Tara raked her fingers through her thick, dark hair and twisted it into a loose bun at the top of her head, then studied her reflection in the mirror from all angles. Did her cheeks look too angled? Was her chin too pointy? What about her collar bones? Too pronounced? She threw her hands up in utter frustration, letting her hair unravel and fall back down to her shoulders. Down. She should definitely wear it down. She pulled a couple of the most unruly pieces back into place, but otherwise left it messy. It made her feel rebellious. Her hair done, she focused on her makeup. Was she wearing too much eyeliner? Did it make her eyes look too slanty? She thought about wiping it off and starting over, but she was running out of time.
She smoothed her black tank top down over her fluttering belly, letting it rest just above her hips, so that the slightest bit of skin was showing. She'd agonized for hours over whether to wear a skirt or jeans, finally deciding on the ripped-up stonewashed jeans she'd bought with the gift card to the mall she got for Christmas.
"Stop it," she muttered, staring her reflection down. "Stop freaking out." It was no use. She looked at the clock. 7:02. He was late. Just two minutes late, but still late. Maybe he'd changed his mind. She'd nearly changed hers at least a dozen times since agreeing to their surely ill-fated date, but something inside her forced her to go through with it. Maybe it was the thrill of unknown.
She still wasn't sure why he even asked her to dinner. They were as different as two teenagers could be. She was a straight A student; a quiet girl with a troubled home life and no social life to speak of. He was the bad boy biker all the girls were obsessed with. His father was a founding member of the Sons of Anarchy, the motorcycle club that more or less served as the unofficial government in Charming. He'd been brought up in the life. She'd been brought up to stay away from it. But he was cute and charismatic, and his smile made her melt. She knew it probably wouldn't work between them. They'd run out of things to talk about before they even finished their appetizer, and then they'd spend the next several weeks avoiding one another in the halls at school until things weren't awkward anymore. Or worse, he'd go back to pretending she was invisible. Still, she reminded herself, something had moved him to ask her out. Maybe it was the same something that moved her to say yes.
A lump formed in her throat as the sound of a motorcycle thundering down the street shattered the silence in her house. Part of her worried it might pass right on by. It didn't. The roar reached a deafening level, so she knew it was right outside her door. And then it ceased to exist altogether.
"Shit," she hissed as she raced down the hall, hoping to beat her father to the front door.
"Who's here?" he grumbled from the living room. The springs in his chair squeaked as he transitioned from reclining to sitting upright, then began to stand.
"Just a friend, Dad," Tara answered frantically, praying he would decide he didn't care enough to investigate. He might not be all too concerned with her well being as a general rule, but he had a vicious grudge against the Sons, and if he saw her "friend," it would be game over. "I'll be back by 10." She grabbed her purse and flung open the door, hoping to meet him on the sidewalk, but he was already on the front porch. She crashed right into him, a wall of leather and danger. He caught her in his strong arms, and her cheeks turned crimson as he beamed down at her, his boyish grin showing no hint of the violent world he'd been raised in.
"Hello, Tara," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
In his presence, she couldn't do anything other than smile. "Hey, Opie."
The entire ride to the restaurant, she wondered why she even bothered doing her hair. What the helmet didn't crush, the wind had whipped into a frenzy of tangles and knots as she held onto Opie as tightly as she could. She continued clinging to him for dear life after he'd parked and put the kickstand down. She was quite sure he'd turned the engine off, but she could still feel it rattling her brain.
"First time on a motorcycle?" he asked as he helped her down.
"No," she lied, trying to remove the helmet as gracefully as possible. It was useless. She could feel her hair sticking up in every direction, much like she'd just stuck a fork in an electrical outlet. Opie bit back a smile.
"I look ridiculous, don't I?" she lamented.
"No," he said unconvincingly as he tried to help her piece her hair back into place. "Just a little windblown." Tara realized that Opie was probably used to seeing his dates in such a disheveled state- motorcycles didn't take it easy on anyone, she imagined.
"Right," she quipped. "Well, I need to make a quick trip to the ladies' room. I'll come find you, okay?"
"Sure," he0 agreed, and he squeezed her hand as they parted ways. Butterflies surged in Tara's stomach. This was already going better than her last date. Out of pity, she'd accepted an invitation to the movies from a guy in her Art History class. She was hoping he'd take her to the new Brad Pitt movie making the rounds, but instead they wound up at a one screen movie theater on the outskirts of town that was playing some foreign film with subtitles. About halfway through, she faked a stomach ache and called her dad to come get her.
She giggled when she caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror at the burger joint she and Opie had decided on together. She retrieved the small brush she kept in her purse and began raking it through her hair, trying to tame it. When she was finished, she reapplied her lipstick, smoothed out the creases in her jeans, and headed out to meet her date.
She found him sitting alone in a small corner booth, picking ice cubes out of his Coca-Cola. She smiled, but he didn't see her. He was too focused on the table in front of him. His lips were moving ever so slightly, as if he was talking to himself. She watched his shoulders rise and fall as he took deep, deliberate breaths. Was he nervous, too? The thought made her relax a bit.
"Hey," she said quietly as she slid into the booth across from him. He looked up, his worry dissolving into a welcoming grin.
"Hey. All set?"
Tara patted her hair and pouted. "I suppose. I'm still a mess, but it's better than it was."
"Ah," Opie disagreed, "you look beautiful." The words seemed to escape his lips on accident, and they both turned bright red. Tara was thankful for the interruption of the waitress.
"You kids ready to order?" she asked as she tapped on her ordering pad with her pen. They each ordered the special- a double cheeseburger with all the fixings and a side of curly fries. Opie seemed impressed that Tara thought she could eat that much. What he didn't know was that she was planning on getting dessert, too.
"So," Opie said as soon as they were alone again, "tell me about Tara Knowles."
Tara smiled nervously. She hated talking about herself. Her home life was nothing to brag about. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything." Opie smiled, and he seemed genuine. Although they'd been spending quite a bit of time together the past few weeks, they really didn't know anything about one another. She was his geometry tutor, and all of their conversations were about angles and lines.
"Well, I live with my dad. My mom died when I was eight, and I don't have any brothers or sisters."
"Sorry about your mom," Opie said, looking uncomfortable. "I live with my pop also. Mom split when I was little, and I'm an only child. So it's just the two of us. Are you and your dad close?"
Tara shook her head. "Not really. You?"
He chuckled. "Oh yeah. Too close, maybe."
"That's not a bad thing," she argued. "At least you're not alone."
"Yeah, I've got Dad and then the club, of course. We're kind of like a big family, I guess. I just feel like my life isn't my own sometimes, you know? Guess I kind of resent that."
"I can see that," Tara said. "But take it from a girl who's more or less on her own- there's nothing wrong with having a lot of people who care about you."
"I guess," he sighed. Then he raised an eyebrow. "On your own, huh? What about friends, boyfriends…?"
"None to speak of, really," she said, embarrassed.
"I find that hard to believe." Their nervous chatter was interrupted by the delivery of their food. For a few minutes, they ate in silence. But something had been nagging at Tara all day, and she wanted to bring it up before she lost the nerve.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course," Opie mumbled, his mouth half full of food.
"Why did you ask me out?" Opie set down his burger and leaned back in his seat. He wiped his mouth with his hands, then wiped his hands on his jeans. Tara chewed self-consciously on a fry as he looked her up and down. She could feel her ears getting warm.
"Your eyes," he finally said. "I knew there was more behind those green eyes of yours than just a math tutor." He winked at her, and she smiled. "But why did you say yes? That's the real question."
Tara bit her lip as she tried to decide how to respond without sounding like a total idiot. "Your smile. With a smile like that, I knew you couldn't be as dangerous as people make you out to be." Opie grinned. He looked like he wanted to say something, but got distracted by something. He pulled his pager off his belt buckle and scowled at the screen.
"Everything alright?" Tara asked.
He looked up at her and forced a smile. "Y…yeah. Everything's fine. Just…can you excuse me a minute? I need to go make a call."
"Of course," she said. He hurried away from the table and out the front door of the restaurant. She couldn't help but be reminded of the time she ditched Steve from Art History at the movies. Was Opie ditching her? Probably. He'd been curious about the quiet girl with the intense green eyes, and now he was over it. Tara knew better than to get her hopes up, she'd never had much luck with guys. Opie was just so good at pretending her genuinely liked her. She prepared herself for him to end their date when he returned, and she could see by the look in his eyes when he walked back through the door that he was going to do exactly that.
He took a deep breath as he sat back down across from her. "So, something's come up," he said apologetically. She felt disappointed tears begin to well up. "Do you mind if we cut tonight short?"
"No," she said, trying to keep her voice from wavering. "Not at all. I've gotta be getting home anyway."
Opie's brow furrowed. "Oh. Okay. Well let me pay the bill and then I'll take you…"
"You don't have to take me home," Tara interrupted. "I'll just call my dad and have him come pick me up." She stood, too quickly, and knocked over her nearly empty glass of soda. Ice clattered across the table. Opie pretended not to notice. "Thank you for dinner," she said politely, then bolted for the door, hoping to beat out the tears.
"Tara," he called after her, but she didn't turn around. Just as she reached the door, she felt his hand around her wrist. "Tara," he pleaded, pulling her close. "I'm really sorry about this, it's just…"
She blinked back tears and then cleared her throat. "It's fine," she lied. "You just go do what you have to do, and I'll…"
"Come with me," he interrupted her. She frowned, confused. "I just have to go take care of something, but it shouldn't take very long. We'll have time to hang out for at least a little while before I have to have you home. Whaddya say?"
She was at a loss. She was so sure Opie was trying to get away from her, but now she didn't know what to think. "You want me to come with you?" she asked.
He grinned, and she felt butterflies again. "I do."
"Alright," she conceded. "Let's go."
When they reached Opie's bike, Tara eyed her helmet with disdain.
"Here," he chuckled. "Let me help you." He gently pulled her hair away from her face and up off the back of her neck, leaving goosebumps on her skin. He twisted her hair loosely and piled it on top of her head, then used the helmet to secure it in place. He fastened the strap under her chin and smiled. "That should help a little."
"Thanks," she said, still trying to shake off the goosebumps. He winked at her and then climbed onto his bike. She followed with his assistance. She wrapped her arms around his waist, still uncomfortable with the close proximity riding a motorcycle with someone required. He placed his hands over hers and pulled her closer.
"I won't bite unless you want me to," he teased.
She held on tight as he sped away from the restaurant. After about five minutes, they reached a building Tara had only ever seen from afar. The SAMCRO clubhouse. Her heart began to race. Her father would kill her if he knew where she was. The gate was slightly ajar, and Opie zipped through the opening with ease. The building was dark, and showed no signs of life. Somehow, that scared Tara more than when it was crawling with criminals. Opie parked his bike near the fence, then helped Tara down. She took off her helmet and shook her hair out, while he slicked his back into place.
"Do you wanna stay here, or…?" Tara shook her head. Opie smiled and took her hand in his. "Jax!" he called out into the darkness, his voice bouncing off the walls of the clubhouse. "Jax! Where are you?" There was a sharp hiss from somewhere nearby. Opie pulled Tara toward what appeared to be a collection of picnic tables. As they drew closer, two shapes came into view.
"Keep it down, asshole," the dark figure hissed. "Did you bring your key?"
"Yeah, I got it," Opie grumbled as headed up to the clubhouse. Tara's heart was in her throat as she followed Opie inside. "Stay here," he said apologetically. Tara could sense the two strangers behind her. One of them, the one Opie called Jax, seemed to be hurt. The other, a girl, seemed horribly inconvenienced by whatever was going on. Opie decided against turning on the overhead lights, and instead began switching on small lamps, probably as to not draw too much attention. The clubhouse looked more like an abandoned bar than an epicenter of criminal activity. It wasn't so bad. Tara kept her gaze fixed on Opie as Jax and the girl bickered back and forth.
"I'm so sorry about this," Opie whispered when he returned. Tara felt instantly better with him back at her side. Even in such a dangerous place, he made her feel safe.
"Were you on a date?" Jax asked incredulously. "I'm sorry, bro." For the first time, Tara turned to face Opie's crude friend and his seemingly high maintenance date.
"Jax, this is Tara Knowles," Opie introduced them reluctantly. "Tara, this is Jax Teller." Teller. The boy standing in front of her was a stranger, but she knew the name well. Everyone in Charming knew who the Tellers were. They were practically royalty. Add to that the fact that Jax Teller was easily the most gorgeous human being she'd ever seen in real life, and Tara was beyond intimidated. Jax was not. His intense, crystal blue eyes locked onto hers, and he smiled so brilliantly that it made her knees weak. For the briefest of moments, she thought she felt some sort of connection, but then his smile turned into a smirk, and he looked through her rather than at her.
"Niiiice, Ope," he mused, then hobbled his way over to a chair in the brightest lit part of the room.
"How bad's the bike?" Opie asked as he kneeled beside Jax.
"You don't wanna know, man," Jax chuckled. He leaned back in his seat as Opie helped him pull up his pant leg.
"What happened?" Tara asked as she made her way to Opie's side.
"He wiped out on his bike. Charla, you're lucky you didn't get hurt. You sure you're okay?" Opie looked up at Jax's date, who was leaning against the pool table, twirling her gum around her finger.
"I'm fine," she whined. "But I won't be if I don't get home before curfew."
"She wasn't even on the bike when I wiped out," Jax explained. "Good thing, I guess, since she doesn't like to wear a helmet. It would be a shame if that pretty little brain of hers got any more scrambled than it already is." The insult went right over Charla's head, but Tara was appalled. How could he speak so disrespectfully about someone he was dating? And yet, a part of her was happy that he didn't seem to be too into the chesty blonde in the short skirt and halter top. She wondered why that was.
"Oh, shit, man," Opie groaned as he got Jax's jeans up over his knee. "This looks really bad. I should call your parents."
"Ope, no!" Jax yelled. "My dad will kill me, he just gave me back the keys to my bike. Just get me some bandages out of the medicine cabinet and help me wrap it up."
"I'm pretty sure you need a doctor," Opie argued.
"Can I take a look?" Tara asked.
"Why?" Jax sneered. "You a doctor?"
"Not yet," Tara said. "But I hope to be some day. I'm taking a couple courses down at the community college this semester."
"Impressive," Opie grinned. He squeezed Tara's hand as she took over the role of under-qualified caregiver.
"And she's smart, too, eh?" Jax winked at Opie, and Tara tried to muster up the appropriate amount of disdain. But despite the fact that Jax Teller was probably the biggest male chauvinist she'd ever met, she felt drawn to him somehow.
"Jesus Christ," she gasped when she saw the shredded skin running from Jax's ankle up past his knee. "Opie's right, you need a doctor."
"Good thing you're here then, huh?" Jax said. Tara glared up at him, but behind his smug words were pleading, fearful eyes. "My parents will kill me if they find out about this. Do a guy a solid?"
Tara sighed and turned to Opie. "I'm going to have to clean out the wound. Can you help him take off his pants and get him up on the pool table?"
"Doc, if you want to see me naked, just ask," Jax joked.
"Jax," Opie scolded. "You want her help, right? Quit being a dick."
"You're right," Jax said as Opie helped him up. Tara diverted her eyes when Jax unbuckled his belt. She grabbed a blanket from the back of a worn looking leather recliner and tossed it to Opie.
"He can cover up with that," she suggested. Opie smiled, pleased that Tara wasn't interested in ogling Jax's half naked body. "You said something about a medicine cabinet?" Opie nodded. "See if you can find any sort of antiseptic wash, gauze, tweezers, bandages. I'll also need some clean towels and a bowl of warm water."
"Yes, ma'am," Opie said, and then disappeared down a dark hall. Tara grabbed a chair with wheels on it and scooted to Jax's side. She was careful not to make eye contact with him. He was…distracting. And she needed to stay focused.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" she asked.
"My elbows are a little scraped up, but nothing like this." She stood to examine his arms, which were every bit as sexy as the rest of him.
"These aren't too bad," she agreed. We'll take care of your leg first and then…" she was caught off guard when Jax took her hand in his. Electricity soared through her, making her shiver. Jax scowled, confused. Did he feel it, too? He definitely seemed a bit disheveled all of a sudden, and it took him a minute to regain his composure.
"Thank you for doing this, Tara," he said sincerely. His gaze penetrated straight through to her soul, and she couldn't look away. The sound of Opie's footsteps coming down the hall snapped her out of her trance. She yanked her hand away.
"Don't thank me yet," she warned. "Because if you start bleeding too much, or the cuts are too deep, I can't help you. You'll have to go to the hospital. I'm not even a PRE- premed student, and I really shouldn't be doing this."
"I have faith in you," Jax assured her.
"Me too," Opie concurred as he unloaded supplies onto the table. "We've got peroxide, alcohol, gauze, tape, tweezers, towels. I just need to grab a bowl of warm water, and you'll be all set."
"Thank you," Tara said with a smile as Opie made his way behind the bar.
"Wanna grab me a bottle of Jack Daniels while you're back there?" Jax called after him. "Pain reliever," he explained to Tara, and smiled. Another jolt of electricity surged through her, and she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. If she was going to be able to help him, she had to focus on his injury and nothing else. She couldn't allow herself to think about how handsome he was, or how charming, or how intimidating. Opie returned with a bowl of warm water and gently rubbed Tara's back as they surveyed the inventory together.
"This good?" he asked. Tara nodded. She took a deep breath and slid a clean towel under Jax's leg.
"Do you want to do this sitting up or lying down?" she asked. Jax chuckled, and she realized how easily her comment could be taken out of context.
"Jax," Opie sighed, and shook his head.
"Hey, I hate to interrupt this episode of 'ER,' but will somebody please call me a cab?" Jax's date, who seemed oddly detached from her boyfriend's plight, crossed the room impatiently and glared at Jax.
"Ope," Jax sighed, without so much as looking in Charla's direction. "Do you mind?"
Opie turned to Tara. "You gonna be alright if I run her home real quick?"
Alone with Jax Teller? Absolutely not. "Sure," she lied.
"I'll take good care of her, bro," Jax chided him.
Opie rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's what I'm worried about."
"You doing alright?" Jax asked, breaking the long silence that had permeated the room. He reeked of whiskey, which Tara had finally given in and gotten for him from behind the bar.
She looked up at him. "I'm alright. Are you alright?" She'd been picking bits of gravel out of his leg for nearly twenty minutes, and he'd yet to scream out in pain.
He gave her a thumbs up and a cheeky grin. "How come I've never seen you around before, Tara?"
"Maybe you have and you just don't remember," she said, returning to the task of digging dirt out of his wound.
"No," he disagreed. "I would definitely remember you."
Tara blushed. "Why don't you go to the high school?"
"I did," Jax chuckled. "For about two weeks." By the tone in his voice, she could tell there was a story there. "Adult ed is more my style. They're a little more…lenient."
"Is that where you met Charla?" The words tumbled out before Tara could stop them. She wasn't sure why she was so curious about Jax's personal life. They were complete strangers. "I'm sorry, that's none of my business." Jax started to move, and she quickly pulled the tweezers away from his skin. "Need a break?" She made the mistake of looking up at Jax, and found him gazing down at her, his glossy eyes searching her face for something, though she wasn't sure what.
"You're really pretty," he mumbled before collapsing back onto the table.
"Thank you," Tara said, trying not to take it to heart. He was drunk, after all. "I'm just about done here. I just need to wash out your wound once more and then we'll get it wrapped up. Think you can hang in for a few more minutes?"
"You got it, doc." Jax slurred his words as he watched her work. Tara pressed her lips together tightly as she splashed peroxide onto Jax's leg. She hated to cause him anymore pain, but it had to be done. "Son of a bitch!" he hissed, and then took another swig of Jack Daniels.
"Sorry," Tara whispered as she blew gently on his skin to dry it. She then took the roll of gauze and carefully wrapped it around Jax's leg until his entire wound was covered, using more tape than she probably needed to secure it in place. "All set," she announced, and offered Jax her hand to help him up. As soon as his skin touched hers, electricity surged through her again. It took her breath away.
"You're gonna make an amazing doctor," he said. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Tara replied, trying to keep her nerves in check as she forced a smile. Jax used his thumb to wipe a strand of hair from her cheek, and then allowed his hand to linger there. Tara trembled under his touch. He leaned in close, and she couldn't back away. She was caught in his web, and there was no escaping. He brushed his lips gently against hers.
"You're so pretty," he whispered, and the smell of whiskey on his breath reminded her that she couldn't take him seriously. But he didn't look drunk anymore. His eyes were clear, focused.
"Jax, I…" He sensed her hesitation and pulled away, but just slightly. She couldn't break free from his intense gaze, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. He pressed his hands to the sides of her face, and just when she thought he might kiss her again, they were interrupted by the roar of a motorcycle pulling into the parking lot. Jax's hands fell to his side, and Tara backed away quickly, intense guilt burning in her throat.
Opie walked through the door a completely different person than when he'd left. Only it wasn't him that had changed. It was Tara's feelings for him. That connection she thought she felt earlier- gone. The butterflies- dead. He was no longer a prospective boyfriend, he was just Opie. And the expectant look on his face told her that he had no idea.
"The patient still alive?" he teased.
"She's managed not to kill me yet," Jax shot back. "Nah, she did great, man. She's a good girl." Jax's eyes lingered on Tara for too long, and Opie definitely noticed. He wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders.
"Yeah, she is." He grinned down at Tara. "Is he all set?"
"Yep," she said, in a rush to get out of the uncomfortable situation she found herself in. "He just needs to keep it clean and dry for the next couple of days, and he'll probably need help changing the bandages. But if it starts bleeding too much or starts to get infected, you have to make sure he sees a real doctor."
"You got it," Opie promised. He helped Jax down from the table and over to a reclining chair. "I'm gonna take Tara home, and I'll come back with Pop's pickup to get you and the bike."
"Thanks, man," Jax groaned as he settled into the plush chair and closed his eyes. "And Tara…" She turned toward him, afraid of what he might say. "You're the best, babe." He winked at her, and she pretended not to care. Instead, she looked up at Opie and smiled.
"Let's get out of here," she said. But it was too late. The damage was already done. Jax Teller had his hooks in her, and he would never let her go.
It was nearly midnight by the time Opie got Tara home. If she had a normal father, he'd be standing at the door waiting for her, ready to ground her for life. But her father was likely passed out drunk in the living room, oblivious to the world.
"I'm so sorry about tonight," Opie said as he took Tara's hands in his. "This is not how I wanted our first date to go. Please tell me you'll let me make it up to you."
She shook her head and smiled. "Don't be silly. There's nothing to make up." It was true. If anyone should feel bad, it was her. She'd started the night with a crush on Opie, and ended it infatuated with his best friend.
Opie frowned, not sure how to take her comment. "Can I call you this weekend?"
"Sure." She stiffened as he moved in close. She could still taste Jax Teller on her lips. The consummate gentleman, Opie went for her cheek instead.
"Good night, Tara," he said sweetly.
"Good night, Opie," she said, apologizing silently as she walked up the sidewalk to her front porch.
She'd been avoiding Opie's calls all weekend. Her head was too full of Jax Teller to think of anything else, and she had to find a way to let Opie down gently. How could she tell him that butterflies weren't good enough anymore, she needed fireworks? That goosebumps and pecks on the cheek weren't sufficient, she needed electricity and stolen kisses? How could she let Opie go without telling him the reason why? And what was the reason? Because she was in love with his best friend? How ridiculous was that? She didn't even know Jax, and what she did know about him wasn't good. If Opie was a "bad boy," Jax made him look like a boy scout. He was danger personified. And he probably didn't even remember Tara's name. She really needed to just forget about him. Maybe she could. She'd go back to school Monday morning, back to being plain old Tara Knowles, and maybe she'd start feeling differently about Opie again. She just needed things to get back to normal.
As she laid in her bed staring at the ceiling, the phone rang again. She had to talk to him. Otherwise the next day at school would be ridiculously awkward. She took a deep breath and reached for the phone.
"Hello?"
"Hey…Tara?" It wasn't Opie.
"Who is this?"
"It's Jax…Jax Teller." Her heart began to race.
"Jax? How did you get my number?"
"Opie gave it to me. I hope that's okay."
"Yeah…yeah, it is, I'm just surprised, that's all."
Jax laughed at himself. "I told him I needed to ask you a question about my leg."
"Do you?" Of course he did. Why else would he be calling her?
"Not really. I just, uh…I wanted to apologize for the other night. That wasn't me, you know. I was in pain, embarrassed, and piss drunk by the end of the night, if you want to know the truth."
"It's okay, Jax."
"No, it's not. I might be an asshole, but I'm not the kind of asshole who makes a move on his buddy's girl."
"I'm not Opie's girl," Tara corrected him, a little too forcefully and a little too quickly. "We're just…friends."
Jax laughed. "Does Opie know that?" A pang of guilt twisted in Tara's stomach. "Anyway, I just wanted to say sorry, and to thank you again for helping me out."
"Well, you're welcome." Maybe he wasn't such a jerk after all. "How is the leg, anyway? Are you taking care of it?"
"It still hurts like a motherfucker, but it's getting better."
"That's good." An awkward silence settled between them, and Tara was reminded that they truly were complete strangers.
"Hey," he said, and she prepared herself for him to say goodbye. "What are you doing right now?"
"What, me?" She was caught off guard.
"Yeah, you," he chuckled. "Are you busy? Let me treat you to ice cream or something, my way of saying thank you."
"Right now?"
"Why not?" Tara could think of a million reasons why not, number one being Opie. She'd been ignoring him all weekend, she couldn't go out with his best friend. But she was not about to deny Jax Teller anything.
Tara had never gotten ready so quickly in her life. She went from sweatpants and a ponytail to cutoff jean shorts and a messy bun in less than ten minutes. She paced in front of her bedroom window, listening for the sound of Jax's motorcycle. She was caught off guard when a sleek black sedan pulled up outside her house instead, and then it dawned on her. Jax hadn't just mangled his leg, he'd mangled his bike, too. She met him at the front door, and her father was none the wiser.
"Hey," he said, his hands behind his back and a mischievous smile on his face.
Tara bit her lip to keep it from quivering. "Hey."
"I shouldn't be here," he whispered, his eyes glistening with defiance.
"Probably not," she agreed. Jax produced a paper sack from behind his back and grinned.
"What's that?"
"Ice cream." Tara was confused. She thought they were going out somewhere. That was bad enough. But letting Jax Teller into her house? "Can I come in?" he asked.
Against her better judgment, Tara nodded and opened the door. "This way." Her dad was in the living room, alternately dozing and watching football. Tara quietly led Jax down the hall to her bedroom, which was thankfully spotless. Once they were inside, she closed the door behind her and locked it, then turned the radio on to drown out the sound of their voices.
Jax hobbled over to Tara's desk chair and sat down like he'd been there a thousand times.
"You're limping," she observed.
"A little," he admitted.
"You should let me take a look at your leg, make sure it's not getting infected."
Jax shook his head. "That's not why I came over. Rocky Road or mint chocolate chip?" He pulled two small containers of ice cream from the bag. "I got vanilla and strawberry, too- I wasn't sure what you'd want."
"Rocky Road," Tara said, wondering how it was possible that Jax just happened to get her favorite kind. He removed the lids from two of the containers and handed one to Tara, along with a plastic spoon. "Thank you," she said as she took a bite.
"You're welcome," he mumbled, his mouth full of mint chocolate chip. "So, how was the rest of your weekend?"
She couldn't tell him that she'd spent it daydreaming about him and avoiding his best friend, so she just said, "Fine. How about yours? Did your parents find out about your accident?"
"Not yet," he said, winking at her. "I've just been laying low. Ope's working on my bike. He thinks he can fix it, so hopefully they'll be none the wiser."
"Well that's good." Tara tried to ignore the guilt that tugged at her subconscious at the mention of Opie's name.
"So what's the deal with you and Opie, anyway? I know you said you guys are just friends, but I don't buy it."
Tara took a deep breath. How could she tell Jax the truth, that he'd inadvertently sabotaged any chance of her and Opie ever becoming a thing? "We are just friends," she assured him.
"So that wasn't a date I interrupted Friday?" he challenged.
"It was. But it was our first date, and I think we both realized that we're better off just staying friends," Tara lied.
Jax threw his head back and laughed. "I don't get the impression that Opie came to any such realization. You might want to talk to him about that."
A knot twisted in Tara's gut. "Yeah. I guess I probably should." She couldn't think about Opie anymore, so she changed the subject. "What about you and Charla? Are you guys serious?"
Jax chuckled and shook his head. "Friday night wasn't our first date, but it was definitely our last. She's just a girl."
"We're all just girls to you, aren't we?" Tara accused, her eyes narrowing.
Jax looked at the ground, suddenly seeming a bit self-conscious. "No. Not all of you." They finished the rest of their ice cream in awkward silence, neither of them sure what to say next.
Jax got up to toss his empty ice cream container into the trash, and Tara couldn't help but notice how much he favored his good leg.
"Alright," Tara sighed. "Let me see it." Jax turned to her, his brow furrowed in confusion. "The leg," she said, patting the bed beside her. Jax accepted the invitation a bit reluctantly. He wasn't quite as eager to accept help when he wasn't intoxicated or in excruciating pain. "Do you mind?" she asked, motioning to the cuff of his jeans. He shook his head. Tara carefully began to pull up his pant leg, trying not to let their close proximity rattle her. But he smelled so good. Once his jeans were up around his knee, Tara slowly removed the bandage. Jax winced in pain. "Sorry," she whispered as she inspected his wound. "Well, the good news is, it doesn't look infected."
"What's the bad news?" he asked.
"The bad news is, it looks painful as hell and it's gonna take a while to heal. Just make sure you keep it clean and take it easy, okay?"
"You got it, doc." The way Jax looked at her made her uncomfortable in the best sort of way, and she quickly rose from the bed.
"I'll go get some bandages and help you rewrap that," she offered, then exited the room before Jax could respond. Every inch of her skin was tingling and her heart was racing. What was happening? Jax Teller was in her bedroom, on her bed. Jax. Teller. How was this her life? She grabbed the first aid kit and took a deep breath as she returned to her room.
Her hands were shaking as she wrapped Jax's leg with gauze. He put a hand over hers to steady her.
"You nervous?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"A little," she admitted.
"Why?"
"You…you make me nervous." She regretted the words as soon as she said them, but she couldn't take them back. Her ears burning, she secured Jax's bandage with tape and tried to move away, but he caught her by her wrists.
"You make me nervous, too," he whispered, and moved in slowly enough that she had every opportunity to stop him, but she didn't. When his lips touched hers this time, it was different. It wasn't some drunken mistake made during a moment of lust. It was purposeful, meaningful. His hands found their way to the sides of her face, and he pulled her closer as he parted her lips with his tongue. Every nerve in Tara's body was alight with pleasure, and her heart was beating so loudly, she was sure Jax could hear it, too.
"Wow," she murmured as he slowly pulled away.
He bit his lower lip and grinned as he studied her face. "I'm glad you're not Opie's girl," he said.
"Why?" Her cheeks were flushed and her head was spinning.
"Because," he said as he brushed his thumb against her cheek, "I want you to be my girl."
"Hey." Opie's voice startled her, and Tara nearly dropped the books she was putting away in her locker.
"Opie," she gasped, pressing her hand to her chest in an attempt to steady her heartbeat. "Hi."
"I tried calling you this weekend," he said, sounding upset. "A few times, actually."
"Yeah, I'm sorry, I…I was busy. My dad came down with the flu and I spent the whole weekend taking care of him." She hated herself for lying. She was trying to spare Opie's feelings, but leading him on would be unnecessarily cruel at this point. She knew what she wanted, and it would never be him. She had to break things off so that as soon as he moved on, which Jax assured her he would do quickly, she and Jax could be together.
Opie's frown turned into a slight smile. "Oh. That's good. I mean, not good that your dad was sick, but I thought you were trying to avoid me or something." Tara smiled back, but it was only to hide the fact that she wanted to cry. "Hey, you wanna get out of here? Go hang out or something?"
"Sure," she said, her stomach a jumble of nerves. "I have something I need to talk to you about, anyway." This was her chance to tell him, not the whole truth, but part of it- that she just wanted to be friends. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and followed Opie out of the school.
On the back of Opie's bike, Tara was essentially his prisoner. She had no way to stop him from pulling into the SAMCRO parking lot, even though that was the last place she wanted to be. It wasn't until he turned off the engine that she was able to protest, and by then it was too late.
"What are we doing here?" she asked, trying not to let him hear the panic in her voice.
"Sorry, I forgot I had to drop something off to my dad. It'll just take a second, and then we can go to the park or something." He took Tara's hand in his and led her toward the building. Unlike the first time she was there, it was teeming with activity- mechanics in the garage working on cars, leather clad men and women coming in and out of the clubhouse, the stench of cigarette smoke in the air, loud music playing. It was a life that was completely foreign to her, but one she hoped to become a part of. She just hated that her first introduction to it was through Opie. That wasn't the way it was supposed to be. All she could do was hope that their visit would be quick, and that if she was quiet enough and blended into the background enough, no one would remember her.
"Theeeere he is," called a gruff voice from across the room as Tara took in her surroundings. A rotund man with piercing blue eyes and a jean cutoff vest made his way toward them. "You got my smokes, boy?"
"Yeah, Pop. Here you go." Opie pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his leather jacket and handed them to his father. "I still don't understand why you didn't just go buy a new pack."
"Now why would I do that when I had a perfectly good pack at home?" his father deadpanned, and Tara couldn't tell whether he was serious or teasing. "Who's this?" He motioned to Tara without really looking at her.
"Dad, this is Tara. Tara, this is my dad, Piney."
"Nice to meet you, sir."
Opie's father roared with laughter. "Son, what the hell you doing bringing a sweet girl like this to this shit hole?" As Opie and Piney bantered back and forth, Tara felt someone watching her. Jax was behind the bar, talking to a beautiful yet frightening looking woman with big hair, tight clothes, and a lot of makeup. His mother? He caught Tara's eye and motioned toward the back of the room.
"I'm sorry," Tara interrupted Opie and Piney. "But is there a restroom I can use?"
"Yeah, yeah," Opie said. "Right down that hall." She breathed a sigh of relief when he pointed to the same hallway Jax had just disappeared down.
"Thanks."
She felt the severe woman behind the bar watching her as she made her way across the room, and it made her uncomfortable. There were three doors down the long, dark hall, and Tara had no idea which one to choose. As she passed the first one, it opened just slightly, and a hand reached out and grabbed her arm. She covered her mouth so she wouldn't scream. Jax pulled her inside what appeared to be some sort of apartment.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he whispered. "I thought you were going to talk to Opie today."
"I am," she said. "That's why I'm with him. I didn't know he was going to bring me here."
"Shit," Jax hissed. "Okay." And then his expression turned from one of anger to one of amusement. "I guess there's one good thing about you being here." He backed Tara against the wall and pinched her chin lightly with his thumb, turning her face up toward his.
"What's that?" she asked, smiling expectantly.
"I get to do this." He kissed her, softly at first, then with a bit more urgency as his hormones took over. Tara tangled her hands in his beautiful sun-bleached hair. They were both so caught up in the moment, neither of them heard the door swing open.
"Wow," Opie mused. Jax backed away from Tara like she was on fire.
"Opie," she breathed, pressing her fingers to her lips.
"Well, I guess I know what you wanted to talk to me about."
Tara's voice trembled. "I didn't want you to find out like this, I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, I bet," Opie seethed.
"Hey, Ope…"
"You shut the fuck up," he warned Jax. "I knew you were gonna do this. I could tell by the way you were looking at her the other night that you were going to go after her. But you…" He turned to Tara, and she hung her head in shame. "I thought you were better than this. I should have known, though. Whatever Jax wants, Jax gets, right?"
"Opie," Tara pleaded, tears in her eyes.
"You're supposed to be smart, Tara. You have to know this isn't going to end well. He's just going to use you and hurt you and then toss you aside like he does to all the others."
"No," Jax argued, stepping in between Opie and Tara in an attempt to shield Tara from Opie's wrath. "It's not like that, man. This is different. I would never make a move on someone you were interested in if it wasn't."
"Yeah," Opie chuckled. "I guess we'll see. Tara, I trust that your boyfriend here will get you home. You can both go to hell." He slammed the door behind him as he exited.
Tara was shaking, and Jax wrapped his arms around her in an attempt to calm her down. "Well, that went well," he joked.
"We're terrible people," Tara said, her voice unsteady.
"No, we're not. We just have awful timing. And please don't worry about any of that shit he said. I meant what I told him, Tara. This is different. You're different."
Tara smiled as she leaned into Jax's comforting embrace. It was hard to be too upset in his arms.
"It's all gonna be alright," he assured her. "I promise."
"You alright?" Jax squeezed Tara's shoulder as they sat at the bar in the SAMCRO clubhouse. They'd been dating for just over three months, and she was still intimidated by his MC family, not least of all his mother, Gemma.
"I just…are you sure it's not too soon?" Opie had been successfully avoiding Tara since their confrontation at the clubhouse, but that was all about to change. They were having a birthday party for Jax's dad, the president of the MC, and all of the club members and their families were required to attend. Tara wasn't technically family, but Jax wanted her there, and she took advantage of any opportunity she got to spend time with him.
"It'll be fine," he assured her. "You're a part of my life now. And Ope's family. We can't just avoid him forever. Besides, I hear he's got a new little piece keeping him occupied these days."
"Jax," Tara scolded him, playfully jabbing him in the gut.
"Sorry. I hear he's….dating a lovely young lady he met recently. That better?"
Tara laughed. "You're such a dork."
"Yeah, but I'm your dork."
Tara kissed him on the cheek, afraid to do more than that under the watchful eye of his mother. "Yes, you are."
When the door opened, Tara stiffened in her seat. Opie walked in with a petite brunette on his arm and a smile on his face. He scanned the room, only allowing his eyes to land on Tara and Jax for a brief moment before moving on. And that's how it went all night, a series of near misses between them, until Tara could no longer take the tension and cornered Opie at the dessert table.
There was so much she wanted and needed to say to him, but all that came out was, "Hey."
"Hello, Tara." He greeted her as coolly as one might greet a stranger. She pretended it didn't sting, but it did.
"Your date's cute. What's her name?"
Opie sighed. "What do you want, Tara?"
"I just want to apologize, Opie. I know I handled things poorly, and I'm sorry for that."
"It's cool," he said nonchalantly. "I've moved on."
"I see that."
"Donna's a great girl. We're really happy."
"And I'm happy for you. So is Jax. I just don't want things to be weird between us. I know how much Jax misses you, and I would like for you and I to be able to be friends."
"Sounds good," Opie said, looking past Tara to where Donna was conversing with a couple of crow eaters.
"So we're good, then?" she asked hopefully.
Opie looked at her for the first time during their conversation. "No, we're not." Her eyes filled with tears, and he let out a resigned sigh. "But we will be. Someday." Tara smiled. 'Someday' was good enough for her.
~THE END~