Page 65 of Switch

Brooke lets out a laugh. “Sounds to me like you just needed to panic for a second before realizing youwantthis.”

I exhale sharply, rubbing a hand over my face. “Maybe.”

Bri hums. “There’s no maybe about it. Youwantto move in with him, you’re just scared of what happens next.”

I swallow. “And what ifnextis bad?”

Brooke doesn’t hesitate. “Then you deal with it. But what if next is thebestthing that’s ever happened to you?”

My heart clenches, and I let out a long breath.

Bri’s voice turns smug. “Youdorealize he’s going to walk in there any second with boxes, right?”

I groan. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Then you better figure your shit outfast,” Brooke teases.

I let out a nervous laugh. “Thanks, guys.”

Brooke grins. “That’s what we’re here for. Now go pack your shit and move in with your man.”

I hang up, staring at my townhouse for a few seconds longer.

Then I take a deep breath and get to work.

I hear Jax’s truck before I see it, the deep rumble rolling up the street before he parks in my driveway. My stomach twists, nerves tingling with excitement.This is real. This is happening.

The door swings open, and Jax steps inside, carrying a stack of flattened boxes. He sets them down near the couch, dusting off his hands before reaching into his pocket.

“Got you something,” he says, holding out a small box.

I take it, my brows pulling together as I open the lid.

Inside is a simple metal keychain—a tiny house with the wordsHome Sweet Homeengraved on it. Attached to it? A silver key.

I stare at it, my throat tightening. “Jax…”

He shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but the look in his eyes says otherwise. “For the house.”

Forourhouse.

Whatever lingering doubts I had vanish. I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, my feet lifting off the ground. He catches me easily, hands gripping my waist like he was waiting for this.

“Thank you,” I murmur against his skin, voice thick with emotion.

He laughs, squeezing me tight. “Yeah, baby,” he says, his voice rough with something real. “You’re home now.”

TWENTY-THREE

SWITCH

The security officestill smells like fresh paint and new furniture. It’s not much—glass windows up front, an open layout with a couple of desks, and a conference room in the back. Simple. Functional. And most importantly, legit. A real business with our name on it.

I’m sitting at the head of the table, a thick folder of paperwork in front of me, a half-empty coffee beside it. I scrub a hand over my shaved head, trying to shake off the exhaustion that’s been dragging at me for weeks. Running this place isn’t easy. Between balancing the books, dealing with contracts, and making sure we don’t get fucked over by insurance, I’ve barely had time to breathe. And I know Bella’s starting to feel the strain of it too.

The guys file in, each dropping into their usual seats. Mason and Dagger take their spots across from me, both looking sharp and unreadable as always. Tank and Piston slump into their chairs like they’ve been busting their asses all morning—which they have. They’ve been handling the hiring side of things, making sure we’re bringing in the right kind of guys. The ones who can handle this kind of work but also won’t be a liability.

Mason leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Alright, let’s talk about where we’re at.”

---