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"Jameson Leanne Teller, where the fuck are you?"
Jax's voice echoed through the clubhouse and Jamie rolled her eyes and cast a glance across the room at she and Jax's best friend since childhood, Opie Winston. Opie grinned, that crooked smile that made her heart feel like it was going to pound out of her chest.
"What did you do?" Opie asked her, and she shrugged.
"My guess is we're about to find out," she said, and sure enough Jax burst through the door of the apartment a moment later.
"What the fuck, Jameson?" Jax demanded and Jameson looked at him, her eyes wide. She shrugged and could see her brother almost vibrating with the rage that he was always so ready to assert on someone.
"What now, Jackson?" she asked, doing her best to keep her voice steady and calm. She also had quite the temper that was always burning bright inside of her but she, unlike her brother, usually tried to keep it at bay.
Jax looked back and forth between her and Opie and seemed to relax just a little. He sat down on the bed beside her and sighed.
"Were you with Isaac last night?" Jax asked, his eyes soft. Jamie's gaze shifted to Opie and she knew her cheeks were red with a blush. Opie held her stare for a few moments and then looked back at Jax. Jamie's eyes made her way back to him too and she shrugged.
"Yeah. He called last night," she said, and Jax rolled his eyes animatedly.
"And you went? Come the fuck on, James," her brother said to her, all traces of his temper gone from his face. Now he just looked disappointed and slightly sad.
"Yeah, I did," Jameson said, softening in a way she only ever did around Jax and Opie.
"Why?" Jax asked her, and her eyes involuntarily flickered to Opie again. He looked like he wanted to say something, but she knew he wouldn't until Jax wasn't around.
"I don't know, Jax. You and everyone else were gone and it's so cold and way too quiet here when no one's around and I just got lonely. He called, I answered, I went, and I don't really have much explanation past that," she said, and Jax sighed heavily.
"I got shit to do right now, but tonight you're coming to the house with me and you're fuckin' staying there. I've told you a million times you can stay with me, and I'm not giving you the choice anymore," he said, and she nodded.
She'd known he was probably going to say something very similar to that so she resigned herself to it. He stood, kissing the top of her head gently before leaving the room and shutting the door behind himself.
A few minutes passed before she could look up at Opie. She knew as soon as she looked up, her gaze would connect with his caring hazel eyes but she couldn't quite look at him yet.
Probably being fully aware she was too embarrassed to look at him, Opie moved across the room and tossed one of his muscular arms around her. She leaned into him, comforted by the mixture of cigarette smoke, leather, and spearmint that he always smelled of.
"What the fuck are you doing, James?" he asked eventually, after she'd managed to choke down the lump in her throat.
"I don't know," she responded honestly.
Isaac was her ex... something. They hadn't really ever formally dated, and quite honestly she'd only ever started hooking up with him to distract herself from the ridiculous crush she'd had on Opie ever since she could remember.
They'd wasted a lot of time with each other, and then when she'd been the first female ever to become a patched member of the Sons of Anarchy motorcycle club, he'd gotten jealous and angry. He'd started beating on her and she'd started beating back. They'd always been volatile, but eventually they became a true danger to one another.
Jax, Opie, and the rest of the club had gone one night two years before and beaten him within a few inches of life, making him swear he'd never come around her again. She hadn't known it was happening at the time, of course, and had been furious even though she knew it was for her own good.
The club's message had been received for the most part, but there still were odd times when he called and she couldn't resist the distraction.
In all honesty, she didn't have a crush on Opie. She was in love with him, and had been since she was a teenager, and she was pretty sure he was in love with her too. They'd hooked up plenty of times over the years, but it wasn't just about that. She'd hooked up with plenty of people, but Opie... he was different and he always had been.
They'd always fought their feelings for one another because of the club. All either of them had ever wanted was to be patched, and when they finally both were at twenty-one, they'd had a conversation about how they both knew they could never be together because having her, a female, in the club already made her enough of a target for any enemies the MC might have, but her being a female and in a relationship with another member would've put both of them at risk.
Jameson looked up into his gentle eyes, snapping herself out of her thoughts. She reached up, smoothing a piece of his long hair. He didn't wear it down all that often, but when he did it made him almost completely irresistible to her.
She loved his hair; she'd joked when they were in high school that he should grow it out, and he'd taken her seriously and done just that and left it that way mostly because she liked it so much. He caught her hand as she pulled away, raising it to his lips. He kissed it gently and then lowered it, keeping his own long fingers wrapped around it.
"Next time he calls you, you let me know," he said, and she gave him a suspicious look. He grinned, shaking his head. "I'm not going to kill him. I'll just... help you resist the temptation."
"Oh yeah? How's that?" she asked, knowing she was moving full speed ahead into dangerous territory but not totally caring.
Opie didn't answer. Instead, he released her hand and raised his own up to her cheek, running his thumb over it gently. He leaned close to her and she closed her eyes, her whole body relaxing against him as his lips connected with hers in a slow and romantic kiss that seemed to be his specialty. Nobody had ever kissed her like Opie did, and she was sure no one ever would either.
Before they could move any further, there was a cautious knock at the door. Opie backed up, but just slightly.
"Yeah?" Jameson called, and another member of the club, Juice, poked his head around the door.
"We're at the table," he said, not casting a second glance at the close proximity between the two seated on the bed. Most of the club, Jax included, knew they were much closer than they seemed on the outside and knew better than to mention it. In fact, Juice himself had been punched in the gut by Jameson when he'd brought it up to her years before.
"We'll be there," Jameson told him, and he nodded and shut the door quietly. She stood, grabbing her cut out of an armchair and slipping into it and then crossing back to Opie and motioning for him to turn. He did so and she pulled a hair tie off of her wrist, wrapping his hair into a small bun on the back of his head.
"Thanks, darlin'," he said quietly, and she nodded. He stood and she stood on her tiptoes so that she could plant her lips gently onto his cheek.
"Here we go," she said, and he nodded back at her, opening the door and following her out.
