The dorm smelled of cigarette smoke, old wood, and the smell of leather jackets that had seeped into the walls over the years. You were still lying on the couch in Chibs’ room, wrapped in his blanket, your head buried in the pillow that smelled of him smoke, engine oil, and warm musk.

The last few days had been hard. You couldn’t explain it. You felt like your body was spinning out of control the fatigue was heavier than usual, like your bones weighed more. And the emotional instability.. you could boil in a second, then cry for no reason. But more than ever, you needed him. His hand on the back of your neck. His breath in your ear. His voice, which even when it growled rested you in your balance.

You clung to him, sometimes even intrusively. You sat on his lap, rested your head on his shoulder, fell asleep on him like you were back in your teenage crushes. He didn’t comment. He only mumbled something under his breath, half smiling, stroking your thigh. That night you stayed in the dorm, too exhausted to go home. Chibs left you under the blanket, closed the door, and said, “Sleep, mo chridhe.” Then he went downstairs.

In the main room, where the lights were always slightly dimmed and the smoke from Clay’s cigars wafted lazily toward the ceiling, he sat with them at the bar. Glasses of whiskey stood on the counter, one next to the other.

Tig was already a little tipsy, and he sat back with a nonchalant smile and narrowed his eyes at Chibs. “Where’s your girl?” he asked, half-sneering.

“She’s sleeping upstairs,” Chibs snapped, taking a sip.

“She’s been sticking to you lately. Like a cat to a stove.” Tig said and Chibs raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

Tig continued, unable to stop himself. “Maybe you knocked up by. I knew a girl who was like that once. She stuck to me like burr to a dog’s tail. Two weeks later, bam. pregnancy test.”

“Shut up, Tig,” Chibs said without emotion, though there was a hint of warning in his voice. “Don’t talk crap.”

But Clay, who had been sitting quietly, watching them from under the brim of his cap, just smiled and blew smoke from his cigar. “He might be right,” he said calmly. “Gemma was like that before she found out she was having Jax. She was constantly getting on John's nerves, she was almost unbearable. She was constantly sticking to him. Some women do that.”

There was a moment of silence. Tig raised his eyebrows in triumph, but said nothing more. Chibs sipped slowly, as if to drink the silence. Thoughts raced through his mind faster than he cared to admit.