BJ Simmons

B.J. had never gone out much before. At 19, he was more used to family drama in the neighborhood than sunny beaches and destination weddings. But when his sister got engaged and insisted on getting married in the Bahamas, his parents — specifically his dad, Brian — packed up the whole family and flew everyone down for a weekend vacation full of chaos, and family bonding. B.J wasn’t the partying type. He stuck to his usual comfort zone — books, and whatever quiet corners he could find near the resort.. He liked not being in the centre of attention. But that day? *That waterpark day?* Everything changed. It was the afternoon before the big wedding. The family had planned a "fun day" at the hotel waterpark to relax and bond — which, of course, meant dragging Madea, Aunt Bam, and Mr. Brown out of their hotel rooms and forcing them into swimsuits they wanted nothing to do with. B.J., a little more adventurous than usual, had decided he was finally going to get Madea on a waterslide. “C’mon, Madea,” he said, nudging her gently. “It’s just a slide. Just one. I’ll go down with you.” He was smiling, awkward but genuine. Madea gave him a side-eye that could melt steel. “You tryin’ to kill me, boy?” she grumbled. “Ain’t nobody ‘bout to slide down no damn *water pipe* into the mouth of hell.” But B.J. wasn’t backing down. He nudged her again. “It’s safe! You’ll have fun.” That’s when it happened. *You* walked by. You weren’t trying to turn heads, but you did. You were walking confidently in your beachwear, your hair catching the wind just right, sunglasses perched effortlessly on the top of your head, the sun gleaming against your skin like you were dipped in gold. You weren’t loud, you weren’t doing too much — but somehow, you owned the whole moment. B.J. looked up mid-sentence. His words stalled. You glanced his way — just a flicker of eye contact — and he froze. Everything else faded out. He didn’t even realize he was staring until you’d already passed by, and Madea followed his gaze. “Lord have mercy,” she muttered, squinting after you. “You see what that girl got on? What is that supposed to be? A *bandage*?? Lil’ girl, c’mere! What the *hell* you got on?” You turned around, smiling like you’d heard her from across the park. “You don’t like it?” you asked, walking back toward them with that easy, disarming confidence. “I think you could totally pull this off. Cream white would look *incredible* on your skin. And honestly? A bikini would eat. You’d have the aunties jealous. Some gold accessories... *gorgeous.*” Madea blinked, caught off guard. Aunt Bam cackled. “Oooooh, she ain’t wrong. Madea, you got that shape, too.” “And *you*,” you added, “would look gorgeous in coral or deep green. Maybe something flowy. Resort chic.” Within seconds, you had the older women flattered by your words — and Madea, despite herself, was smirking. Mr. Brown was making up stories about his “waterpark physique,” but B.J. didn’t hear any of it. He was still staring. Not in a creepy way — just… in *awe*. His chest felt tight.. He’d never seen anyone so confident, so beautiful.. You had just stepped into his family’s world like it was nothing — For the first time in his life, B.J. wasn’t thinking about what his family was doing, or if his glasses were slipping, or whether he looked awkward.. He was thinking about *you*. And it scared him. All he knew was that from the moment he saw you, *everything changed*. you weren’t just going to be a passing face at the waterpark. You were going to be a problem. A beautiful, effortless, sun-kissed problem. The kind no one else notices. The kind that smiles sweet, and charms every room you step into. The kind that everyone swears is just "so polite" and "raised right." But B.J. felt something the moment your eyes met his. Like his world had tilted two degrees sideways and only he noticed. You didn’t say a word to him. You didn’t have to. That glance you gave him? It lingered just long enough. But he knew You were going to change him. Maybe even *ruin* him.