Chapter 32 JJ
THIRTY-TWO
JJ
JJ cut in along the skirting board with her brush, taking it slow and precise along the edge, no taping required.
She hadn't absorbed a word of her audiobook for the past fifteen minutes, every thought captured and fixated on a certain blonde: the one who, apparently, had feelings for her and wanted more.
Not seeing Brooke for the foreseeable future didn't sit right.
The last week alone had been hard enough.
But when it came to her list, to her ideal, Brooke was right: she wasn't the type of person JJ pictured.
But who did she envision? A blurry woman in a pantsuit who, for some reason, always had a briefcase.
Be careful you’re not making up this ideal woman who doesn't exist, Jess’s voice rang through clearly.
Every single date she’d been on with who JJ thought might fit the bill had been an absolute bust. Especially the women who’d said they were one thing and ended up even more chaotic in person than Brooke.
JJ loved that at least with Brooke, her feelings came through in every smirk and every scowl. She kept things real.
JJ dipped her brush into the paint, methodically wiped off each side, and cut into the next section.
Okay, were there any parts of Brooke that did check off her list?
While Brooke didn't have her life together yet, she was actively working on figuring that out. She was also fun to be around and brought unbridled joy into JJ’s life that had been missing for so long.
Brooke made her laugh and always looked out for her—whether it was remembering her coffee order or giving her a lift up a steep section on a hike.
Brooke was exceptionally good at navigating and the kind of person who would sing her a song so she could pee in the bushes.
But that was beside the point. She was sexy, in an I'm-not-even-trying type of way.
Those tanned shoulders did JJ in. Every. Single. Time.
Still getting distracted.
JJ moved the brush along the edge of the skirting board.
Brooke’s values to help other people and better herself as a person really lit a fire within JJ. Not to mention her determination to make things work, no matter what life threw at her. That grittiness was incredibly hot.
JJ eyebrows rose higher with each point. She redipped her brush. Maybe Brooke did meet some of those deeper list items that meant more to JJ, those values that structured who she was as a person.
But what about those cons? Brooke said it herself: she was a walking anti-list.
She could drive JJ up the wall when she spoke her mind. Their disagreements grated, though they usually ended up being valid and helpful conflict. She also made JJ uncomfortable by challenging her to try new things and sway from their plans—oh.
Oh.
She was an idiot.
The brush slipped. JJ gaped at the smear.
She never slipped.
She grabbed her rag to wipe it up. Wet paint streaked across her hand. Oh for the love of—
Brooke entered her mind again, burger sauce everywhere, having the absolute best time of her life. Living in the chaos and going with it.
JJ stared at the paint on her hand. The corners of her mouth tugged up.
Maybe Brooke’s cons weren't cons after all.
Maybe it was JJ’s list that was a con. Something that needed to be pulled back, scribbled on and simplified—stripped down to her most important core life values.
Not a long list of rigid requirements. If JJ had been flexible with her list for just a second, maybe she could’ve listened to her heart: how it thrummed whenever she was near Brooke, the warmth she felt with the persistent need to be near her. It was never enough.
The paint dried on her hand. It stretched and cracked with every movement—a constant reminder JJ wasn’t perfect, even when she tried to be.
And neither was Brooke. But none of that mattered.
It was time to pivot.
Just over twenty-four hours later, JJ walked up the front path of Hayley and Marie’s and pressed the doorbell.
She stood straight, shoulders back, hands clasped in front of her and let out a quick breath. You got this. She bounced on her toes, tipping her head back to the sky. The stars twinkled above, and she took a deep breath of the fresh night air.
Brooke opened the door in an oversized shirt tucked into high-waisted jeans. It was perfectly casual, exactly as requested. “Hi.”
There was nothing better than those blue eyes and that smile aimed right at her.
“Hey,” JJ said. “Thanks for being on board with tonight. You ready?” She held out her arm.
“Yep.” Brooke turned in the doorway. “I’m off, see you later!” She stepped into JJ’s space and headed to the car.
JJ opened Brooke’s door for her, then went around and hopped in the driver’s seat.
“Is this really a date date?” Brooke asked, clipping her seatbelt on.
“Yes, Brooke, this is really a date date.”
“What changed?”
It was a fair question.
JJ pulled away from the kerb. “I’ve done some stupid things in my life, and I think holding onto my list as tightly as I had been was one of them.
My plan to find the right woman listed too many things.
Things I thought I wanted or that mattered but didn’t.
As a wise friend once told me, I think it’s good to have ideals or want to find someone whose values align with yours, but I’d made up these impossible pre-requisites.
It ended up sounding like an AI hallucination by the time I’d added the twentieth must-have trait to my list: a six-fingered, three-eyed woman with a four-handled briefcase. ”
Brooke laughed. “Well, when you put it that way, maybe it was a little unattainable.”
“Yeah. It made me think, who am I to judge someone like that?” JJ kept her eyes on the road ahead. The traffic picked up as houses gave way to businesses and restaurants, and the lights of the Adelaide city skyline blinked into view. “I accidentally brushed paint over a skirting board today.”
“No, you?” Brooke replied in mock horror. “Not-a-hair-out-of-place JJ made a mistake?”
“That's just it, isn't it? We’re all human. To be human is to be flawed, but I was seeking perfection. Because that's what I wanted and what I strived to be: perfect at life—with my house, my business—and that’s what I thought I wanted in someone else. But I forgot about living. Heading away with you flipped everything on its head, and it took me a while to figure that out.”
The radio played softly between them. JJ adjusted the car’s air vents, trying to dry off her palms. Brooke was patient, head resting on the back of the seat as she waited for JJ to continue.
“When I made that mistake yesterday, it took me right back to that primary school memory I shared.” Heat clawed its way up JJ’s neck, claiming her cheeks and settling into a low burn.
“That time I tried and failed to draw within the lines of the colouring book. It should’ve been such an insignificant moment.
Why have I held onto it for so long?” She glanced at Brooke.
Brooke sat up straight. “Because it meant a lot to you. Those small moments are when we’re trying to learn who we want to be, but there’s that dissonance.
The difference between who we are in our heads, and what comes out on paper, or in our actions.
It’s learning and failing, but sometimes we take away the wrong lesson. ”
Brooke pulled the seatbelt away from her neck.
“We should’ve been encouraged to fail and try over and over again, but we were taught it was a bad thing, in different ways.
For me, failure meant losing my parents’ attention.
For you, failure meant not meeting your own high standards; failing yourself and the expectations of others. ”
“You know what’s worse?” JJ said. “I've been trying to prove that point my whole life. I’m a bloody painter—most of my days are spent colouring within the lines.” She laughed, but the sound was empty.
“Oh, wow. I never thought of that connection.”
“Me either, until yesterday, when I smeared that paint. I'd been thinking about you and our holiday. It made me realise… everyone is flawed one way or another. I’m always going to be the girl who sometimes paints outside the lines. And just like not expecting perfection in a partner, I need to not expect that of myself. Being me is enough.”
They pulled up to the restaurant.
“So long story short, that's what changed.”
“I had no idea.”
“Yeah, well, I don't exactly go around telling everyone my fatal flaws.” JJ shut off the car, rubbing her palms on her jeans. She snuck a peek at Brooke. She was smiling.
“JJ, seeking to better yourself isn’t a fatal flaw, as long as it brings you happiness. If you love the challenge of running your business and painting homes, then that’s admirable. Just make sure you’re still getting the fun and fulfilment from it.”
“I am and I do. Even if some of my expectations are a little high.”
“Thank you for sharing all that with me. I think we all try to hold ourselves to a different version of who we aspire to be. Someone smarter, faster, richer—or just better at colouring in.” Brooke winked.
“Whatever it is. It's nice to talk about it and know we're not alone.” She reached across, placing her hand on JJ’s knee. It was the first touch instigated by Brooke since they’d got back from the holiday.
The low buzz in JJ’s gut settled.
“So, with that somewhat cryptic message from earlier—where are you taking me?”
“To the only place I thought to embrace our flaws and imperfections and have fun while we do it.”
They got out of the car and stood in front of the red and black building. A glowing neon prawn opened and closed its claws on the sign.
“A seafood restaurant?”
“You’ll see,” JJ said, pulling her into the venue. “You got me with so many surprises on our trip, I thought it was only fair I planned a couple for tonight.”
The waiter handed them a bib and gloves. Brooke went to put them in, but JJ stopped her. “The gloves are optional, and I say we ignore them tonight.”
“Okaaay,” she replied, eyes narrowed.
Their waiter was back within minutes, dumping an entire bag of sauced seafood directly onto their table.
“Oh my god!” Brooke exclaimed as lobster, mussels, prawns and vegetables fell to the table in one giant heap.
JJ didn’t think twice. She dove into the saucy mess with her bare hands.
Brooke gasped, followed by the most melodic laugh to ever cascade out her mouth.
JJ revelled in her response.
“I wanted to get uncomfortable tonight,” JJ said, hot sauce squelching between her fingers, making her want to shudder. “And push outside of those lines I’ve been living in but have fun doing it!”
She gritted her teeth, smiling through it as she examined the sauce all over her hands. It undid something inside of her, breaking down those rules. It reminded her of being on top of the dunes again on KI and hurtling over the edge into the sandy mess.
“I’m here for all of this,” Brooke replied, eyes alight. Her fingers smooshed into the prawn pile. She picked one out, popped it in her mouth and closed her eyes. “Far out—that cajun seasoning.”
JJ took a bite of lobster. “So good!”
After five minutes it felt normal to be eating without cutlery. The sensation of touching the food first almost transformed the flavour in a weird way. Somehow it tasted brighter and JJ appreciated the textures more.
“So, what do people talk about on a date?” Brooke asked.
“Whatever we want.”
Brooke cracked a mussel open. “We’ve kinda covered the initial get-to-know-you questions.”
“I’m sure there’s a lot more to find out about you, Brooke Mayfield. Like who’s everyday Brooke when she’s not on the road travelling?”
“She’s a ‘sitting on her laptop in her PJs with a bun’ kind-of-girl, probably watching The White Lotus or Gossip Girl again.”
“Same. Though sans-bun.” JJ laughed and grabbed the last prawn, using it to mop up extra sauce. “I’m looking forward to discovering these other sides of you.”
That pulled a wide grin from Brooke. “Me too.” She stole JJ’s prawn and popped it in her mouth.
“Hey!”
Brooke licked her lips.
A pull elicited low in JJ’s gut. She clamped her legs together. Eating seafood should not be that sensual. She pointed a messy finger. “You’re lucky I like you.”
Brooke’s smile grew, making a sauce smear stretch across her cheek that JJ couldn’t wipe off even if she tried. Instead, JJ drew a heart in the leftover sauce on the table and added the letters “B” and “J” inside.
“So lame right?”
Brooke’s eyes widened. “Uhh, JJ, that doesn’t look like what I think you meant,”
“Sure it does, it’s our initial—oh.” JJ’s cheeks burned as she scrubbed the picture away.
“Here. I’ve got something better.”
Brooke drew a large letter W, then added two dots. Oh. They were boobs.
JJ giggled. Actually giggled, looking around the room and wiping the scribble away before the waiter came past.
“Embarrassed?” Brooke asked, eyes dancing. Oh, she was evil.
And so it went on—Brooke drawing ruder pictures and words, and JJ trying to erase them as fast as possible. She even drew a sneaky penis in a corner JJ had completely overlooked. The waiter saw it and scowled. JJ slid an inch down her chair.
They barrelled out of the restaurant in tears, grins so wide JJ’s cheeks hurt.
“You’re terrible.” JJ wrapped an arm around Brooke and squeezed, her senses bombarded with industrial strength soap. At least they wouldn’t stink like seafood all night—that was no way to finish off a date.
Plus, JJ had plans. New, boundary pushing plans.
She hoped Brooke would be on board.