Chapter Text
Destiny. It was something Kiara couldn’t quite decide if she believed or not. Truthfully, the whole concept of fate in itself sounded a bit too restrictive for her taste— not to mention hella cheesy. She didn’t much like the idea that life was this predetermined course instead of the unpredictable adventure she felt hers to be recently. Much preferred the theory that people had free will, that existence was something more akin to surfing a wild ocean wave than riding on a linear train cart somewhere.
Life simply happened and it was up to you to choose how to live it.
However, all that being said, the young woman had a hard time arguing that destiny hadn’t played any part at all in the Pogues’ re-discovery of El Dorado. Because, honestly, what other explanation was there for a bunch of teenaged treasure hunters solving that centuries old mystery?
There wasn’t one.
Yet, that’s precisely what happened. For whatever rhyme or reason and despite everything they went through, all the danger, the struggle, the doubt, somehow someway the six of them managed the quest of a lifetime. Best of all they’d done it together and unlike the last time two times they quite literally struck gold, losing their riches to Ward and Rafe only to then get themselves stranded on Poguelandia with little more than the clothes on their back to show for it, this time their efforts and sacrifices weren’t in vein. Not with their recently brokered El Dorado deal and all.
Of course, as one might predict, striking such an accord was much easier said than done. The entire endeavor was absolutely brutal, actually. Nothing short of arduous and irritating, not to mention confusing thanks to all the legal jargon and needless bureaucracy involved in it. It took a hell of a lot longer than originally anticipated too. For days the Pogues were sat down and separated for interviews, telling the same story over and over until certain details were verified through third party accounts, such as Carlos Singh hunting them down for information, Big John’s role in the quest, and Pope’s family ties to the San José ship itself.
Amongst other things.
Eventually some trust got established though and, with that, good faith negotiations officially began in Columbia. Offers and counter-offers were floated consisting of financial compensations, non-disclosure agreements, story rights, etc. All things that the Pogues had to debate and decide amongst themselves; Which hard lines to hold onto and what to concede?
That was the question.
Naturally this led to some heated infighting because everyone, including Limbrey and Neville (who were also involved in such discussions), had their own personal opinions and preferences on the matter. Some favored money over recognition, wanting an official percent stake in the treasure spoils instead of their name in some history book. Others merely wanted the story told, for the discovery to be known.
Eventually, after plenty of frustrations were vented and couple weeks were spent ironing out exact details, a shaky middle ground was reached. One that all Pogues could agree upon, if not somewhat reluctantly. (Ie JJ and Cleo.) Either way the paperwork got written up by lawyers fairly quickly after that and two days later they were signed and notarized. Then, immediately following that, a helicopter ride was taken, a boat got ridden down the orinoco river and a hardy hike took place in search of El Dorado’s precise location— where things, somehow, got even more complicated.
As it turned out, neither Kiara nor Cleo were professional cartographers. Despite their best efforts to collaborate with each other and accurately depict the exact location of the cave entrance, their calculations were still off. Now thankfully it had only been half a mile or so from the actual spot so they were able to find the cave regardless after some searching but it’s originally marked location, which had already been bordering pretty close Venezuela as it was, well, it turned out to be right on the edge of the border.
Upon further exploration of the inner cave system the next few days and eventually flying a helicopter over the sight with ground penetrating radar, the Columbian government came to the realization that El Dorado, the glorious goldmine of a city underneath their feet, sat smack dab in the middle of their border with Venezuela.
Such a discovery couldn’t go undisclosed either, which meant that any and all excavation or, hell, even exploration plans got halted while the two countries negotiated their own separate El Dorado deal.
As for the fate of the Pogues? Well, it was a little complicated because even though their own agreement with Columbia was solidified, gifting them a six way split of two million dollars up front for the location and a combined one percent stake in the gold wealth underground, if El Dorado wasn’t ever excavated then they’d be missing out on the latter entirely. Meaning they could all lose hundreds of millions of dollars— if not more, depending on how much treasure was found beneath the surface.
So, yeah, the stakes felt pretty fricking high and inevitably the stress for everyone became even higher. For another two weeks all six teenagers were tense, grumpy and on edge whilst waiting things out in the capital city of Bogota. Fortunately though, before they all started to become completely demoralized by the whole situation, good news finally came their way; A deal between the two governments was struck and Venezuela was on board with excavating the cave. It was music to the Pogues’ ears.
A relief, really.
Granted, thanks to the snail pace of government bureaucracy and pesky spending bills, nothing would happen on the excavation front for another couple years— if not longer— which was definitely a bummer but it was world’s better than nothing happening ever. It at least meant they’d get their bag eventually and, in the meantime, each Pogue still had a couple shared million to spend.
Plus they were free to share their story now, able to talk about hunting treasure, finding El Dorado, etc. Since the non disclosure agreement they signed only forbid any and all discussions of financial compensation and, of course, the precise location of El Dorado itself, anything else was considered fair game.
This aspect of the deal in particular had been a hardline for John B and Pope, whom both had personal stakes in their family being recognized for their discoveries… as well as their sacrifices. Limbrey also demanded it too though, given her entire reason in orchestrating the deal to begin with was the credit itself. Helping a bunch of poor, forgotten youths find a centuries old treasure— one whose family was literally enslaved by hers— sounded like just the stupid bullshit narrative some ideological journalist would eat up too. It would be the perfect image change Carla needed for people to forgive her family’s racist ass past and possibly even see her as a white savior of sorts going forward.
Gag me.
Though that particular scenario sat sourly in Kie’s mouth, if Pope wasn’t too bothered by Limbrey’s involvement anymore then why should she be? Besides, there was some solace to be found in the knowledge that the truth would soon be out there for the world to know. Verifiable— indisputable. Hidden no longer. Regardless of all the concessions that were made along the way in order to get a deal done, at least there’d be no denying Denmark’s remarkable life story nor its place in history.
All things considered the trip was a win for the Pogues. A much needed, long over due victory. Albeit a bittersweet one. But when all was said and done, when strings were neatly tied and business was handled, the obvious question came to everyone’s mind; What’s next?
Kildare. That was the natural answer, of course. They all knew that. A couple of them probably even wanted a quick return home too but before any of them stated something of the sort, John B was suggesting a fun final weekend in Bogota.
Pogue style.
“Look, it’s been a stressful month.” The Routledge boy reminded everyone amidst his sales pitch. “We’ve been all business since we got here and frankly, y’know, I think we deserve some down time. So let’s have it. here, before we go home.”
Predictably, convincing the rest of the Pogues took very little work. All of them readily agreed, more than eager to have a peaceful breather with the family after having dealt with nothing but the turmoil and anxiety of the last few weeks. Hell, of the last entire year, really. After all they’ve been through to find El Dorado, a nice carefree couple of days sounded like just the thing they needed to unwind.
Celebrations began that same evening, with everyone getting dressed up all nice to go eat at an expensive restaurant near the center of the city. There they toasted their victories, ate their fill and nearly got kicked out of the place for being too loud.
Which was fair.
Once they split the bill the group wandered around the city bar hopping. Went to a couple clubs, feeling out the vibes but never staying too long. That is until they stumbled upon this crazy packed, self described “gay-themed” bar called Theatron. Though honestly it was more of a dance rave sorta place than anything else but it was the club all three of the girl’s insisted on spending the remainder of the night in, enjoying both the outdoor sections and the live music thumping off the walls indoors.
Kiara relished in the liberation of the whole night, drinking and dancing the hours away with her friends. When they weren’t all downing Jell-O shots together they were scattered about the nightclub, taking in the scenery and losing their inhibitions by the minute.
Hers, specifically, dissipated into thin air around one am. The young woman blamed JJ for it entirely, what with his tempting grinding and sweaty skin, his hot panting breath and those devastating blue eyes looking at her like he’d fuck her right there, right then if she let him.
A touch scared she just might, Kie insisted they take a breather from the foreplay that was dancing with him. “C’mon.”
“Whatcha worn out already?” The blonde teased, that dimpled grin filled with mirth.
Yes. She thought to herself, grabbing the young man’s hand and dragging him through the crowd of bodies on the dance floor. Plus, “I’m hot.”
“Hell yeah ya are.” JJ readily agreed, shuffling closer to her and maneuvering their laced fingers over her head until his arm draped around her shoulders. “Finest girl in this joint if you ask me.”
Dark eyes rolled because they both knew that wasn’t what she meant at all. Her body was simply overheated, heart thundering, clothes all sticky. She felt a little lightheaded too but that was probably more the copious amount of alcohol in her blood than anything else.
The dull, slick little ache accumulating between her thighs, however, had all to do with JJ. He looked too damn good all disheveled and flushed, with his crooked backwards cap on and his button up shirt all undone to expose his glistening chest for everyone. Her man was fine there was no denying. She knew it. He knew it. Every single straight girl and gay guy in the club knew it as well. Not to mention the bi’s, like herself, who no doubt found him fine as fuck too.
Who didn’t, honestly? The answer was no one.
“I need a drink.” And by that Kie meant a water or something else non-alcoholic that would cool her down.
Both in body and mind.
Despite the statement, JJ instead led them in the opposite direction of the bar. Without explanation he started backing her up until her shoulders flushed against this wall near a string of booths and, just when she went to inquire about his intent, he made it abundantly clear with a kiss.
At first it was sticky and slow, a little ease in full of hot ragged breaths and a teasing wet tongue swiping at her bottom lip. On instinct Kiara opened her mouth to grant access, letting out this muffled mewl a moment later when their tongues met.
She kissed him eagerly— shamelessly— like no one else was even around. And, truthfully, sometimes it felt that way with the blonde. Quite often Kiara found herself living in the wonder that was JJ. Lost in a sea of blue eyes and soft lips as she explored the warm terrain of his fit body, mapping out every atom of his entire existence with her own.
Gone was the sound of the club music drowning the air, of the bass vibrating off the walls and the needless chatter of other bar patrons. Everything, the entire fricking world just sorta… faded away until nothing but them existed.
It was dangerous, the game they were playing. Dirty dancing was one thing but their highly inappropriate grope fest in the middle of some random club was quickly escalating from foreplay to straight up edging and Kiara could hardly fucking breathe from how much she wanted him. Especially when she began to feel the familiar press of him against her thigh, stiff and thick and hot.
Tempting too.
Forcing herself to break the kiss Kie turned her head to the side and insisted, “Nm, Jayj we can’t.”
Either he didn’t hear her protest over the music or he just completely ignored it because his eager mouth wasted zero time in finding that special spot right behind her ear. The one that drove the girl wild, that elicited this wanton little gasp to escape and for a warm, slick sort of jolt to shoot through her veins.
Okay, they really needed to simmer things down now.
“J.” She groaned to no avail. In fact, instead of relenting, the blonde began to pull a harsh, stinging mark into her skin.
Kiara couldn’t help but whimper at the sensation because God, did it hurt so good. And she realized that probably sounded fucked up but there was no helping it. What could she say? Her body loved a hungry, fervent JJ. Craved the wild, unpredictable nature that radiated molten hot lava off of him and through to her, melting inside her bones, sparking flame in her blood while he torn her universe apart.
Blunt nails dug into broad shoulders, holding on for dear life and trying to remind herself all the reasons she shouldn’t ask the blonde to touch her right now. Logic and reason were swiftly being drown out by the soaked seat of her cheeky panties.
Right when Kiara opened her stupid mouth to suggest such a thing that beautiful pressure relented and her boyfriend hotly whispered, “Take me to the ladies room, baby. Let me do the same thing to that perfect fuckin’ pussy.”
Dark eyes rolled at the wonderful suggestion, tossing her head back until it hit the wall with a soft ‘thunk’ she hardly even felt. Was too busy imagining him going down on her— remembering, even. How deliberately, deliciously he’d abuse her needy clit. How his long fingers would stretch and curl and tease.
“I—“ She couldn’t say yes, for decency’s sake. She just couldn’t. Nor could she muster up any words to decline such a filthy, fantastic offer. “Jayj.”
JJ lifted a hand to snatch up the young woman’s face, directing it down again until her gaze met his. Then, with a thick, too deep voice and a cocky little smirk he asked, “That a yes or no?”
Kiara merely licked her lips and nodded.
Question of the day: Is it still cliche to fool around in a bathroom at a gay club if both parties were straight?
No. Was his initial thought.
Then again Kie identified herself as a bisexual, so…
Maybe?
Whatever, it didn’t really matter. Either way he somehow managed to get his tipsy girl to ride his face in a bathroom stall before she dropped to her naughty knees and returned the favor. Based and filthy it was but JJ had zero regrets. The release turned out to be exactly what they needed, both for their sobriety and the thick sexual tension that’s default setting seemed stuck on a near-constant hum.
Once him and Kiara regained their composures as well as their dignities, they exited the restroom and headed to the bar for some much needed water. Two bottles later the exploring continued and, boy, was there lots to see. The club truly was gigantic. It had thirteen room venues in total, all with different themes and their own unique thing going on; There was some Magic Mike shit going on in one venue, a drag show happening in another, different concert like events in a few. Some rooms were just dance floors and strobe lights while others had a more bar like aspect to them that allowed for socializing.
A truly take your pick kinda joint, it was.
In one of the outdoor areas there was a live band playing and a bunch of patio tables scattered about to sit at. Kie wanted to chill there for a while, complaining about walking around in her shoes all evening so JJ obliged. However, right as he started looking around for an empty table they could share, he did a double take to one that was already taken by their two best friends.
“Hey, check it out.” He gestured to them, already leading the girl in that direction.
John B and Pope were in the middle of what looked to be a passionate conversation, waving their beers in each other’s face and gesturing around them all animatedly.
“Whoa, hey, yo. What’s the matter guys?” The Maybank boy asked in a teasing tone when he approached, making a point to ruffle their hair for good measure. “Little lover’s squirrel?”
Kiara let out a confused laugh beside him. “What?”
“It’s quarrel, bruh.” Pope corrected.
“Ah,” He began, “so you’re admitting that’s what it was then? Hm. Very interesting, Pope. Very interestin’.”
The raven haired boy simply rolled his eyes as John B let out a deadpanned, “Oh, haha. You’re a real riot, JJ.”
“Listen, I ain’t judgin’, dude.” Insisted the young man, dramatically yanking out one of the empty chairs and offering it to his girlfriend who kissed his cheek in thanks before sitting down. “Y’know I support it, actually.”
As in John B and Pope’s hypothetical romantic relationship.
“Hell, I ship it.” Kie smiled, playing along.
Letting out a disapproving tsk Pope told her, “Don’t encourage him.”
The young woman merely chuckled.
“You know how obnoxious he gets.” Added John B.
“Love is love.” The blonde continued mocking, pulling out his own chair and flipping it backwards to straddle. Then he pretended to get all teary eyed and emotional, telling them, “Just follow your heart. Be you. Be— be proud.”
Beyond over the running gag, Bird asked, “Are you done?”
“Not even close.” He smirked. If anything his friend’s unamused demeanor just egged him on further.
Before he took another lighthearted jab though, Kiara tried changing the subject by asking, “Where’re Sarah and Cleo?”
“Restroom.” Pope easily explained.
Unable to resist the joke JJ asked, “Aw, crying over the big news, are they?”
“Oh my God, bro!” John B chuckled, rubbing his eyes. “Shut. Up.”
The young man took one last laugh at the gag before giving it up. He probably would have kept going with it, just for shits and giggles, if he wasn’t curious to know what the guys had actually been discussing when him and Kie first approached.
“We were talking the plan tomorrow.” Pope readily answered. “What we should do.”
Since it was technically their final full day in Bogota the Pogues decided they’d spend it doing some of the more touristy things they hadn’t gotten the opportunity to before then. John B and Pope had simply been bickering about that, having differing opinions on specifics; The former wanted to zip line or something equally as adventurous while the latter wanted a more cultured experience at a museum.
Both JJ and Kie joined in on the debate, as did Cleo and Sarah when they finally returned to the table minutes later. In the end all six of them came to an agreement on something before then deciding to call it a night. Within the hour they were all squeezed into a Lyft SUV and driven back to the hotel where they proceeded to pass out in their respective rooms.
The next day was more chill in terms of the vibe. Everyone slept in a little bit and no one even bothered to dress up when they left for their bike tour around the city— an excursion that sounded a lot better when they were drunk last night as opposed to hungover that morning. Still, they powered through and after about fifteen minutes their suffering was forgotten altogether because the tour turned out to a blast. Took them all around to different spots, letting them explore a little bit, to take pictures and ask questions. It was both informative and explorative, the perfect middle ground for everyone.
Once the tour ended they walked half a mile or so to visit this popular marketplace downtown that was filled with fresh produce and other home grown or homemade things. From jams to jewelry and everything in between, it could be found there.
What followed afterwards was some quick souvenir shopping at local stores for people back home but only half the Pogues wound up buying stuff. Both Kie and Pope did for their parents, as did Sarah for Wheezie but John B, Cleo, and JJ left empty handed. Seeing as they were all orphaned only children who didn’t have parents or siblings, no purchase seemed relevant.
By the time the group made it back to the resort that evening each of them was tired, fat and happy, with their stomachs full from an early dinner and their arms occupied by gifts as well as a couple cases of beer. Since hour wise the night was still young everyone decided to have one last pool party up on the roof, which had honestly become their designated place to hang out the last few weeks.
After changing into their swimsuits JJ and Kie grabbed a couple towels and took the elevator up to the top. They turned out to be the first ones there too, which was rather surprising because they were usually last everywhere thanks to his lallygagger of a girlfriend.
Being a good boyfriend he was, JJ waited for her to put their towels and phones down on a lounge chair before he bent down to pick her up by the legs. She gasped, naturally, warning that he better not even think about throwing her in. So, that’s exactly what he did.
Obviously.
The Maybank boy chucked his girl into the saltwater pool with a hardy laugh before cannon balling himself right in after her. Her splashing attack bombarded him when he came up for air though and he decided to retaliate by grabbing for her feet from under the surface.
He was able to snatch an ankle eventually, only to be kicked right in the stomach with it moments later. Thankfully she didn’t hurt him. Not really, anyways but the blonde saw an opportunity and immediately played up like it did.
“Ow, dude!” He hissed, swimming back away from her until his back hit the side of the pool. “Shit.”
Predictably Kiara sobered, hands covering her mouth for a moment. “Oh my God. Did I actually hurt you?”
With a put on grimace JJ nodded and rubbed his side. “You know my ribs is tender, Kie.”
“I’m sorry.” The curly haired girl apologized, eyes guilty but also still a bit playful as she swam towards him to gently grab his face. “I didn’t mean to.”
With a tsk he told her, “You play too much.”
“Jayj, aw, m’sorry.” She repeated with a dramatic pout. A childish one even. He found it downright adorable too. “Forgive me?”
JJ sighed, acting perturbed even as caramel legs softly hooked around his waist. “Now I’m gonna be all sore. Probably have a bruise.”
“Oh, the poor precious baby all hurt.” Kiara soothed him, dramatically scratching on his scalp while fighting a humored look. It appeared as though she might be catching on to his act. “You need a kiss to make it better?”
“Mhm.” The young man insisted all mopey, jutting out his bottom lip for extra sympathy points. “Lots of ‘em.”
She giggled, wrapped her arms around his neck and began scattering lingering little pecks across his jaw. They were wet and exaggerated in nature but JJ ate them up just the same, loving the unfettered affection she offered whenever they were alone.
It wasn’t that Kie wasn’t sweet to him when they were around their friends or anything— she was— but the Maybank boy could confess that they were both guilty of toning down their more embarrassing affections for one another when around the Pogues. Neither wanted to be seen as that corny couple who recited love poems to each other or spent hours under the stars acting like they were in some cheesy romance novel. That wasn’t them.
At least not usually.
Sometimes though, on a rare occasion, they’d get a little sentimental and sappy. Whispering sweet nothings to each other that they’d later deny saying at all. It happened a lot in New York, actually, and despite himself JJ loved every second of it. Reveled in it a bit, filling his weary heart up with her beautiful spirit and soaking in the warmth of her tender touch.
In so many ways he didn’t deserve it— didn’t deserve her, not in any sense of the word. Not as a friend and sure as shit not as a girlfriend.
Yet, for whatever reason, Kiara didn’t see things that way. She could be delusional like that, always seeing the best in him. Kept insisting he was a good person who was worthy of her time, swearing that she didn’t want to be without him, that her life was better when he was around. That he made her happy. She seemed entirely convinced it wasn’t a wasted effort, loving him, and there was no talking her out of it either. JJ would know too, seeing as he tried a few times himself.
With one last soft press of her lips on his cheek Kie’s lovely trail of kisses came to an end. “All better?” She then asked, chestnut brown meeting ocean blue.
“Nu-huh.” The blonde grumbled, shaking his head before leaning down and catching her bottom lip for a proper kiss. She tasted of cinnamon gum, delicious and spicy all at once, a too-quick little taste for his hungry heart.
When it broke he pressed his forehead against hers, playfully bumping her nose in the process and basking in the quiet chuckle it conjured. Her beautiful, beaming smile was a sight to behold, never failing to steal the very air from his lungs.
It was instinctual— involuntary— for him to breathe out, “I love you.”
You make me so happy.
You’re everything.
My whole Goddamn world.
“I love you too.” Kiara whispered, unwinding an arm from around his neck and sneaking it down between them so she could harshly poke at his feigned injury. When the blonde’s only response was a stifled laugh she let out a knowing little scoff and accused him of being a— “Big faker.”
She knew he was lying about being hurt and he knew she knew.
“I’m just a widdle baby.” Was his poor justification, delivered in this ridiculous cutesy voice he buried into her neck.
Kiara snorted in amusement but still played along, “Oh, what a widdle princess. He just needs to be protected that’s all.”
When he fake whimpered against her collarbone the brunette burst into a fit of giggles and declared him an absolute weirdo. For another minute or two the couple kept goofing around, teasing one another and poking fun. They also started to make strange noises and do odd voices just to get the other to laugh until they both ended up breathless from it all.
Unfortunately the carefree joy didn’t last though. Just a quick turn of the young woman’s head and the air surrounding them shifted from lighthearted to something more serious. Somber, even, if Kiara’s eyes were any indication.
There was this far off look to her that JJ didn’t quite understand. And, come to think of it, she had been kinda quiet all day. Not necessarily sad or grumpy just distracted, almost. Like she had a lot going on in her head and he was curious to find out what.
So, after lifting his hand to tuck some loose hair behind her ear, the Maybank boy inquired about it, “You all right?”
“Uh-huh.” Kiara nodded, finding blue eyes only for a moment before looking away again. “Yeah.”
It was hardly a convincing answer but JJ didn’t press. Not yet, anyways. Instead he followed her line of sight out to the Bogota skyline around the hotel. Breathtaking it was, a full three-sixty view that had become his favorite spot in the crowded city. Up there everything just felt so alive, from the frantic traffic moving down below to the plethora of lights illuminating every building but unlike most places in the urban area, it wasn’t loud or overwhelming. There was a peacefulness to it, where he could watch the chaos from afar without feeling engulfed in it.
JJ wouldn’t miss Bogota itself. There was way too many people and not nearly enough water around for his liking. He was kind of bummed about leaving South America as a whole though, having explored so little of it. Plus, there was this part of him dreading a return to Kildare.
He worried that reality and responsibilities and plain old normalcy might be enough to shake the foundation him and Kie had carefully been building. His biggest fear was that now, with the treasure hunt officially done, she would have no reason to stay. That the thrill would start to wear off for her and she’d finally realize her delusion these past few months.
Granted he knew that, logically, it made little sense seeing as the girl spent years hanging around him no problem prior to entering the G game. But that idea still lingered in the back of his head all the same, terrifying and heartbreaking even in theory.
“Think you’ll miss this place?” JJ wondered aloud after a long stretch of quiet, curious if that was the reason for her melancholy.
“No.” The brunette replied with a slight shrug, meeting his gaze once more. “Not really. I mean, I don’t really care for it here so…”
Fishing for more information he asked, “You ready to get back to the Outer Banks?”
In lieu of answering she countered with her own question, “Are you?”
“I asked first.” He replied, refusing to give away the answer even when dark eyes searched for it.
“Well, I asked second.”
“Exactly.” That was literally his point.
Kie smacked her lips before unveiling a new tactic. “Can’t you just be a gentleman and answer first?”
JJ refused to bite on the blatant play.
“Nice try, bro.” He smirked. “But the gentleman rules are on my side in this: s’ladies first.”
“That’s sexist.” She argued in a disapproving tone.
Blue eyes rolled halfheartedly. “Yeah, well, you’re a feminist.”
“So?”
“So you think everything is sexist.”
Kiara scoffed in offense. “Maybe you’re just a misogynistic dick. You ever think about that?”
“And maybe you’re just tryin’ to pick a fight so you won’t have to answer my question.” The Maybank boy hypothesized, receiving only silence in return. That’s when he knew he was onto something. “Which only makes me wanna the know the answer even more so ‘c’mon.”
”JJ…” She sighed.
“Fess up little miss. Don’t make me build the smoke circle over ya.”
His girlfriend pulled a face at the comment. “We’re not even smoking.”
“I disagree. You’re always smokin’—“
Kiara cut him off with a tsk of her own. “Don’t finish it—“
“Smokin’ hot.” He was dead proud of himself for that one.
With this amused breath the brunette muttered, “So stupid.”
“I’m being deadly serious.” JJ doubled down, swiping a thumb over her collarbone while his other hand slid further up her waist under the water. “You’re a whole smoke show, Kie. It’s a miracle you ain’t set the world ablaze, that’s how hot you be. For real.”
“Stop it.” Despite the young woman acting perturbed he easily caught her flattered little flush.
“Them legs alone is lethal. You could choke me out with ‘em if you wanted to. Like a snake, just squeeze the life right outta—
“Oh my God!” Her hand shot up to cover his mouth, effectively cutting him off. “Shut. Up. So obnoxious all the time.”
Once his freedom of speech was restored the blonde assured her, “S’all part of the charm, sweetheart.”
“What charm?” She quipped, raising an eyebrow.
JJ laughed. “Hey you tell me, girlfriend.” The brunette’s smile twitched up but she still remained frustratingly mum on his previous question. In the end he was left with no choice but to push, “Seriously, Kie, c’mon. You been hella broody today—“
“No I haven’t.” She denied.
He ignored the interruption entirely. “— and years of experience tells me that means you’re in your head all worried about something. So what is it? What’s up?”
After an exaggerated sigh and him raising an expectant eyebrow her way, Kiara finally offered some clarity. “I don’t know. It’s just… coming up a lot quicker than I expected.”
Returning to Kildare, that is.
Honestly, JJ felt much the same. Three days ago, when their lives were still consumed with stress and uncertainty, he couldn’t wait to get back home so he could finish fixing up the Shack and officially start moving back in there. Now, however, with all the carefree explorations and unburdened joy of the last couple days, it was a different story entirely and he wasn’t exactly thrilled to leave the fun behind for their drama filled hometown.
Apparently neither was Kiara.
Unfortunately for them the decision to do just that had already been made and agreed upon by all the Pogues. Tomorrow they were set to leave on a long bus ride to Santa Marta where The Palace was docked, awaiting one final voyage. Limbrey reluctantly decided to let them sail the yacht back to Charleston, taking pity on Cleo’s (technically) unlawful immigration status in America, but Carla did warn of a pretty hefty bill coming their way as soon as they got to the states. Not to mention the money they’d owe for any and all damages inflicted to some of the interior, such as JJ’s busted bathroom door and John B’s broken bathroom mirror. Amongst other things the boys destroyed, either out of anger or just pure stupidity and recklessness.
“S’not comin’ up that quick.” The blue eyed boy stated, trying to convince them both of that fact. “Y’know? We still got, what? Another five, six days before we make it to Kildare?”
Their bus ride tomorrow would take basically an entire day, followed by at least three days of sailing back to America and another spent in Charleston, depending on how late they arrived there.
“What if….” Kiara began, manicured eyebrows furrowed in this nervous contemplation, “… we didn’t sail back home with everybody?”
A little thrown by the hypothetical question he simply asked, “And do what? Stay here?”
“Or we could… fly… someplace else.”
Though the suggestion sounded rather intriguing, JJ wasn’t convinced it was entirely realistic. Both had responsibilities to get back to. He still had a couple months of working for his uncle to pay off and she, well, the brunette had a whole list of promises to uphold with Mike and Anna.
In order to secure her parents signature on emancipation papers, Kie was forced to make a few concessions to them: Her job at The Wreck being the first, which the girl didn’t seemed too bothered about maintaining. Weekly family dinners was another one. She seemed less thrilled about that. Third was over her education, with the youngest Carrera being pushed to agree that she’d either finish high-school outright or get her GED. (She’d definitely do the latter.) The biggest promise of all though, the one JJ knew his girl had to be dreading the most, was her going to trauma therapy. While Mike and Anna were no longer interested in family counseling, because of Kie’s nightmares as well as her recent episode of not eating, they were now adamant that she go to some form of therapy by herself once a week.
He seriously doubted she was stoked to start that.
“Think about how much fun we’d have.” Kiara further enticed, “A chill little vacation, just you and me.”
It did sound damn good, he had to admit.
So, with a playful grin he indulged in her fantasy a little, “All right, I’ll bite. Where we gonna fly to?”
“Anywhere. I don’t know.” Shrugged the girl. “Somewhere.”
“Over the rainbow?” He joked, referencing The Wizard of Oz.
“Yep.” Kiara nodded. “Way up high.”
The Maybank boy laughed while lifting a hand to fondle one of her gold peace sign earrings, “Well I hate to break it to ya, Dorthy but you already clicked them heels. Kansas is waitin’ just around the corner.”
“Aruba is closer.” She pointed out, undeterred. “Good surf, lots of flamingos.”
JJ grinned at the comment, recalling a conversation they had not too long ago about him wanting to feed the weird little stick legged birds. “I hear they even got sea turtles there too.”
“Perfect!” Kie exclaimed, those beautiful brown eyes filling with excitement. “I’m sold. We’ll book plane tickets tonight.”
With a huff he gently pushed her face to the side and muttered, “Get outta here, dude. You’re lyin’.”
It was a wonderful, wild idea and there was absolutely zero way she being for real about it. The young man was completely convinced this was just her messing with him, trying to get his hopes up so she could rip the rug out from under him for jokes. Bitch loved a good prank, after all.
But then she insisted— “I’m being serious.” Said it in this soft but certain tone too, eyes unwavering, earnest. Dare he say honest. “If we wanted to, we could start our surf trip tomorrow. Destination one.”
“Kie…” The Maybank boy ended up trailing off in his protest because why, exactly, had he been doing that with his dream vacation to begin with?
He was an idiot sometimes, plain and simple.
“What sounds better to you, JJ?” Prompted the brunette. “Living with John B and Sarah for a couple weeks until our roof is fixed? Or spending that same time surfing, with me, in paradise somewhere?”
To recap his options were:
1. Going home and being crammed like sardines into Ward’s condo with four other people.
Or,
2. Relaxing on some beautiful island beach with his even more beautiful, and likely scantily clad, girlfriend all to himself.
The answer was about as obvious as her smug grin but unfortunately, right as he opened his mouth to give it, a loud yell rang out behind them. “Heads up, Bree!”
A split second later John B was cannonballing directly onto JJ’s back and knocking the couple off balance in a dick move that effectively ruined the peaceful moment. Behind the Routledge son was the rest of their friends, all appropriately dressed in their swimsuits and carrying cases of beer, clearly primed for a drunken pool party.
Chaos ensued all at once. Cleo immediately backflipped into the pool with the others while Pope tossed a few bottles the guys’ way and Sarah asked JJ where his phone was so she could play music.
After opening a beer and handing it to Kie, the young couple shared this secret, longing look. Though no words were spoken, so much was said. He could tell she was bummed their discussion of ditching their friends to explore the world was interrupted— as was he— but in a split second JJ relayed the promise to bring it up again, whenever they got a moment alone.
Their final night in Bogota was perfect. What started as just a few drinks and a couple overly competitive games of Chicken fight quickly descended into your typical Pogue gathering. Things got loud very quickly. They joked around, goofed off, got faded and enjoyed the broad spectrum of music that existed on her boyfriend’s phone.
It had been a lot of fun. Things felt… easy, lighthearted. Simple. They weren’t being hunted down, weren’t hiding, didn’t need to stress about life and death situations nor legal ramifications or anything else at all, really. Not anymore— not for the foreseeable future at least.
For the first time in what felt like forever it was all the good vibes and unabated joy for the Pogue family. That is until some hotel worker came up on the roof around one to tell them pool hours were over.
The next day Kiara woke up absolutely exhausted because for the better part of that morning her and JJ had been either packing, playing, fussing, or fucking.
Whenever they got back to their room last night the pair decided to let fate dictate their… well, fate. Being the mature adults they definitely weren’t they put the power in God or the universe and played a game. It was a simple one involving a coffee mug and a couple of pens. Only they didn’t have any of those so they used her tampons instead. The goal was to toss the applicators into the cup from a far distance after stating a hypothetical scenario. If the tampon landed inside the mug then the statement was to be made true.
On Kie’s first attempt she started off simple by saying, “You’re gonna stop slapping my ass.”
“What?” Her boyfriend sounded so crushed over the idea.
Luckily for him, she missed.
The young man’s relief was blatant too. “Thank God. Wooo.” In some weird celebration of her loss he smacked the area in question, then added, “I was ‘bout to cry.”
Sad thing is, he was being dead serious.
When it was his turn to go he also chose to mention her ass, claiming she’d let him explore her, as he put it, ‘back door’.
The throw was dangerously close to but still no dice and honestly the brunette couldn’t quite decide if she felt relieved or disappointed in that outcome. Either way there wasn’t time to dwell on it because her turn was next.
“You’ll go furniture shopping with me and Cleo.”
He had been refusing to for weeks so when the applicator tinked inside the mug Kie had no choice but to rub it in JJ’s face.
Out of spite his next statement was, “We’re getting a sectional for the living room.” Because his petty ass knew she hated them.
Fortunately for her, his next shot hit the mug’s handle.
A couple more uneventful turns went by, both missing every single shot. Then round two began.
“We’ll sail home with everybody.” Upon making the statement, Kiara proceeded to chuck the tampon behind her head.
JJ burst out laughing. “What was that?”
“Oops.” She feigned disappointment. “Guess we can’t do that now. Damn it.”
Blonde hair shook. “Filthy fuckin’ cheater.”
“My fingers slipped.” Though her lie was obvious Kiara couldn’t care.
JJ’s next throw was fruitless, as was hers. But the blonde’s turn after that ended up being the last of the whole game because after he said, “I’ll take ya to Aruba,” the tampon applicator sunk into the glass cup like a three point shot in basketball.
It was fate, truly. In every sense of word.
Following their celebratory jumping, the couple immediately rushed to book plane tickets. The options were fairly limited on such short notice but they ended up finding and purchasing two seats on a tiny plane in Santa Marta that left for Aruba in thirty-nine hours. They made sure to reserve themselves a room at this four star beach resort in Oranjestad too before then proceeding to check if any Air BnB’s would become available within the two, three week timeframe they were planning to stay.
Once the basics were ironed out and transactions went through her boyfriend, with a crooked, dimpled grin warned, “Ain’t no backing out now.”
She merely kissed him, unable to speak from all the glee burning in her soul. It was overwhelming and wonderful and the only way to cope with everything they felt in that moment was to lose themselves in each other, making love slow and sweet as the sun came up.
The only drawback was that it left them with hardly any time to actually sleep, only managing a brief forty-seven minute Power Nap before Pope was hammering on their door for morning check out— hence Kiara being absolutely exhausted.
On the way to the bus station her and JJ told their friends of their altered plans. The guys took it fine, more than used to the pair wandering off together somewhere for some ill advised adventure. Cleo had been worried initially but only about what that meant for the Shack’s roof repair timeline. After being reassured by Maybank boy that it wouldn’t change, she wished them luck. The lone Pogue who wasn’t fond of the idea was Sarah. Apparently she had been looking forward to sharing Ward’s condo with everybody for a couple weeks and she hadn’t stopped giving Kie a hard time about ruining that for her.
The Cameron daughter’s most recent angle was the classic guilt trip, “You’re ditching us.”
“You don’t have to put it like that.” Kiara tsk’d, searching in her bag for something other than lip gloss plumper to put on her dry ass lips.
With t-minus ten minutes to departure, all three girls were sat in their respective rows of the bus doing their make up whilst the guys bought drinks and snacks inside the station.
“How would you put it?” Sarah countered mid-mascara swipe.
“We’re just… extending our vacation.”
Cleo laughed from the row in front of her, sitting cross legged on the aisle seat and leaning her head forward to make herself know. “You should become a lawyer, Kiara.”
She puckered her lips in agreement and nodded. “Mm. We could probably honestly use a lawyer among us.”
“You aren’t lyin’, girl.” Cleo readily agreed. “With how much trouble your boy gets us into.”
“My boy?” Kie scoffed, pointing a finger at Sarah beside her in the opposite row. “What about hers?”
“What did John B do?” Wondered the blonde girl.
“He started this whole thing.” She reminded. “He even went to jail!”
Talk about trouble.
“So did JJ.” Countered the Bahamian girl.
Dark eyes rolled. “Only for, like, twelve hours.” Pointing at the raven haired girl she asked, “And what about your boy? He chased a cross around the world, taking over ships and jumping on trains.”
Sadly to no avail.
“He wasn’t my boy then.”
“Mhm.” Kiara sarcastically hummed. “Whatever.”
Cleo chuckled, insisting, “That happened when we were just friends.”
“Just friends like Kie and JJ were just friends?” Sarah piped in, making the other girl laugh.
“No, actual just friends.”
“Oh, shut up.” The young woman complained, pulling an irritated face.
After flipping them both off she went back to finishing her make up in silence. That is until Sarah, yet again, brought up the subject of Aruba. Telling her, “I just hope you know parents are going to kill you.”
They definitely weren’t going to be thrilled about it but that was a problem for another day.
Obnoxious laughter rang out from the front of the bus a short while later. It was all too familiar for Kiara so she looked up and saw the three stooges themselves loading onto the bus while cracking up at lords knows what. As they walked towards the girls she overheard tidbits of their ongoing conversation but without context it didn’t make any sense.
“You’re lying.” Pope insisted, leading the pack through the aisle with their plastic bags of goodies.
JJ smacked his lips. “Nah, I’m being serious, dog.”
“Well I don’t believe you.” The raven haired revealed.
“Yeah, it doesn’t make sense, JJ.” John B spoke up. “I don’t buy it.”
Said boy took offense to that. “All right, bet. I’ll show ya.”
“Go ahead.” JB egged on. “I have to see it for myself to believe it.”
“You won’t see it.” The Heyward boy confidently assured with a chuckle. “Guaranteed.”
“Just— watch then.” Demanded JJ before shushing them like it was some big conspiracy.
Upon arrival to the back of the bus Routledge boy muttered, “Oh, we’re watching.”
“Howdy boys.” Kie greeted, only to furrow her eyebrows in suspicion a second later.
It didn’t exactly take a genius to observe their weirdly polite demeanors as they predictably took the empty seats next to their respective girlfriends (fiance for John B). Something was odd about it, for sure, but that could mean anything or nothing with the guys.
On her boyfriend’s way to sit down he pressed a wet kiss to her forehead, over her boho headband, and grinned. “Hey, Kiara.“
“What’d you buy?” She wondered, trying to catch a peak inside the bag of goodies.
Blue eyes quickly rolled despite his fond smile. “I got your precious Hot Cheetos, don’t worry.” He lifted a few other items to show her, including a Green Tea and some gummy bears before he stashed it underneath his seat for later.
With a happy smile she lifted her hand to scratch his chin in— “Thanks.”
“No problem, Kiara.”
Her lips quickly downturned at the strange response, wondering why JJ used her full name right there. Again. For the second time in less than a minute. It wasn’t that he never called her by it because, obviously, he did. The blonde just typically reserved her legal name for more serious and/or intense moments— either good or bad. If they were fighting and he was stressed, he’d use it. If they were being intimate, staring into each other’s souls and lost to the rest of the world, he’d whisper it with enough reverence to bring tears to her eyes.
Outside of that he typically called her anything else under the sun and she kinda preferred things that way. It made it all the more precious when he did call her Kiara. At least when they were on good terms. If they were arguing, him saying it only helped in that it made it easier to figure out his mindset in the moment, to know how close to a self destructive spiral he was.
While her boyfriend didn’t appear upset or anything right now, the rare out of pocket use of her name left the young woman a touch concerned. So, she flat out asked him, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, Kiara.” JJ nodded, looking at her like she was the one acting odd. “Everything is great.”
Brown eyes narrowed, equal part disapproving and suspicious. “Okay, what’re you doing?” She demanded to know.
“Nothing.” The liar. He was definitely up to something. One hundred percent. “Kiara, why’re you being weird right now?”
“Why’re you being weird?” Countered the brunette.
“I’m not.”
He was.
“You keep saying Kiara.”
This bitch had the audacity to furrow his eyebrows all confused. “So?”
“So you usually don’t is what I’m saying.”
“What’s it matter?” He asked with a laugh, properly gaslighting her at this point.
“I— it doesn’t matter.” Not in the grand scheme of things but still, “It’s just hella weird.”
“How? That’s your name, Kiara.”
Ignoring how obvious the Pogues were being in their eavesdropping of the conversation, she defiantly declared, “Not to you.”
JJ huffed his offense. “Not to me? What’s that mean?”
“Exactly what I said.”
“What am I supposed to call you then?”
“Uh, there’s Kie for starters!” Duh. “You literally use it all the time.”
“Yeah, but, y’know everybody calls you that.” He argued.
“Okay so something else then. There’s baby or babe.” Kie spitballed. “Dude would also be acceptable. I’m even cool with bro—“
“You want him to call you bro?” Sarah piped up, tone disproving of that option.
The young woman ignored her friend’s input, too busy focusing on her irritating boyfriend. “You can take your pick of whichever random name you think of.” Like darling, sweetheart, beautiful, etc. He called her a variety of names throughout the years and especially over the last several months so she wasn’t too picky which he used. “But unless we’re fighting or one of us is, like, crying I’m not Kiara to you.”
Their friends snickered a bit at the pointless bickering and petty couple drama.
“Okay.” Her boyfriend eventually sighed, acting put out by the news. “Whatever you say… Kiara.”
The brunette scoffed, entirely convinced he had to be trying to piss her off on purpose now. But fine, if he wanted to go there, she’d one up him. Go full nuclear option. “Okay. All right. That’s how’s this is gonna be, huh? We’re gonna be on a first name basis now… Jonathan?”
JJ audibly gasped, as did several other Pogues. Cleo was perhaps the most animated over the name drop, ended jumping up from her seat and immediately turning around to look at the boy. “No way!”
With a look of betrayal on his face the blonde stared at his girlfriend and said, “You bitch.”
She stuck her tongue out at him as Cleo asked, “You’re John too?”
“Three, technically.” Sarah corrected, referring to the fact that Pope’s legal name was also John.
“One, Princess.” Argued JJ. “I’m older than both of them.”
Kie snorted. “You don’t act like it.”
“Oh, shots fired.” The Routledge son commented on the drama, causing his ‘wife’ to chuckle.
“Real mature, bro.”
She shrugged a shoulder, fighting an amused smile. “You started it, Johnny boy.”
“Wow,” Pope began from his seat in front of them, his face barely visible through the gap between the seat and the wall, “you were right, JJ. She actually does hate when you say it.”
“Dude, I told you.” Her boyfriend replied, shaking his head in amusement.
That’s when Kie pieced together what happened, that him full naming her for no reason was directly connected to the conversation the guys were having on the way back here. It had been all about messing with her.
Douchebags.
“You’re such a dick.” She rolled her eyes in complaint and harshly backhanded his chest for the prank. “For the record I don’t hate when you say my name—“
“Are you sure about that?” Sarah teased, cutting her off.
Kie nodded vehemently. “Yes.”
“Seems like you kind of do.” Pope observed.
“You did sound pretty pissed—“
“Okay, you know what? Forget it.” The curly haired told them, voice clipped. “Call me whatever you want. I won’t answer to anything. Mk? I’m done talking to y’all.”
JJ simply laughed in response and tried to grab for her hand only to be slapped away. “C’mon. I was just messin’, Kie.”
“Nhm.” Grumbled the curly haired girl, petulantly crossing her arms. “Don’t try to touch me.”
Though she wasn’t actually upset with him, giving the guy a hard time was a favorite past time of hers and she was not about to pass up the opportunity to do it now. Not since he got to mess with her first.
After a beat of silence amongst the group Cleo accurately surmised, “So, that means you’re all named John.”
“No.” JJ lied.
“Legally speaking, yes.” The raven haired boy clarified.
Unlike John B, JJ and Pope were John’s in name only. Neither have ever gone by it, not in their entire lives. The former just happened to be named after his mother’s father, Jonathan Jack. He was a war veteran whom everyone dubbed JJ and from the moment her son was born Abigail had given him the same nickname. The latter was simply a junior. Scratch that, technically he was a third generation junior: John Heyward III to be exact. But much like his own father, who never really went by the name, neither did Pope.
“That’s crazy.” Cleo commented. “Do they not have the Big Book of Baby names in America?”
“Apparently not.” Sarah laughed.
Everyone continued talking amongst the group up until the bus departed for Santa Marta. JJ reached for her hand again shortly after the Pogues properly settled back in their seats, his fingers trying to wrap around her wrist. Crossed arms be damned. She made him work for it though, refusing to look his way and resisting his pull.
Eventually the young man whispered, “Baby.” Followed by a drawn out grumble.
Kie lasted another beat before she broke, a chuckle breaking out. Her arm got captured a split second later, the blonde snatching it up and possessively tangling their fingers together. Such a drama queen, he was. Something that became even more obvious when she finally turned her head on the back of the bus seat to look at him pouting pathetically.
It was adorable. He was adorable. Frustrating? Yes. Annoying and obnoxious? One thousand percent. Crazy? That was a given.
And she wouldn’t have it any other way.
A solid sixteen hours later their bus from Bogota finally arrived in Santa Marta. When it did all the Pogues were drained and dirty, long over due for a hot shower and a decent meal so they took a ride share to the marina and promptly passed out on The Palace for the night. The next morning, aka four hours later, JJ and Kie were set to depart for the airport and John B, along with the rest of the gang, were going to sail back home.
After breakfast the couple showered and bid their goodbyes to the boat, which became weirdly emotional for the Maybank boy. Despite the fact that most of his stuff was already moved out of there, it still somehow felt like home to him. Some of the best moments of his life were on the vessel and letting that go, well, it was easier said than done.
Kiara felt the same. She actually teared up a little bit and confessed to being glad they weren’t going to be there when it was returned to Limbrey. He understood why. In a lot of ways they didn’t see the yacht as Carla’s property anymore. The Palace was theirs now, if not by ownership than by the moments they had aboard, the memories sewn into their hearts, burned into their brain. Apart of the very fabric of who they are, who they’re becoming.
It was a bittersweet farewell, for sure, but it paled in comparison to parting ways with the Pogues.
JJ’s only real hang up about flying to paradise with Kie was splitting up the family. He always hated fractures in the group, much preferred sticking together no matter what. After all, it served them relatively well thus far.
Sort of.
He had to keep reminding himself that the treasure hunt was over, that no psycho killer was coming after them anymore. That their lives were normal again and splitting up wasn’t a potentially life threatening choice.
Whilst waiting for their ride share to show up and take them to the airport, JJ and Kiara offered their best friends a good, ‘see ya later’.
Since his girl took the guys took, the blonde started with his house mate. “Roofers are supposed to arrive next week. So just, uh, make sure you stop by a couple times? See it looks good and shit.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Cleo promised, extending her hand out for a Pogue handshake.
After snapping their fingers he tossed a flirty wink her way that she rolled her eyes at. “And try to get Pope into some trouble while I’m gone, yeah? Dude’ll get all strung out about school if you let him.”
The Bahamian girl nodded. “You got it, Jackie.”
Blue eyes rolled, officially done with her ass. “See ya, Patty.”
“Bye rude boy.”
Sarah was next, her amber orbs a touch solemn when they met his. It tugged at JJ a little bit and for a moment, neither said a word. Just stood there studying each other. She wasn’t his sister, that he knew. And yet he saw her as such all the same, bonded by trauma and some weird fucked up affair had between their dead parents.
In the end he just hugged her, finding that light years easier than expressing any of the messy words in his head.
“Stay out of trouble, Jayj.” The Cameron daughter told him when parting from their lingering embrace. “Or stay out of jail, at least.”
“No promises.” He grinned, looking behind her a moment. Kie was still huddled with the guys so JJ took the opportunity to add, “Look out for our boy, okay?”
John B, that is.
Sarah agreed on the condition he take care of Kiara in return, which was a given.
When he was done bidding goodbye to the ladies, the blonde joined his girlfriend and guys, who were talking about him.
“Keep him out the clink.” John B pleaded.
Pope hummed his agreement. “The last thing we need is JJ in some Aruban jail.”
His arrival interrupted Kie’s laugh. “I hear y’all talkin’ shit.”
“Talking facts, my dude.” Countered Bird, patting his cheek a couple times.
As he said goodbye to his boys, Kiara went over to the girl’s and did the same. He was just finishing up his bro hug with Pope when his phone pinged, alerting him to the arrival of his ride share driver.
“Chariot awaits, Kie!” He hollered after locating the Prius in the parking lot.
The couple then gathered their bags and loaded the car up before getting into the backseat themselves and waving bye to their friends one final time.
Once the Pogues were out of sight JJ and Kiara looked at each other, sharing this secret smile that was equal parts disbelief, nervousness and excitement.
“Last chance to call it.” JJ offered, giving her an out he felt confident she wouldn’t take.
Kie proved him right too by saying, “No chance.” Then, because she was the most perfect woman in the entire world, she also added, “Nothing to lose. Right?”
“Nothin’ to lose.”