blood on your face.”
She blinked slowly like she’d forgotten.
“Oh.”
Something in Johnny’s expression softened for half a second.
He moved her arm over his shoulders again.
“Come on,” he said quietly. “Let me clean that up before you fall asleep standing here.”
She laughed under her breath as he guided her toward the stairs.
The old steps creaked beneath them.
Halfway up, she missed one entirely and stumbled hard enough into him that both of them nearly lost balance.
Johnny caught her quickly, hand tightening at her side.
“Easy.”
She was still smiling against his shoulder like the whole thing was funny.
Johnny tried not to smile back.
“This is deeply inconvenient for me, by the way.”
Her eyes lifted toward him lazily. “You carried me all the way here.”
“Yeah, because your coordination is offensive.”
That got another laugh out of her.
By the time they reached her room, both of them looked exhausted.
Johnny sat her carefully on the edge of the bed before stepping back slightly.
“Stay sitting,” he said. “Please. I’ve had a long night.”
She grinned up at him immediately.
“You love me.”
The words were careless.
Automatic.
Something she’d probably said a hundred times growing up.
But Johnny froze anyway.
Just for a second.
Then he looked away first, jaw shifting slightly before he forced a crooked smile.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “You make it hard not to.”
Y/n only smiled sleepily at him, too tired to notice the weight behind it.
Johnny stepped backward before he said something worse.
“Don’t move,” he said, already turning toward the door. “I’m getting water.”
From the bed, her voice followed him softly.
“You are the problem, by the way.”
Johnny laughed quietly somewhere down the hallway.
“Still beat his ass, though.”
A few minutes later, Johnny returned with a glass of water and a washcloth draped over one shoulder.
The door shut softly behind him.
Y/n was still exactly where he’d left her, swaying slightly where she sat on the edge of the mattress.
Johnny looked relieved about that for some reason.
“Good,” he said automatically. “You’re still upright.”
He crossed the room and set the water down beside her before crouching slightly in front of her again.
The teasing faded from his face the second he looked at the cut above her eyebrow.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “Hold still.”
He tilted her chin up gently with his fingers before pressing the damp cloth carefully against her skin.
Y/n flinched.
Johnny’s expression changed instantly.
“Hey,” he said softly. “I know. Just give me a second.”
And she did.
The room stayed quiet except for the occasional sound of the ocean outside and the soft creak of the house settling around them.
Johnny focused harder than necessary while cleaning the cut, brows pulled together slightly like he could somehow undo the entire night if he concentrated enough.
When he finished, he didn’t pull away immediately.
His eyes flicked over her face once more, checking for anything he missed.
Then he noticed the makeup smudged faintly beneath one of her eyes.
Johnny hesitated.
“Hold on.”
He used the clean corner of the washcloth to wipe gently beneath her eye.
Slow.
Careful.
The movement made Y/n’s breathing catch slightly.
Johnny noticed.
That was the problem.
He noticed everything with her.
The room suddenly felt smaller than it had a minute ago.
Too quiet.
Too close.
Y/n’s eyes stayed fixed on his face while he worked, softer now, more focused than before.
Johnny cleared his throat quietly and stepped back a little too quickly once he finished.
“Alright,” he said, voice suddenly more casual than before. “Crisis contained.”
Y/n smiled faintly.
Johnny looked away first.
“Where are your pajamas?” he asked, already turning toward her dresser before the silence could settle too heavily between them.
“You always keep them in the same drawer, right?”
She nodded tiredly from the bed.
Johnny opened the drawer and grabbed the oversized tank top and soft sleep shorts she always wore during movie nights.
Then he turned around immediately the second she reached for the hem of her shirt.
Behind him came the rustle of fabric.
Then silence.
Then a loud thud.
Johnny closed his eyes briefly. “Impressive.”
“I’m stuck,” Y/n announced somewhere behind him.
He turned around to find her halfway tangled in the tank top, balancing badly while trying to step into the shorts at the same time.
Johnny laughed despite himself, already walking back over.
“You survived that entire party and this is what takes you out?”
“Help.”
The single exhausted word softened something in him immediately.
Johnny pulled the shirt down properly over her head before steadying her when she nearly tipped sideways again.
A strand of damp hair had fallen across her face, and he reached up without thinking, tucking it gently behind her ear.
“Careful.”
“I am being careful.”
Johnny glanced at her.
“You’re wearing your shorts incorrectly.”
A pause.
“That feels judgmental.”
Johnny snorted quietly, already crouching slightly to help untangle the fabric around her knees.
He didn’t answer that.
Once she was finally changed, he pulled the blankets over her while she settled sleepily into the pillows.
Johnny should’ve left then.
He knew that.
But the second he reached toward the lamp, Y/n’s hand caught loosely around his wrist.
“Stay until I fall asleep.”
She said it like it was obvious he would.
Like there had never really been another option.
Johnny looked down at her for a second without answering.
Then he sighed quietly through his nose and sat back down beside her.
He told himself it was because she was exhausted.
Because she’d been drinking.
Because someone should probably make sure she didn’t wander downstairs half-asleep later.
Any excuse sounded safer than the truth.
When he finally laid down beside her, keeping what he thought was a reasonable amount of space between them, it lasted maybe three seconds.
Y/n curled against him immediately.
Instinct.
Her head tucked beneath his chin while one hand bunched lightly in the front of his shirt.
Johnny froze for half a heartbeat before his hand moved carefully into her hair, gently working loose a few knots left behind from the ocean wind.
Her breathing slowly evened out after that.
Sleep came easy for her.
Not for him.
Johnny stayed awake long after the room had gone quiet, staring up at the ceiling while the ocean moved faintly outside.
His face hurt.
His knuckles stung.
There was dried blood still sitting near the corner of his mouth.
None of it seemed important anymore.
Because all he could think about was how naturally she fit against him.
And how dangerously easy it would be to get used to it
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Morning came in pieces — sunlight slipping through the white curtains, the distant crash of waves against the rocks, and the warm summer breeze drifting through the open window.
Along with a headache bad enough to make Y/n groan before she even opened her eyes.
She shifted slightly, immediately realizing two things.
One: she was still in her bed.
She could feel breathing against the back of her shoulder.
Two: someone’s arm was around her waist.
Her eyes flew open.
For one horrible second, her entire body went tense as she realized her best friend was pressed warm against her back, one arm draped lazily over her like this was the most normal thing in the world.
She moved too fast trying to turn around, and Johnny made a sleepy noise behind her before blinking awake.
He looked disoriented for a second, curls a mess, bruises from last night still scattered across his face.
Then his eyes landed on hers.
Y/n stared at him.
“Did we—”
Johnny’s expression changed instantly, immediately understanding where her brain had gone.
“Nothing happened,” he said quickly.
Then, quieter:
“You just asked me to stay.”
She let out a breath so dramatic he almost laughed.
Johnny pushed himself up onto one elbow, looking equally offended and amused.
“Wow,” he muttered. “Good morning to you too.”
Y/n buried her face in her pillow for a second. “I just woke up hungover and you were spooning me. You can see where I got concerned.”
That actually made him grin.
“Yeah, because clearly I’m the one who trapped you. You practically turned into a koala the second you fell asleep.”
She narrowed her eyes at him weakly, but it didn’t last long with her head pounding like this.
Johnny noticed immediately.
“You okay?”
“I feel like I got hit by a truck.”
“Deserved.”
That earned him a look. “How embarrassing was I last night?”
Johnny hesitated just long enough for her to groan.
“Oh no. That bad?”
He was trying not to laugh now. “You were a little gone.”
Y/n frowned, slowly trying to piece the night back together.
Music.
Firelight.
Someone pressing another drink into her hand.
Laughing too hard at something she couldn’t fully remember.
Then her eyes landed fully on him.
The split lip.
The bruising along his cheekbone.
His knuckles darkening purple.
Her expression changed instantly.
She forgot her own headache and moved closer before he could stop her, gently taking one of his hands.
“Johnny,” she said quietly. “What happened to you?”
He glanced down like he’d forgotten his face looked like that.
Then it came back in fragments—shouting, someone grabbing at her waist, his own voice sharp enough to cut through the noise.
Her brows pulled together.
“Wait,” she said slowly. “Was there a fight?”
Johnny leaned back against the headboard like it barely mattered.
“It was nothing.”
Y/n looked up at him, not buying it for a second, still holding his hand carefully as she turned it over in hers.
“You’re hurt.”
His mouth almost twitched.
The cut above her eyebrow was still visible, and somehow she was still acting like he was the one who needed taking care of.
“You were bleeding too, remember?”
She ignored that, lifting her hand toward the bruise near his cheek.
Johnny went very still.
Her fingers barely brushed his skin, but he felt it anyway.
“Does this hurt?” she asked softly.
Johnny looked at her for a second before answering.
“No.”
She gave him a look that made it clear she knew he was lying.
He sighed quietly through his nose.
“Some guy got handsy,” he admitted. “You were too drunk to notice. I noticed.”
Y/n blinked.
“You fought him because of me?”
Johnny shrugged, trying for casual and missing it completely.
“He was being an ass.”
A quiet pause settled between them.
She was still holding his hand.
Then, because neither of them knew how to sit in sincerity for very long, Johnny glanced over at her again.
“You know,” he said, “you kept insisting you could walk.”
Y/n frowned immediately. “I could walk.”
Johnny just raised an eyebrow.
She stopped.
“…I couldn’t walk, could I?”
He laughed under his breath. “Not even a little. You nearly fell off the porch steps and got mad at me about it.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “I did not.”
“You absolutely did,” Johnny said, enjoying this way too much now. “You told me I was being dramatic while I was literally holding you upright.”
Y/n covered her face with both hands.
“Please stop talking.”
Johnny grinned lazily against the headboard.
“You also kept insisting your eyebrow wasn’t bleeding while there was very obvious blood on your face.”
She peeked through her fingers, looking genuinely horrified now.
“I hate everything.”
“No,” Johnny said easily. “You were kind of funny.”
She shoved his shoulder weakly.
“You’re awful.”
“And yet,” he said, glancing meaningfully down toward where she was still holding his bruised hand, “you let me stay.”
That shut her up immediately.
Right as a knock sounded against the door.
Neither of them moved.
Then the door swung open and Cadence walked in with Gat right behind her.
Both of them stopped instantly.
Y/n was still sitting close enough that her knee touched Johnny’s, his arm still half-draped behind her from where he’d been lying just minutes before.
And somehow they both immediately looked far guiltier than they should have.
Cady’s eyebrows lifted so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline.
Gat’s grin spread slowly.
“Well,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “This is interesting.”
Johnny immediately pulled his arm back and sat up straighter.
“Shut up.”
That only made Cady grin wider.
“No seriously,” she said. “Should we come back after your secret married life discussion?”
Y/n grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at her.
Cady laughed and ducked out of the way.
“Nothing happened,” Y/n said too quickly.
Gat and Cady exchanged a look that made it worse.
“Hey, no judgment,” Gat said, raising his hands. “We just came to say beach after breakfast. Chicken.”
Johnny rubbed a tired hand over his face.
“You barged in here just to announce shoulder violence?”
“Correct,” Cady said immediately. “Ten minutes. Don’t be weird.”
Then both of them disappeared back out the door still grinning like idiots.
The second it shut, silence filled the room again.
Y/n looked at Johnny.
Johnny looked at Y/n.
And both of them started laughing.
She shook her head while climbing carefully out of bed.
“Great. They’re never letting that go.”
“Never.”
Johnny stood too, stretching slightly before immediately wincing because apparently bruised ribs existed now.
Y/n noticed instantly.
Johnny pointed at her before she could say anything.
“Don’t.”
She rolled her eyes.
Johnny moved toward the door, pausing with one hand on the knob.
“I’m gonna get ready,” he said. “Meet you at the beach?”
She nodded.
Then hesitated.
“Johnny.”
He turned back toward her.
Before she could overthink it, Y/n crossed the room quickly and wrapped her arms around him in a short, tight hug.
Johnny froze completely.
Her voice came quieter against him.
“Thank you. For last night.”
For carrying her.
For staying.
For taking care of her.
For fighting for her before she’d even realized she needed someone to.
Johnny felt his face go warm almost instantly.
Which annoyed him deeply.
He covered it the only way he knew how.
Johnny wrapped one arm around her long enough to squeeze her back before pulling away and flicking lightly at the side of her head.
“You’re still a pain in the ass, just so you know.”
Y/n smiled at him then — small and soft and real.
The kind she only gave when she meant something and didn’t quite know how to say it out loud.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I know.”
Neither of them moved for a second.
Johnny smiled before he could stop himself.
Then he ducked out the door before she could notice how badly that hug had knocked the air out of him, shutting it behind him as he headed down the hallway still grinning like an idiot.
⋆ ──────── ⋆ ──────── ⋆ ────── ⋆
Downstairs at Cuddledown, the kitchen was quiet. Y/n pulled together the easiest thing she could manage—toast and fruit she mostly picked at instead of ate. The house still carried the usual beach-day noise through the open windows: distant laughter, doors slamming somewhere upstairs, someone yelling from outside near the beach path.
She rinsed her plate, went back upstairs, and stood in front of her drawer longer than she should’ve.
Then she reached for her bikini.
The one she wore every summer because it fit best, and definitely not because she’d caught Johnny looking at it enough times over the years that she’d noticed.
Her fingers stayed on the strap a second too long.
It was the same one she’d been wearing in the outdoor shower. The one from that stupid moment she kept trying not to replay—water running around them, his hands laced with hers above her head, the pause before they kissed like neither of them had meant to until it happened.
Y/n pulled it from the drawer, trying not to think about the way he’d looked at her after. Or the party. Or the way he’d carried her home like it was nothing. The way he’d laid beside her last night and stayed when he could’ve left. The way everything between them had felt slightly off ever since—not broken, just shifted enough that she noticed every time he looked at her too long or stood too close.
He’d still teased everyone this morning. Still acted like Johnny. And she was grateful for that, even if they were both pretending harder than usual. Because whatever had changed between them was there now, quiet and impossible to ignore, and neither of them seemed ready to say it out loud.
She shook the thoughts from her head and changed quickly before heading down the path toward the beach.
The second she came into view, all four of them looked up.
Cadence smiled immediately, like she’d been waiting.
Gat looked between her and Johnny, already entertained.
Mirren tilted her head. “I feel like I’ve arrived halfway through a conversation.”
“I’ll fill you in later,” Cady said, grinning.
Johnny was standing knee-deep in the water.
He looked at Y/n once.
Then immediately looked away.
That should not have made her as aware of herself as it did.
“Are we playing or just standing here being weird?” Y/n asked, dropping her towel onto the sand.
“Chicken,” Cady said. “We were waiting.”
Mirren pointed at them all. “I’m referee. Nobody here can be trusted.”
“That’s dramatic,” Johnny said.
“It’s accurate,” Mirren replied.
No one argued.
The teams formed without discussion.
Johnny and Y/n.
Cadence and Gat.
The sun warmed their shoulders as Mirren blew an imaginary whistle. “First round: chicken. First to fall loses.”
Johnny’s eyes flickered to Y/n. She met his glance for a heartbeat before he looked away again, shifting in the water.
“Ready?” she called.
Cadence laughed. “Oh, we’re ready.”
Gat smirked. “This is going to be fun.”
Chaos hit instantly.
Water flying. Laughter turning into yelling. Gat nearly going under when Cadence leaned too far laughing. Johnny adjusting instinctively beneath Y/n every time she shifted, his grip steady at her legs without thinking.
Being this close to him made it harder to ignore everything else.
The way he held her. The sound of his breath just beneath her. The way he didn’t let her slip even once.
Then Cadence leaned too far again during a laugh and took Gat with her in a messy crash of limbs and water.
Silence broke for half a second.
Then Mirren threw both arms up. “Winner. Again. You all suck.”
Johnny laughed, still holding Y/n steady as she nearly slipped from laughing too hard.
The game eased out—saltwater, noise, chaos fading.
Johnny crouched so she could climb down.
She slid carefully, but her foot caught uneven sand beneath the water and she wobbled.
She reached for him immediately.
Johnny caught her at the waist without hesitation.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then he grinned.
That familiar reckless one that always meant trouble.
He lifted his hand between them.
Y/n laughed and slapped her palm into his.
The handshake started—same one they’d had since they were kids, half changed every summer.
But before they finished it, Johnny suddenly shifted his grip.
“Johnny—”
Too late.
He dragged her sideways straight into the incoming wave.
Y/n screamed as it crashed over her.
She resurfaced sputtering, pushing wet hair from her face while Johnny doubled over laughing.
She lunged at him immediately.
He tried to back up still laughing, but she caught him around the waist and pulled him down with her.
They went under in a tangle of limbs and saltwater.
When they came up again, both were breathless with laughter.
Gat shook his head. “You two are actually insane.”
Cadence laughed beside him. “You win and immediately start a war.”
Johnny wiped water from his eyes. “You’re just mad you lost.”
He pulled Y/n upright again before another wave hit.
“Gat, you were literally on the losing team,” Y/n said. “You don’t get to comment.”
They started walking back side by side, water dragging at their legs while the others faded behind them.
Johnny bumped his shoulder into hers. Casual.
Then again—slightly more deliberate.
Testing.
She bumped him back.
That was enough for him to grin wider.
By the time they reached the towels and cooler near the sand, Johnny finally let the act of being normal slip just slightly—hands pushing through his wet curls, shaking saltwater loose like he hadn’t spent the whole walk provoking her on purpose.
“You’re soaking everything,” Cadence called after them, dropping onto her towel.
Johnny glanced at Y/n like it was somehow her fault and kicked sand lightly toward her feet. “She started it.”
It wasn’t true. Everyone knew it.
That somehow made it worse.
Y/n scoffed, dropping onto her towel and brushing sand from her legs while Cadence rolled her eyes like this was already getting exhausting.
Gat flopped down beside them, reaching straight into the cooler. “You’re both impossible.”
“Thank you,” Johnny said, like it was a compliment, sitting down beside Y/n in the sand.
Mirren dropped onto her towel with a dramatic sigh. “I need food before I witness any more crimes.”
The cooler popped open, and just like that, the energy softened—chips being passed around, melting popsicles, half-forgotten snacks scattered across towels under the heavy afternoon sun.
Y/n sat with her knees tucked up, picking salt from chips while sand clung to her skin as she dried.
Johnny sat beside her—close enough that their shoulders kept almost brushing whenever either of them shifted, neither moving away from it.
At one point, he bumped her shoulder again as he reached toward the cooler.
Not an accident this time.
She looked at him.
Cadence noticed immediately.
She leaned back on her elbows. “So. Slept well?”
Johnny’s head snapped up. “Don’t start.”
Gat laughed into his soda. “He did. Very cozy, from what I heard.”
Y/n nearly choked.
Mirren sat upright. “What.”
Cadence lit up. “Oh my god—you’re both impossible.”
Johnny groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “No. Stop.”
Mirren ignored him. “Tell me everything.”
Cadence leaned forward, delighted. “Okay, so Johnny spent the night in Y/n’s room.”
Mirren’s jaw dropped.
Gat lost it laughing.
Cadence continued, grinning. “And this morning we walked in and they were still there—just sitting up in bed, completely tangled together, talking like it was the most normal thing in the world.”
Mirren made a sound somewhere between shock and outrage
Johnny immediately scooped up a handful of sand and threw it at Gat.
“It was not like that.”
Gat leaned back laughing harder. “Sure.”
Mirren’s eyes narrowed slowly, like she was solving something. Then she smiled.
“Oh, this is worse. It’s definitely something.”
Y/n threw a chip at her.
“I was drunk,” she said quickly.
Mirren only laughed.
The teasing didn’t stop after that—it stretched across towels, snacks, and sunburned skin until even Johnny gave up denying anything and just started threatening everyone equally.
By sunset, everything had gone quiet in that tired, sun-heavy way.
Cadence stretched out. “Movie night at Cuddledown. Shower first. All of you smell awful.”
Gat groaned. “Your movie choices are criminal.”
“They’re art.”
“They’re all sad,” Johnny said.
“They’re art,” Cadence said. “You’ll survive.”
Johnny looked at Y/n then—just for a second.
The chaos around them kept moving, but he didn’t.
“You coming?”
Simple question.
Still not simple at all.
And when she looked at him, she already knew tonight would feel different too.
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stay tuned for a part 2 on the way VERY soon
thank you for reading!! please like and comment if you enjoyed and dm me if you have any request!
