Page 28 of Switch

“Alittle?” Rev snorts. “You had a hole the size of a dinner plate in that shirt.”

The women roll their eyes, shaking their heads in unison like they’ve heard these stories a hundred times before.

“You’d think they’d get tired of teasing each other,” Sophie mutters, her tone dripping with exasperated affection.

“They won’t,” Jenny replies, smiling as she sips her drink.

“Ever,” Chloe adds with a sigh, but there’s a small smile tugging at her lips too.

As I sit back, observing the easy camaraderie, I can’t help but notice something deeper beneath the noise. It’s not just that they tease and laugh—it’s the way they lean into each other, the way their banter feels like a language only they share. There’s a bond here, something unshakable.

It’s not just the men. The women have it too. They have different personalities and different lives, but there’s a sisterhood among them that you can feel. They glance at each other like they don’t need words to communicate, and when oneof the kids starts to fuss, they’re all up in an instant, helping without hesitation.

This isn’t just a group of people—it’s a family. Best friends turned into something deeper.

I glance around the table, watching Jax laugh at something Mason says, and for the first time, I really see the weight of it. These people are each other’s everything.

It hits me like a wave, and suddenly, I’m thinking about my own family. About my sisters.

We’ve always been close—close in the way you only get when you’ve been through hell together. When our parents died, I was just seventeen. Brianna was only fourteen, and Brooke, at twenty, suddenly became the one holding it all together.

She had no clue how to take care of us. Hell, she was barely an adult herself. But she didn’t let us see her struggle. She made sure we had what we needed. Thank God for our parents’ life insurance. It paid off the house and gave us enough to live on, enough to get through school without falling apart.

I miss my mom and dad every day. Some days it’s a sharp, cutting pain, other days, it’s quieter, a dull ache in the background. But if losing them taught me anything, it’s that family isn’t just about blood—it’s about the people who show up for you, who fight for you, who stick around when things get hard.

That’s what this is. That’s what these people have.

A motorcycle club might seem like chaos to outsiders. I thought that too. But sitting here now, I see it’s not about the noise or the leather or the rough edges. At its core, it’s about loyalty, love, and showing up for each other.

It’s about family.

And as I sit back in my chair, letting the warmth of the evening sink in, I feel honored to have been invited into this world. Even if it’s just for tonight, I get it now. And I respect it.

The buzz of conversation at the table hums around me, but it’s the kind of background noise that feels comforting. The guys are still teasing each other, loud and animated, while the women exchange knowing looks and occasional sighs.

I’m caught up in it all when Jax leans in closer, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “You good?”

I glance at him, his brow furrowed just slightly like he’s genuinely worried. It’s such a small gesture, but it hits me harder than I expected.

I nod, smiling softly. “More than okay.”

His lips twitch into that small, almost-smile I’ve come to recognize, and he leans back, his hand brushing against mine under the table.

Once everyone finishes eating, the women start gathering up plates and glasses, shooing the men away when they offer to help. “We’ve got this,” Carlie says, rolling her eyes at Mason. “Go talk about motorcycles or whatever it is you do.”

I follow the group inside, where the kitchen is surprisingly tidy, most of the cleaning already done while they cooked. There’s not much left to do but put the food away, so I start packing up the leftovers, glad to have something to keep my hands busy.

Jenny, who’s been the loudest of the group all evening, bumps me lightly with her hip as I reach for a container. “So, what’s the deal with you and Jax?”

I blink, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Um, we just started seeing each other a couple of weeks ago. I guess we’re… seeing how things go?”

Jenny grins, her eyes sharp. “He’s never brought a girl to the club. Or to Mason’s house. That means something.Youmean something to him.”

I feel my cheeks warm, but before I can respond, she adds, “He’s literally one of the sweetest guys I know in the club, but—” she pauses, her tone softening just slightly— “and I say this as nicely as I can because you seem cool as hell—don’t hurt him.”

Her words hit like a challenge, and for a moment, I bristle at the implication. But then I see the sincerity in her expression, the protective undertone, and I understand. If I were in her position, I’d say the same thing.

“Jesus, Jenny, chill out,” Carlie grumbles from across the kitchen.

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