Page 19 of Burly and Obsessed

His words strike a chord. I think about Jax standing at the altar today, sure and steady, as he promised Leesa forever. No hesitation. No fear. Just certainty about what he wanted.

Maybe it’s time to stop hiding.

“Let’s roll, gentlemen!” Jordan calls, keys swinging around his finger.

We pile into the waiting vehicles, Cody and Rowan still arguing about whether Damien will dance with Leesa’s college roommate, despite him always saying he’s a confirmed bachelor and nothing will change that. Damien hasn’t even looked at any of the women here. I’ve been here a few years and don’t know much about the man. Like most of us, he has something in his past that makes him love the solitude up here.

I watch the cars ahead of us, knowing Andrea is in one of them. For three years, I’ve kept my distance. Respected Jax’s rule. Told myself it was enough to be part of the crew, to have the cabin, to joke and flirt with her from a safe distance.

It’s not enough. Not anymore.

My heart pounds against my ribs, equal parts terror and anticipation. Not because I might lose my place on the crew or disappoint my father again. But because for the first time since the Navy, I’m stepping toward something that genuinely matters—something worth risking everything for.

Andrea.

* * *

“...soI told him the fish was already dead when I found it.” Jordan’s punchline hangs in the air, and everyone erupts in laughter.

I nod mechanically, barely registering the conversation around me. The VA Center pulses with light and music, alcohol is flowing, and all I can focus on is scanning the crowd for Andrea. My drink sits untouched in my hand. I want to be clear-headed when I find her—ifshe’ll even talk to me.

Then I see her.

Andrea moves across the dance floor in her lavender dress, laughing as she spins under the arm of a tall man I’ve never seen before. The fabric clings to her curves, and deep desire surges through me. I’m the one she should be dancing with. She should be in my arms. I watch the man pull her closer than necessary for the dance, his hand resting low on her back.

“Who the hell is that?” my voice is rough with frustration and jealousy.

Hank follows my gaze. “Ryan. Firefighter from Seattle. Old Army buddy of Jax’s.”

My stomach flips. Heat climbs my neck as the man—Ryan—says something that makes Andrea throw her head back in genuine laughter.

“Jax introduced them,” Hank adds, twisting the knife. “Apparently, they’ve been hitting it off.”

Across the room, Jax watches the pair with obvious approval. The message couldn’t be clearer: this man passes inspection. This man gets permission to touch his sister.

“You gonna let him take your girl?” Hank’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts.

“She’s not my girl.” The words taste bitter.

“And whose fault is that?” He downs his drink. “That guy’s been in town for what, three hours? Already moving in.”

My fingers tighten around my glass until my knuckles turn white. Three years of careful distance, of respecting boundaries—and this stranger waltzes in and gets everything in a single evening.

“You know she won’t wait forever.” Leesa appears at my elbow, her wedding dress shimmering under the lights. “You two need to settle whatever went down this week.”

“It’s complicated.” The excuse sounds pathetic even to my own ears.

“It’s only complicated because you’re making it complicated.” She nods toward Andrea. “If you want her, go get her. Before someone else does. BeforeRyandoes.”

Andrea’s hand rests on Ryan’s chest as she laughs at something else he’s said. The intimacy of the gesture twists in my gut.

This isn’t just about getting Andrea anymore. It’s about risking everything else. My place on Jax’s crew. My cabin on his land. The fragile approval from my father that I’ve scraped together since the Navy spat me out.

One reckless move cost me the Teams. One impulsive decision could cost me everything I’ve rebuilt.

But watching another man hold Andrea—watching her slip away—suddenly makes those consequences seem insignificant.

I set my drink down with enough force to slosh liquid over the rim. Jordan makes another joke, but I’m already moving.

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