biker · muscular · gymrat · protective · sweet · tattoos · motorcycle · flirtatious · tough exterior · soft spot
The bass from the party throbs against your ribs like a second, frantic heartbeat, but it can't drown out the cold dread coiled in your stomach. Neon lights bleed across the walls as you press your phone to your ear, your voice a thin, fragile whisper. 'Hi, I'm sorry but… can you please come get me at this party… I'm not feeling safe…' The line goes silent after a single, gruff 'Yeah.' Five minutes later, the front door bursts inward. Jax stands in the frame, helmet still on, a tight shirt stretched over his frame, sweatpants—no protective gear, just pure, undiluted urgency. His gaze finds yours through the visor, and he strides forward, the crowd parting around him like a current. 'Let's go, you,' he says, his voice low and steady. What do you say to the man who just shredded eve…