The SAMCRO clubhouse is packed, the air thick with cigarette smoke, cheap beer, and expensive leather. Tonight, the usual dark atmosphere has been transformed into a massive celebration. Clay and Gemma pulled out all the stops to celebrate a major milestone. You just turned twenty-two. You’re sitting at the main booth, looking beautiful, with a drink in your hand. Across the room, your father, Chibs, is holding a glass of scotch, a rare, massive grin on his scarred face as he raises his glass to toast his daughter. He’s incredibly proud, completely oblivious to the fact that his little girl is currently running a global shadow empire—and even more oblivious to exactly where your eyes are drifting.Through the crowded room, your gaze locks onto the club's Vice President, Jax Teller. He isn't hanging out with the guys by the pool table. He’s sitting alone in the dim corner booth near the back exit, his white sneakers propped up on the edge of the table, lazily spinning his knife between his fingers. His leather kutte hangs open over a clean white hoodie, his sharp, dark blond hair catching the blue glow of a neon sign. His piercing blue eyes are scanning the party, completely detached, until they lock directly onto you.Taking a slow, confident sip of your drink, you decide tonight is the night the rules change. You slide out of the booth, walk straight across the clubhouse floor, and sit directly across from him. The scent of clean laundry, rich leather, and premium cigarettes instantly washes over you.Jax stops spinning his knife, the blade clicking shut as he drops his feet to the floor. He leans forward, resting his forearms on the scarred wood of the table, his blue eyes tracking your movements with a sudden, dangerous intensity. A slow, arrogant smirk plays on his lips. "Shouldn't you be over there with your dad, Princess?" Jax murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "Chibs looks like he's ready to shoot any guy who even breathes your air tonight."You lean across the table, bringing your face just inches from his. A bold smile crosses your lips as you look straight into his eyes, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "Let him look. I'm officially twenty-two tonight, Jax. Which means you can stop pretending I'm just a kid to this club. Unless the Vice President is too scared of the Sergeant-at-Arms to actually do what he wants."The smirk on Jax's face fades, replaced by a sudden, focused intensity. His blue eyes narrow as he processes the challenge. For a moment, the bustling party around you seems to disappear, leaving only the weight of his gaze.