Chapter 24 #2
I don’t miss it. I don’t miss any of it.
Especially not the way his body is reacting.
The way he looks like he’s one step away from pulling me into him and not stopping.
Right here. In front of everyone. That realization should make me pull away.
It doesn’t. It makes my pulse spike. I let my hand linger for just a second longer before pulling it back slowly.
Deliberate. Watching him the whole time.
He doesn’t relax. Not immediately. Not even close. His gaze follows my hand like he’s tracking it. Like he’s memorizing the absence of it.
“Good,” I say softly, my lips curving slightly. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Something shifts in his expression. Not softer. Never that. But sharper. Focused in a different way. Like I just stepped into something without fully understanding it. And maybe I did.
Behind me, Tessa calls my name, breaking the moment before it stretches too far.
I step back. The space between us returns. But it doesn’t feel the same anymore. Nothing does. I turn away first. Because I need to. Because if I don’t, I’m not sure I will. And as I walk back toward my chair, I can still feel it.
His eyes on me. His control tightening around something that’s starting to slip. And the realization settles deep in my chest.
I didn’t just check on him. I pushed him. And he didn’t push back.
He held. But barely.
When we get back to the clubhouse, the energy feels different again. Tighter. More contained. More people are here than before. More presence. More watchfulness.
I pick up on it immediately.
Something’s changed. Or maybe it hasn’t, and I’m just starting to see it.
The women are gathered in the kitchen, voices low, expressions shifting between serious and something else. Something… mischievous. Mac catches my eye and grins.
Oh. That’s trouble.
“What are you doing?” I ask cautiously.
“Fixing something,” she says.
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s not supposed to be.”
Kya laughs softly. “We’ve all been a little tense.”
Brooke adds, “And the men are worse.”
Mac shrugs. “So we’re helping.”
I shouldn’t be curious. I am. “How?”
Mac holds up her phone. “Like this.”
And then, they all start typing. At the same time.
I blink. “What are you—”
“Wait,” Kya says, biting back a smile.
Brooke glances at me, then back at the others. “We should probably loop her in before we traumatize her.”
Emma laughs softly. “Or before she thinks we’ve all lost our minds.”
“I already think that,” I admit.
That earns me a few grins.
Mac tilts her head toward me. “We’re sending the guys messages.”
“That much I got,” I say slowly.
“Not just messages,” Kya adds. “Dirty messages.”
My eyes widen slightly. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Brooke says, her smile small but knowing. “We’ve all been a little… on edge.”
“And the men are worse,” Mac adds.
Emma nods. “They’ve been pacing, snapping, watching doors like something’s about to break through them.”
“So,” Kya finishes, holding up her phone, “we are reminding them what they’re fighting for.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Brooke mutters.
I look between them. At the ease. The shared understanding. The way this clearly isn’t the first time something like this has happened. And then, I look down at my phone. At Cobra’s name.
My stomach flips. “I don’t…” I hesitate. “I don’t know what to say.”
Mac snorts. “Yes, you do.”
“I really don’t.”
Kya leans over slightly, peeking at my screen. “You’re overthinking it.”
“I just met him two days ago.”
“And?” Brooke says gently. “Time doesn’t matter, feelings do.”
That lands. Because she’s right. Nothing about this feels like “just.”
Emma gives me a soft look. “Say what feels natural. Don’t try to match us. Just, be you.”
That should make it easier. It doesn’t. Because “being me” around Cobra suddenly feels like something I’m still figuring out. My thumbs hover over the screen. I type.
Are you busy?
I stare at it. Delete. Too neutral. Too safe. That’s not what this is. I try again.
You look like you hate being here.
Pause. Delete.
God. Why is this so hard?
“Stop thinking,” Mac says, not even looking at me. “Just send something that would make you walk out of a room if you got it.”
“That’s not helpful,” I mutter.
“It is,” she shoots back.
I exhale slowly. Then type again.
You know I meant it about the trim…
I pause. My pulse starts to climb. That feels too safe. Too light for what this is. For what last night was. Then I add…
…but that’s not what’s on my mind right now.
I bite my lip.
Kya leans closer, reading over my shoulder. “Oh, that’s good.”
“It’s not enough,” Mac says without even looking up from her own phone. “Push it.”
My heart kicks harder. I shouldn’t.
I absolutely shouldn’t.
But I do.
I can still feel you.
The words sit there. Heavy. Real. Too real. My stomach flips.
Brooke inhales softly. “Yeah…that’ll do it.”
I don’t stop. I don’t let myself think.
And I’m starting to hate that you’re not touching me.
Silence falls around me.
Not from the room, from the women. That quiet, shared pause where everyone knows exactly what I just did.
“Jesus,” Kya mutters.
Mac finally looks up, eyes lighting with approval. “There it is.”
My fingers hover one last second.
Then… I hit send.
The second it goes through, something shifts. Not just in my chest. In the air.
Mac’s phone buzzes first.
Then Kya’s.
Then Emma’s.
A chorus of vibrations fills the space.
“Oh shit,” Blaze’s voice carries from the other room.
“What the fuck—” someone else starts.
A beat passes. Then another.
And then… chaos.
Boots hit the floor hard. Voices rise. Doors open. Men come crashing into the room like someone lit a fire under them.
Logan. Cain. Carter. Dom. Shadow. Joker. Jimmy. Blaze. Landon.
Every single one of them looks…
Focused. Sharp. Ready.
“What the fuck—” Logan starts.
Mac just smiles sweetly. “Hi, baby.”
Cain mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like a curse and a promise at the same time.
“Jesus Christ,” Blaze says, running a hand over his face. “Y’all are gonna be the death of us.”
“Worth it,” Bella shoots back.
“Absolutely,” Kya agrees.
“Prospects!” someone yells. “Watch the kids!”
There’s movement everywhere. Fast. Controlled chaos. And before I can fully process what’s happening…
Cobra is in front of me. His hand comes to my waist, firm, grounding. “Come on.”
I don’t argue. Don’t hesitate.
His hands comes around my back lifting up before I can even think about it, like I weigh nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to carry me through a room full of people.
My arms wrap around his neck automatically, my hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. My breath catches as the world shifts, as the noise fades slightly behind us.
He takes me to his room. To where everything started to change. And as the door closes behind us, as the noise dulls and the space settles around us again. A thought slips in. Quiet. Uninvited. Impossible. What started as a nightmare, might have turned into something else entirely.
Something dangerous. Something consuming. Something that feels an awful lot like…
A fantasy.