Lean Into It
summary: The reader is Opie’s sister, and she is strictly off limits to Jax. But after a day at the beach with her friends, Jax can’t seem to shake the feelings he has for her.
word count: 5.3k
warnings/tags: 18+ only. MDNI. brothers best friend. forbidden love. annoying sibling banter. unprotected p in v. slow burn. smut. dirty talk. mutual pining/yearning. use of kiddo. use of pet names.
a/n: this one…I didn’t mean for it to be so long and it’s kind of all over the place but I love it so much. I did not proofread this one, just because I’m too excited to post it. I’ll catch them and edit as I go so any typos, grammar errors…sorry (: please like and reblog. Love yall 🫶🏻
It was summer in Charming, and the heat was both oppressive and lovely all at the same time. There really wasn't much to do except sit around and mope on the couch or hang around the clubhouse with your brother, Opie, and you certainly weren’t doing that. Not today. That was the last thing you wanted - to be surrounded by the lifestyle you hated that your brother was a part of. Sure, his best friend Jax was really really nice to look at, but that one was off limits. Ope made sure to tell you that every time a stare lingered just a little too long.
“Don’t even think about it, Y/n,” he would say between bared teeth, and you would respond with a roll of the eyes and stomping away. It may have been childish, but you didn’t care. If your older brother was going to treat you like a child, then why not let his perception be a reality.
So, no, you weren’t going to hang out around SAMCRO to be tortured by the hot man that you can’t have. No, instead, you texted your best friend.
“Whatcha doin’ today?” The text to Lindsey said.
“Beach with Mason and Patrick, come with, they’re bringing the jet skis.”
“Be ready in 20.”
Jet skis was all you needed to hear before tossing your phone on the bed and hopping in a shower. Mason and Lindsey had been together for about a year, and Patrick was his friend. Patrick was… okay. He was just a typical twenty-something. He was full of himself, and obnoxious, but if he brought you on his jet ski, you could deal with his arrogance for an hour or two.
After a quick shower, you threw your hair in two braids, got in your bathing suit and cover-up. In your beach bag, you packed up a towel, your Kindle, and a couple of High Noons, just in case. It wasn’t long before Lindsey pulled in your driveway, Mason and Patrick following behind her in a pick up truck trailing two Sea Doos. You smiled and waved at them before hoping in the front seat of Lindsey’s beat up Toyota.
The afternoon sun turned the lake into a sheet of glass. You could hear Lindsey's laughter from the shore as Mason punched the throttle, their jet ski leaping around the waves it created.
“You gonna stop bein’ lame and let me take you out?” He said, crouching down next to your chair where you had your nose buried in a book. It did look fun, you had to admit, but you didn’t trust Patrick.
All you could do was roll your eyes. The two of traded remarks like that towards each other all afternoon, and you knew that climbing on the back of that jet ski with him would’ve turned into some sort of frightening, sadistic punishment.
“Why, so you can throw me off the damn thing?” You said, closing the lid to your Kindle and tossing it into your bag next to you.
“I would never,” he responded, bringing a hand to his chest as if he couldn’t believe that you would even consider such a thing.
After a moment or two of contemplation, you finally got out of your chair, and followed him to the water. The jet ski was lightly rocking, close enough to the shore that by the time you waddled through the water to get there, the water was only waist deep.
“Here,” he said, grabbing a life jacket out of the dry spot on the ski. Patrick gently put the lifejacket on your before zipping it, and buckling it. “Comfy?”
“Very,” you responded sarcastically. He chuckled as he swiftly put his own life jacket on and swung his leg over the seat as if he had done this a million times. He looked at you from where you were standing, still in the water, reluctance hitting you like a ton of bricks. Patrick sensed it and patted the seat behind him.
“C’mon, hun,” he said, and you’d never imagined he would be so gentle. “I promise, I will not do anything to throw you off.”
You blushed and smiled before carefully settling in behind him.
"You are annoying,” you said, hooking your arms around him.
"So I've been told."
He eased the throttle forward, surprisingly smooth, and the jet ski cut across the water instead of jerking like you'd expected. You instinctively grabbed the straps of his life jacket..
"See?" he teased. "Was that so bad?"
"Shut up," you shrieked as he accelerated.
Ahead of you, Mason veered sharply, sending a thick wake of water toward your ski. Patrick laughed, an actual, carefree laugh that sounded nothing like the dry, irritating one you were used to. He quickly jerked the handlebars to return the favor to Mason and Lindsey.
"Oh, fuck no."
The engine roared, and your stomach dropped as the jet ski surged forward, skimming over the tops of the waves. You could feel your braids whipping behind you, and before long, you were giggling like a maniac behind Patrick.
"There they go!" Lindsey shouted, pointing at the two of you, prompting Mason to accelerate.
Patrick chased after them and the two jet skis darted across the lake like two kids playing tag.
"You trying to show off?" you yelled over the loud engine.
“Maybe,” Patrick responded in a cheeky tone.
Another tight turn sent a warm splash of water across your legs, a puddle of water at your feet.. You squealed, half in surprise and half because you were actually enjoying yourself.
"See? I knew there was a fun version of you in there."
By the time the four of you brought the jet skis back toward shore, your face hurt from smiling. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, and you didn’t care because you were having way too much fun. Patrick even took a breather and switched with you, teaching you how to drive. At first, you were scared, not breaking ten miles an hour, but once you built the confidence, you weren’t afraid to go fast.
When the jet ski finally skidded onto the sand, you hopped off a little too quickly, your feet unsteady from the water and the waves. Patrick reached out on instinct, steadying you by your elbow.
“Easy,” he chuckled.
“That was so much fun,” you ignored the unsteadiness of your own body, too much adrenaline still pumping through your body for you to care.
You unbuckled and unzipped your life jacket, tossing it on the set when you heard Lindsey groan.
“What?” You asked, turning to your friend to see what was wrong.
“You got company, girl.”
Following her gaze, your smile immediately faltered when you saw two Harleys parked beneath the shade of the trees that overlooked the beach. Leaning against one was your brother, his humongous arms folded and a smug look plastered across his stupid face.
“Super,” you muttered under your breath.
Beside him was Jax, a cigarette resting between his lips as he leaned against his bike. The two of them were watching you as the four of you made your way up the sand.
You sighed so dramatically, that Patrick wondered what the hell was going on.
“What?” He asked
“My brother,” you responded casually.
“The big guy?”
“The one already smiling like he’s ready to kill me.
Patrick laughed. “Can’t be that bad.”
You didn’t respond, you figured it would be best to let him see it for himself.
Opie pushed away from his bike before you even reached him.
“Well,” he roared, trying to make himself sound intimidating. You were actually embarrassed for him. But, it must have been working because Patrick looked… scared. “Look what the cat dragged in."
“What are you doing here, Ope?” You asked, completely ignoring his friend next to him, but you could see him out of the corner of your eye, smirking and bringing his head down to take a drag of his smoke.
He didn’t respond, he just looked Patrick up and down before turning back to you with an arrogant, amused smirk. “Just making sure lover boy here isn’t riding like an asshat.”
“Jesus Christ, Ope,” you groaned, embarrassment and heat filling your cheeks.
“Hey, look I would never-” Patrick started, but you cut him off with a warning look before he could go on any further.
“If anything, I was the one who had no clue what I was doing,” you smirked, proving a point to your older brother that Patrick wasn’t the dangerous rider, it was you.
Jax hadn’t moved an inch until you said that. Then, his attention shifted to you.
“You drove?” He asked, and you couldn’t tell if he was annoyed, concerned, or amused.
You glanced over at him. “Eventually.” Your response was short, and bratty. You wanted Jax to know that he really had no place, or business, asking you about anything.
“Picked it up fast, too,” Patrick said, he seemed proud, like he wanted to brag on your behalf. “She was nervous for about ten minutes, then I couldn’t get her to slow down.”
A faint smile tugged at Jax’s mouth. “Not surprised.”
“Really?” You asked, a bit of shock and surprise in your voice.
“Nah,” he responded simply before bringing the cigarette to his lips again.
He pushed himself off the Harley and wandered over, looking over your shoulder to look at the jet skis on the shore. He was so damn close to you that you could smell his cologne, mixed with leather and motor oil.
“A jet ski’s just a Harley on water, darlin’.”
“Is that right?” You asked with a chuckle, your voice filled with doubt and disbelief.
He nodded. “Sure, just got lean with it, instead of against it, just like a Harley. Fight against it too much, and it’s gonna toss ya.”
“Honestly, he’s not wrong,” Patrick agreed, but Jax didn’t even acknowledge that he existed. His attention just stayed on you.
“I figured you’d pick it up,” Jax said, that same smirk staying glued on his face. “You’re a smart kid.”
You folded your arms.
“Are you trying to get me to ride a Harley?” You asked, and his smirk quickly disappeared and now his face was filled with something different… hesitation.
“I would have liked to teach you…” he said. “That’s all.”
Opie looked at his best friend like he was out of his mind.
“Are you insane?” He growled. “Never gonna fuckin’ happen.”
Opie's protection was okay sometimes, but right now, he was getting on your last nerve. The over protective brother act was getting old, and you were tired of him treating you like a child.
“Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do?” You snapped, and Patrick was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Like he didn’t belong in the middle of this conversation.
“Calm down, I’m just saying, I would rather you not ride something that could kill you is all. Especially from Jax, because I like him too much, and then I’d have to kill him.”
Everyone was laughing now, except for you. You knew Opie was kidding, trying to lighten the mood, but you didn’t care. You hated when he teased you, treated you like a child. You hated the way he made Jax feel, too, since you noticed him immediately take a step back from the whole thing.
“He’s right, darlin’.”
Your head snapped toward him.
“What?”
“He ain’t wrong,” Jax said, and there was something in his tone that caught you so off guard. Jax was so out of your league, but for a moment, you thought maybe he was flirting with you, but clearly you were just delusional. And now, that familiar heat on your cheeks was back once you felt everyone’s eyes on you. You felt like those private feelings you had for Jax were on display, and now everyone knew.
So you forced a smile, looking over at Patrick, trying as hard as you could to not make him feel bad.
“Well, we better get going.” Lindsey cut in, picking up on the tension, and making a move to get you out of an uncomfortable situation.
Mason and Patrick got in their truck after giving you a huge goodbye. You could feel that Patrick had picked up on something back at the beach, but he just couldn’t tell what it was, and you felt his energy towards you change. Like he had suddenly lost interest in you.
The drive home was quiet, and you just didn’t have it in you to tell Lindsey about what was really going on. How you have these feelings for your brothers best friend. She would have lectured you about how it was wrong, and to just stick with Patrick.
By the time you were home and settled in, Jackson’s words were playing on an endless loop in your mind. I would have liked to teach you.
Why did it bother you so much? Was it because you believed him? Was it because for one moment you pictured it in your mind? Pictured the rumble of Jackson’s Harley beneath you, his voice in your ear, patient and teasing. His hand at your side telling you to trust the bike. To not fight the bike. Telling you you’ve got this. Good girl, that's my girl.
You sighed, shaking the thoughts out of your head. Shaking the delusions out of your head and to just accept that it would never happen.
“Stupid,” you muttered to yourself. But quickly, there was a knock on your door as soon as you hung your sandy bathing suit on the hook behind your bathroom door.
When you opened the door, Jax stood on your porch with one hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans, the other rubbing awkwardly across the back of his neck. His Harley was parked at the curb.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You just stared at each other awkwardly before finally, he offered a sheepish smile.
“I just…” He exhaled through his nose. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” you responded coolly.
“Okay,” he said, shifting on his feet nervously. You’d never seen Jax nervous before, so you were starting to think something was wrong.
“You came all the way over here to ask me that?”
“Not exactly,” he said, another shift and his jaw clicked and tightened as he was looking for the right words to say. “I actually came here to apologize.”
You blinked, and furrowed your brow. “What for?” You asked.
“For adding to it,” his blue eyed gaze finally met yours. “I should’ve just kept my mouth shut back there.”
You were amused now, leaning against the door frame and studying him.
“I mean,” you started. “Yeah, that was embarrassing as fuck.”
“I know.”
“It’s bad enough that my brother messes with me twenty four seven, I don’t need you, or anyone else, adding fuel to his fire.”
“I know,” he was ashamed now, looking down at his shoes. He felt bad, and part of you wanted to let it go, but another part of you wanted to keep it going - to make him feel as bad as you felt.
“That shit might have been funny when I was a little kid,” you said. “A teenager, even. But, I’m not anymore. I’m a grown ass woman and I don’t need him, you or anyone else stalking me, and giving me a hard time about anything.”
Another smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth. “It’s not like I was agreein’ with him darlin’.”
Your mouth was now opened in shock. What the fuck was he talking about?
“Are you serious?”
“Well, no,” he was getting tripped up now. “I was just reminding myself, talkin’ myself out of it.”
“What are you talking about?” You asked, puzzled. “Talking yourself out of what?”
“It’s just that,” his gaze drifted towards his bike, then back to you. “It’s just that some lines can’t be crossed.”
His words hung heavy between the two of you, and you had no idea what to say. And neither of you said anything for a few long, drawn out seconds.
But then, finally, you smiled, breaking the tension between the two of you. “Soooo,” you started. “So are you saying I don’t get my riding lesson?”
He looked up at you, his eyes filled with mischief, like he wanted to get in some trouble.
“Get your fuckin’ shoes on,” he said and you shrieked, quickly turning back into your house to get shoes. “Not those damn flip flops either. Sneakers, darlin’.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you shouted from the hallway.
Jax leaned against his Harley with a quiet sigh, one foot crossed over the other as he watched the front door swing open again a moment later. You hurried down the porch steps in a pair of plain white Nikes, still tying the laces as you walked.
“There,” you panted once you reached Jax and his bike. “Happy?”
“Cute,” he nodded towards the bike. “C’mon, let's go before I change my mind.” The ride out of town was quiet. You climbed onto the back without thinking much about it, your hands hovering awkwardly for a second before settling lightly around his waist. By the time he pulled into an empty stretch of cracked pavement of an abandoned parking lot, the sun had already started to set.
“This is a bad fuckin’ idea,” Jax said, swinging his leg off the bike and unbuckling his helmet.
“Why is that?” You asked, keeping you own helmet on and shimmying up to the front to grip the handlebars.
Jax quickly and gently grabbed your hands, making sure you didn’t torque the throttle without noticing. “Because every time I remember whose sister you are, I think I should know better than this.
“Opie’s never gonna know, Jax,” you looked at him from where he stood in front of you, crouching down and holding the bike steadily by the handlebars.
“Oh, he’ll know.”
Neither of you said anything, you just looked at each other like you were both going to take this one to the grave.
For the first few minutes, he didn’t even let you touch the throttle.
“Speed,” he finally started, “comes with time.” His hand was still resting over yours. “Don’t worry about going fast. Right now, all I want you to learn is to balance, and pay attention.”
He tapped the front brake. “This is the one that’s going to do the work."
He tapped the back. “This one is going to keep you balanced, kay?”
He nudged the handlebars gently. “Look where you wanna go. The bike follows your eyes more than your hands.”
You nodded, trying to commit every word to memory. But, he caught you smiling.
“What?”
“Nothin’,” you said, quickly adjusting your expression back to serious and focused.
“I’m serious, Y/n.”
“I know.”
He stepped closer, placing one hand over yours where it rested on the right grip.
“Easy, kiddo,” he said, his voice calm, in turn making you calm, to unclench your jaw and to take a deep breath. “You don’t gotta death grip it, just relax.”
You laughed as your fingers relaxed, and he nodded. “There ya go, good girl.”
The butterflies in your belly intensified, as if what you were daydreaming about not thirty minutes earlier was coming to life.
“‘Mkay,” he backed off just a bit. “Now just ease off the clutch, just ease, don’t go crazy, okay?”
He made his way to the side of the bike as you eased off the clutch like he said, but the Harley lurched forward, and you shrieked. He quickly caught the handlebars before you tipped the bike, and you rested your feet on the ground.
“It stalled,” he said calmly.
“Fuck,” you said, whining and nervous that you broke his bike.
“Relax, kiddo,” he smiled at you to calm you down. “Can’t tell ya how many times I stalled my bike when I was first learnin’.”
Your shoulders loosened at his affirmations, and he stepped back. “Try again.”
The second try was smoother. And the third was even smoother. By the sixth try, the Harley rolled along the empty pavement, slow enough where Jax was still able to walk beside you.
“There ya go!” He praised.
You couldn’t stop smiling, and he mirrored your smile as you made it to the other end of the parking lot. “Little more throttle,” he encouraged, and you obeyed. “Look at you go!”
Turning proved to be difficult, and you were starting to get nervous. Jax could tell you were starting to have enough of your lesson for the day, and when you coasted to a stop, he helped park it and put the kickstand down.
You pulled off your helmet, still seated and you could feel your cheeks flush with excitement. Jax looked…proud.
“I did it.”
“You did it,” Jax repeated. “I knew you’d be able to.”
You laughed, and threw your arms around him, unable to contain yourself. The hug lasted a second, maybe two before you immediately broke the hug.
“Sorry.”
His hands had instinctively come up around your back before he’d caught himself.
“You don’t have to apologize,” he assured you. “It was cute, darlin’.”
“You calling me cute?”
“Well, yeah,” he said, and the two of you stayed put. You were seated on the bike, turned towards him, where he stood at the side. “‘Cause you keep bein’ cute.”
The two of you just laughed nervously, clearly flirting with each other. By the time the laughter faded, neither of you were in a big hurry to start the bike back up.
Jax looked at the Harley, then back at you.
“You know…” He stared.
“What?”
“You were right,” he admitted. “You are pretty good at this.”
Finally, he gave a quiet, almost resigned smile, and his blue eyes were almost looking through you now.
You hopped off the bike, avoiding his gaze. The two of you were both standing now, face to face with each other before you embraced him in another hug, and this time, he squeezed you back.
“Thank you, Jax,” you muttered against his neck, the scent of expensive cologne and leather intruding your nostrils, making you feel warm and needy for him. His leather kutte was rough against your skin as you clung to him.
Jax didn't move. He just stayed frozen in your embrace for a moment, his breath hitching as he felt your breasts pressed firmly against his chest. He could feel your heart beating against him, and he could feel his own hammering in his chest. He knew this was wrong, and he knew that Opie would kill him.
You tightened your hold, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent once more. "We shouldn't be doing this," you whispered, though you didn't let go.
Jax let out a dark, mischievous laugh before backing you up to sit back down on the seat. He trapped you between his body and the bike, his blue eyes filling with a longing he’d been holding on for months, maybe even years. He gripped your waist, his fingers digging into your hips.
"I know we shouldn't," he groaned, his forehead dropping against yours. "I've spent every fucking night thinking about how wrong this is. Thinking about how Opie would rip my god damned throat out." He paused, his gaze dropping to your lips. "But I can't stop thinking about you. I can't stop wanting to fuck you, darlin’."
The admission broke you, and it felt like you finally had permission. So you reached up, pulling his face down to yours in a desperate, deep kiss. Jax groaned into your mouth, his tongue swirling inside to claim you. He hoisted you up, lifting you effortlessly so you were straddling him right there on the leather seat of the bike.
"Fuck,” he groaned. “You're so perfect," he whispered against your lips, his hands sliding under your shirt to palm your breasts.
You whined out and he grinned at you again. “You gonna be a good girl? This gonna be our little secret?”
You nodded, and he immediately reached down, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them down to your knees. He ripped your underwear aside with a sharp tug, and you could feel his rock hard erection through his own jeans. He fumbled with his fly, freeing his thick, throbbing cock and guided the head of his cock to your entrance, rubbing it against your wet folds.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice dropping an octave. Strained, almost. You looked up, eyes wide and hazy with lust. "Tell me you want this.”
"I want you, Jax,” you whimpered. “Please.”
"That's my girl," he praised, a smirk playing on his lips. He gripped your hips firmly and thrust up in one swift and strong motion, burying his entire length inside you.
You gasped, your head snapping back as you took all of him. The position was a bit uncomfortable, the metal of the bike pressing into your back, but you didn’t care. You liked the way it made you feel used. Jax let out a guttural sound, his muscles tensing as he adjusted to the warmth and the tightness.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he hissed, starting to move, but struggling. He started with slow, deep strokes, making sure you felt every inch of him, every vein.
"You feel so fucking good, baby girl,” he whispered in your ear. “I bet you've been dreaming about this, haven't you? Dreaming about me filling you up while we're hidin’ in the dark."
"Jax... oh my god," you moaned, clinging to his shoulders, your fingertips digging into the leather.
"Shh,” he cooed. “C’mon baby, just take it," he whispered, his pace increasing. He began to buck into you harder and faster. His bike was rocking under the force of his thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the empty lot. "You're taking it so well. Such a little slut for me, huh baby?”
His voice was enough to make you tighten and flutter around him, and Jax could feel it. He let out a dark grunt, his movements becoming sporadic. He reached up to gently grab your hair, exposing the flesh around your throat as he dove in deep one more time.
"I'm gonna cum," he groaned, his voice breaking. "I'm gonna fill you up, baby. This is my pussy.”
With a final, rough thrust, Jax stiffened, his body shaking as he pumped hot loads of cum deep inside of you. You whined into his shoulder as your own orgasm crashed over you.
He held you steady in his arms while he was still buried inside of you. Both of you were panting in sync together.
The parking lot had fallen quiet by the time the two of you finally pulled apart, and you whined as he withdrew from you, suddenly very aware of your emptiness.
The Harley sat crooked beneath the glow of an old barn light in the parking lot, its engine long since cooled. The sound of crickets chirping and the evening breeze brought you back to reality.
Neither of you said a word, and for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Now that your adrenaline from the day had faded, you were left with something quiet, almost somber instead. You didn’t feel great, in fact, you’d felt terrible. You realized that there was no more pretending, no more daydreaming and fantasies. Whatever this was, between you and Jackson, it wasn’t make believe anymore.
You stared down at your hands, tracing your fingers with your other hand.
“You good, darlin’?” Jax asked as he stood up and buttoned his pants back on.
“Mhm,” you responded plainly. Jax could feel your apprehension, your nervousness when he slid his fingers underneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.
“Just thinkin’,” you responded, knowing that he was looking for an explanation.
“Don’t do that,” he smiled and you chuckled in response.
Silence settled again as he swung a leg over his bike, and you settled in behind him, cozying up against his back. You could have used a moment or two to catch your breath, and your bearings, but you were starting to worry that you were going to get caught.
Before Jax cut the engine on, he turned to look at you. “Seriously, whatcha thinkin’ about?”
“Nothing, Jax.”
“You think I’m just gonna leave now, right?” He said as if he was reading your mind. “Thinkin’ I’ve had my fun, and now it’s over?”
You looked down, ashamed that you were that easy to read. It almost made you feel a little pathetic.
He leaned forward against the handlebars, looking out across the empty lot for a long moment before speaking again.
“I’ve spent a long time telling myself that this was a bad idea,” Jax admitted, breaking the silence between you two.
“Really?” You asked, surprised.
“You think this just started at the lake?”
You could feel the heat creep up in your cheeks again, and you were a little thankful that he wasn’t looking at you.
“I don’t know when it started,” you responded.
“I do,” he said, looking back at you. “I just ignored it because…” he trailed off, unsure if he wanted to make this confession to you. “Because of Ope, but, I can’t ignore it anymore.”
You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything, you just let him finish his thoughts.
“So, don’t think that for one second I regret what just happened.”
“You don’t?” You asked, the surprise in your voice was palpable.
“The only thing I do regret is that you’re sitting here thinking that I’m gonna disappear on you,” he said, and you looked down. For some reason, that made you feel bad. It’s not like you didn’t know Jax. Didn’t know the kind of player that he was. How he’s not the relationship type, so why would he be so surprised that you felt that way?
You opened your mouth to speak, then closed it again. You didn’t want to tell him why you felt that way and make him feel worse.
He reached over to interlock his fingers with yours.
“You know me, darlin’,” he said. “And for that, I’m sorry.”
He knew who he was, and he knew that you knew, but for some reason, this time felt different for him. “But, you’re different.”
For a while, neither of you said anything. You simply sat there, your hand in his, the silence no longer uncomfortable.
Eventually he nodded towards the dark sky. “‘s gettin’ late,” he said, and you nodded in agreement. “Better get you home.”
The engine of his bike turned over and you slipped your arms around his waist without hesitation. He covered one of your hands with his for a moment and gave it a squeeze.
The ride home was unhurried. And the roads of Charming were damn near empty.
Your cheek was rested on the back of his kutte the whole ride back, and you listened to the steady purring of the engine beneath you. It almost put you to sleep, but every few minutes, Jax would reach back to brush his thumb across your knuckles, or to give your leg a squeeze to make sure you were okay.
When he pulled into your driveway, neither of you moved right away.
He killed the engine, and you climbed off first, turning to find him watching you with the familiar, unreadable expression.
“You hungry?” he asked.
You laughed. “Seriously?”
Ten minutes later, the two of you were sharing a basket of fries in an empty diner on Main Street, arguing over the jukebox and stealing sips of each other's milkshakes.
Then, he drove you home and walked you back up to your front porch, the tension between the two of you had eased into something much more comfortable.
You unlocked the door, then looked back over your shoulder. “Comin’ in?”
At first, he wasn’t sure. But then, he reached for your hand as the two of you stepped through your apartment together.
