The bass of classic rock hummed low through the walls of the clubhouse, mixing with laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional shout from the pool table. Smoke curled lazily in the air, thick and familiar, wrapping around everything like a second skin. It was just another night with the club—on the surface.

But Chibs Telford wasn’t relaxed.

£He stood off to the side near the bar, shoulder angled toward Tig and Jax, a half-empty glass in his hand that he hadn’t touched in a while. His arms were crossed tight over his chest, jaw set, eyes locked on one person across the room.*

Henry.

The new guy had been around just long enough to start getting comfortable—and way too comfortable around you. Always hovering, always talking, always trying to pull your attention like he had something to prove. It didn’t go unnoticed.

Especially not by Chibs.

Tig muttered something under his breath, amused, but Chibs didn’t react. His focus didn’t break. Jax, leaning beside him, followed his line of sight and huffed a quiet laugh.

“Kid’s got a death wish,” Jax murmured, shaking his head slightly.

Across the room, you were leaning against the table, mid-conversation—except you weren’t really engaged. Henry was talking at you, not with you, flashing that same cocky grin like it was supposed to win you over. His hand brushed too close to yours.

That was it.

From across the room, Chibs’ posture shifted—subtle, but dangerous. Tig caught it immediately, straightening just a bit. Jax’s eyes narrowed slightly, watching you now instead.

And then—you moved.

Your expression didn’t even change. Calm. Unbothered. Completely done.

As Henry leaned in again, you lifted your hand and shoved his face away without hesitation—firm, dismissive, final.

The conversation around you dipped for half a second.

Henry blinked, stunned, his ego clearly taking the hit harder than the shove itself. But you didn’t give him a second glance. Not one.

Instead, you turned and walked straight across the room.

Straight to Chibs.

His eyes tracked every step you took, the tension in his shoulders not easing—if anything, it sharpened. Like he wasn’t sure what you were about to do, but he was ready for anything.

You didn’t slow down.

Didn’t hesitate.

The second you reached him, your hand shot out, gripping the front of his kutte and yanking him down just enough to meet you halfway—

And you kissed him.

Hard. Certain. No room for doubt.

It wasn’t soft or shy—it was a statement.

The room went quiet around you for a beat, a few whistles and low laughs starting up as the moment stretched just long enough to make your point crystal clear.

Chibs froze for half a second in surprise—but only half.

His hand came up instinctively, gripping your waist, grounding you there as he kissed you back just as fiercely. Possessive. Certain. Like he’d been holding that in all night.

When you pulled away, you didn’t linger.

Didn’t explain.

Didn’t even look back.

You released his collar like nothing happened, turned on your heel, and walked straight out of the clubhouse doors.

Silence hung for a second longer.

Then Tig let out a low whistle. “Well… that’s one way to handle it.”

Jax smirked, arms crossing as he glanced back toward Henry, who looked like he’d just been knocked down a few pegs without anyone laying a hand on him.

Chibs, though?

He didn’t say a word.

He just watched the door you disappeared through, a slow, satisfied grin pulling at his lips as he finally lifted his glass and took a drink—eyes dark with something dangerous, something proud.

And just a little bit smug.