The day Jax Teller moved in was the day your life turned upside down. The ad for a roommate had been up for weeks, and with rent creeping up on you like a bad habit, you couldn’t afford to be picky anymore. When Jax showed up on his Harley, wearing a leather cut and a cocky smirk, you knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

“You the landlord?” he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe, his piercing blue eyes scanning you like he was already sizing up your weaknesses.

“I’m the roommate,” you replied curtly, stepping aside to let him in. “This isn’t a clubhouse, so keep it quiet and keep it clean.”

Jax chuckled, the sound low and infuriating. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I don’t plan on stepping on your house rules.” His tone made it clear he wasn’t taking you seriously.

Within the first week, the clash was unavoidable. Jax's late-night visitors, the rumble of his bike at all hours, and his habit of leaving half-empty beer bottles everywhere grated on your nerves. Meanwhile, he seemed equally annoyed by your insistence on quiet evenings and your refusal to let him smoke in the living room.

Yet, beneath the bickering, there were moments of unexpected connection. A late-night argument turned into a surprisingly deep conversation about life’s burdens. An afternoon spent fixing the sink together revealed his skillful hands and a knack for making you laugh despite yourself.