Author's Notes: I cannot give a summary of this chapter without spoiling anything. However, this chapter was uploaded with chapter 8 because I wasn't going to leave you hanging and I was already so excited to publish it! Chapter 9 is going to be kind of a lot to take in at once, and its an awful lot of talking, but I assure you it will save talking in the future. Just be prepared to suspend your disbelieve with this chapter a little.

To give some context, Schuyler has been in Charming (and known both Tig and Chibs) for 5 weeks total as of this chapter, and has been away from Texas for a total of 11 weeks.

Now, for the moment we've all been waiting for...

Chibs' gives Schuyler an address and instructions including which roads to take and where to park when she gets there. Schuyler wants to make a joke about how she has gone on runs requiring less stealth and vigilance on her part but is unable to. She understands the stakes surrounding this particular drive are much grander, even when compared to that of illegally crossing national borders. The three bikes set off in separate directions despite no tail being in pursuit of them. Mistakes cannot be afforded, and their choices are not founded upon lightly.

Schuyler is the last to arrive. She parks in the carport where she had been instructed and enters the house through a visually obstructed side entrance.

A single light is on in the house over a small two-chair dining room table next to a leather sofa. Schuyler imagines herself walking into a hidden location to endure an interrogation. Quite frankly, she is.

"Don't everyone jump to greet me at once. Ain't anyone goin' to offer to show a girl around?" Schuyler's tone is condescending. The townhouse is cleaner than she expected it to be, but it is void of personality and smells like a cannabis field.

"You should sit," Tig states. "Sort through some things before this melee ensues." He is sitting in the seat closest to the kitchen. He rubs irritably at his facial hair and settles his hands firmly on his thighs. His fingers spread wide to match the spread of his legs. Failing on all fronts to feign confidence.

"You mean, before you reveal anything you can't possibly take back."

Behind Tig, and a few steps away, Chibs had been pacing so much he has practically created a trench in his floor boards in front of the kitchen walkway. Schuyler's voice stops him. His face and posture settle in equal measures of rigidity. His need for a poker face betrays how worried he is.

Schuyler wittingly chooses to sit in a chair where her back will be against a wall. Never mind it is the last chair at the illuminated table. She feels the weighted pressure of the men's eyes meeting her with full force. "So, how long have you two known you were polyamorous?"

"Come –"

"— the fuck –"

"— again?"

"Easy." Schuyler raises her hands above the table in surrender. Heat is rolling off their bodies from their pent-up anxiety. She considers they are less prepared for this discussion than they anticipated and decides it is important to make clear she is not a threat to either of their wellbeing. "I should have known better. No big words on the first date."

At the mention of 'date', Tig's ears comically, almost literally perk up in attention and the back of his neck warms. His eyes dart away from her and back again.

"Let's start at the beginning. How long has," she makes vague gestures between their forms, "this been goin' on?"

"Long enough."

Chibs, the more thoughtful of the two, makes his voice heard by giving a sincere reply. "About nine years. Seven, officially."

Schuyler extends her sympathy. An olive branch as much as it is a genuine attempt to cultivate a connection. "I can imagine how difficult those first two years were for you."

"No, you canna ever imagine that."

"I see." Schuyler understands she has no right to be offended. Yet, the mention of not being able to understand something because it happened in the past creates a massive concern for her. She refuses to get involved in anything, no matter how casual or severe, where she will be treated as an outsider. Again. She purposefully over steps a boundary of her own. "And who stopped putting in the effort, hmm? Surely one of you is presenting a problem only a new face can hope to solve."

"You listen here." Chibs' sensible and standoffish demeanor vanishes when he feels attacked in his own home. He has to plant his feet to keep from advancing and crowding the table. He knows his doing so would upset Tig and he had promised to speak with the woman before deciding on any one course of action. But he will not stand for Schuyler belittling his private life in any way.

"We've been fine as we are for damn near a decade. Never once 'ave we risked our relationship by telling someone or inviting them in. It wanna just Tiggy with all his faults for fancying you!"

Schuyler cuts him off. "Wait, so you're saying you 'fancy' me as well? You've proven tonight you certainly like the concept of me."

Chibs' face drops. His momentum ruined. "In so many words."

"You could add a few more of your own, you know."

Tig gathers the confidence to inject a joke. "You're the first broad Chibby's looked at in a hot minute. Got the old man wanting to court again."

"Really?" Schuyler bats her eyes like a feline catching first sight of their prey.

"What I'm saying is this," Chibs regains the reins. "We're equally willing. If you canna accept that fact, then you need to leave right fucking now!"

Chibs' stern, elevated voice chills Schuyler to the bone. Yet, instead of being appalled, she regards him much in the same way she regarded Tig in the garage. He is a man who knows he has no choice but to do what is in the best interest of those around him. He isn't angry or spiteful. He's protecting someone he loves more than he can ever express. Her heart softens immensely. "This is real for you, isn't it?"

"Course it fucking is!"

"No, I mean this isn't a game to you."

"I risk my life, my standing with the club that saved me life, every goddamn day, so I can be with him." Passion overwhelms Chibs' voice and nearly brings tears to his eyes. "This has never been a joke and cannot be where yer concerned. This is a risk right here, admitting this to you."

"Then that's what I want," Schuyler speaks plainly. Her voice is unwavering, feeling an honest admittance is the least she owes to those who brought her into their sanctuary. "I don't want to be another booty call. I don't want to be a point on your score boards."

She sits up straighter and forms a steeple with her hands which turns into a blade she gestures with while lecturing. "You think you're risking everything bringing me here? Sure, the club might kill the two of you, but it will be quick. Lack intimacy. But me?" Schuyler's eyes grow dark with the weight of her past and the uncertainty of her future weighing her down. "I'm already hanging on by a teether. If any one finds out, they will burn me as a witch in town square. My father's reputation will be tarnished because he patched me. My charter will be cut off from the network for producing me. Progress will never be made. My life's work will go up in the flames with me."

Tig's voice is raw when he asks, "Why risk coming here?"

"Why'd you risk bringing me here, to chase something you can't even put a name to?"

Tig's coping mechanism is humor. He finds the quickest way to make himself comfortable is to make others uncomfortable. "I don't know what the hell the old man is doing, but I'm trying to bring home a new mommy for me and my daddy to play with."

Schuyler responds nonchalantly. "You're so unhinged. It's unbelievable this whole operation hasn't come crashing down. I'd bet my bike this game of Russian Roulette was your brilliant plot."

"Can't say I've never used my powers for good."

"And how the fuck did you end up here exactly?" Schuyler rounds on Chibs. "Him, I get. I've seen him look sideways at tailpipes when they warm up. Shouldn't you be predisposed to a different sort of inclination?"

This is the unfavorable response Chibs had expected to hear when she commented on his rosary. He finds himself laughing at the ridiculousness of the woman's claim as opposed to being outright offended by it. "The cross donna burn my skin. I say my Hail Mary's when I have to repent. This man has never given me a reason to feel guilty and I feel guilt over everything. I've done plenty to be nervous for, but the interpretations of mortals donna frighten me, and our relationship is my reprieve."

Chibs walks forward and briefly squeezes Tig's shoulder. The contact reassures one man as much as the other. Chibs renews his tactic, unwilling to let Schuyler run the discussion off its tracks. He knows someone has to be the adult and he always manages to be the one to take up the role. Someone has to speak openly for the discussion to progress. "There's no use in pretending, is there? Yer all Tig can talk about. And he's spoken highly. Do ye really plan to sit there and say you werena coming onto me at the Patch-Over?"

Schuyler leans back in her chair and rolls her eyes to the ceiling. "What are we, twelve? You knew where I went. I knew what you were up to down that seedy ass hallway. But you didn't pull away from me."

"I was hesitant to be sure but wouldna pulled away. Why did you?"

Her eyebrows rise on her forehead. Her thoughts are more than heedful. "How was I to know I wasn't a residual hormonal response?"

Tig sneers and Schuyler catches a glimpse of how vile he can truly be when provoked. "How'd you know he wasn't trying to get his dick wet? Gonna leave you purple, passed out on the floor?"

"Tig."

"Is that why you pulled away from me in the garage, killer?" Schuyler challenges. "The big bad wolf is scared of getting his heart stepped on. You can't hide behind that flash forever, Sergeant."

"Hey." Chibs inhabits the role of the protector. "It's not your place to thrust that on him."

Chibs is stunned by Tig's response. "I wanted her to speak her mind. Prove she could hang." Schuyler recalls one of their past conversations. "What's the point in bringing her in if we're not gonna keep busting each other balls?"

"Is ball-busting the extent of what you have in mind?" Tig loosens his sneer.

"He's right, you know. As much as I hate to inflate his ego. I was being overly cautious with you. Couldn't take a chance on anyone around us waking up. On it being a one-time thing. No warning or caution." Chibs' arms go limp at his sides. Disappointment bubbles to the surface over his being able to point blame towards others as easily as he can to himself for Schuyler's innate need to be alert. "But, I wouldn't be here if I gave credible thought to either of you being reckless or uncontrollable or stupid. I think a hell of a lot higher of both of you."

Tig smiles slyly, flattered by her admission. "You too, though I'm probably granting more credit than is due. There's a difference between some of the assholes who hang around the club and those who are patched into it. Different rules apply. Hell, I know that better than most. And the club usually gets it right."

Schuyler frowns and gestures at the door she entered through. "Though tonight didn't present an optimal example."

Tig cracks up. "Boy, can I time 'em or what? Nothing like a show of force to get everybody keyed up!"

Schuyler shuts him down. "See there. That's what I'm getting at. You think I don't know what Clay or Bobby would do if they knew I was here." She acknowledges Chibs. "This right here. It's not just screwing around with you." She points to Tig. "Not just screwing around with you. Chicks don't Patch to avoid affairs, right? Keeps from mudding the waters."

They nod to her point independent of each other. "To add on top of it what I assume it is you two do. What with Tig hiding his bike the way he does. How many nights are you here? Couple in a week, but never two in a row. Not once in so many years. I know what they would do to you. The hate some of them could hold, for you, because of this."

Schuyler's words remind each of them of the threat looming above their heads beyond the safe borders of the house. "Makes what I did to the carnie look like he got off easy. Me, I'm young and supposed to be making stupid mistakes like this. But what the hell is your excuse for bringing me here?"

A look is shared between them where they communicate silently. Tig tries to alleviate the tension. "You can show me your ink and we'll settle this without having to take it any further. What's say you, Chibby?"

Chibs manages a small chuckle. He steps away from the table and doesn't look at the woman when he responds. "She's rather fit, isn't she?"

"I've never considered myself a good enough lay to die for." Schuyler's hands sink to her lap. "Or to endanger what's already set up here."

Chibs settles atop his coffee table. Sitting lower than those at the dining table, his form is shrouded in enough light to cover everything except his face and hands, Chibs' command for recognition is persistent. "I'd never risk Tigger. May not act it, but we're adults – on occasion – and we came to the decision together. We're not interested in a mistress."

"Objection. I'm interested in a mistress – or three."

Chibs ignores him. "Tig came to me asking for this years ago. I told 'em I'd agree to it if we did it together. And I had to know, whoever it was, I could trust the other person with him."

Chibs's concern for the man, whom he is bodily guarding with his proximity and honesty, is humbling. Schuyler feels herself privileged to be witness to it knowing with certainty she is the only other person who has. However, she has yet to be convinced she can trust the other man at face value, and lets it be known. "What's your excuse? Tigger."

Tig has never been one to care much for how others refer to him. He responds to insults at the same rate he responds to his birth name. Hearing Schuyler use the name he had been gifted however, has a certain ring to it. The syllables sound more weighted when they are spoken by her. The name resonates throughout his body to below his waistline and, for a split second, he is able to drop his act.

"What'd you call it? Being pre-disposed." He looks to Chibs who wills him to be honest. "I share a lot of things in common with this guy. But this one's on me. I've got this…need…inside. And you're right, I don't got a word to call it" .There's an intensity in his eyes. "What I do know is I can't stand how many hours in the day I spend thinking about you. I'm guessing there's one way it's going to stop."

Tig averts his gaze, opting to look at the ground. He managed to say more than he believed himself capable. Especially to someone who, for all intents and purposes, he should regard as a near stranger. Yet, every word he spoke had been true. And he's relieved he said them after having held the words in for so long.

Chibs focuses on lowering his heart rate. He regrets having raised his voice towards the woman whom he has been quietly admiring from afar. While it is true this began as Tig's endeavor, and Chibs could have never predicted he would be placed into such a predicament, stranger things can and have happened to him in his lifetime.

Like meeting Tig, for instance.

After having met Tig, in a way he never should have, in a time he most definitely needed to, how could he ignore the sign of meeting Schuyler in the way he had, at the time he did. He would be blatantly lying if he tried to say he had no personal investment in the brazen woman who came to his house despite her having had every reason to ignore the invitation. Neither his upbringings nor the risks associated with the actions he is taking can prevent him from, almost desperately, wanting to pursue this new path. Albeit Chibs is wise enough to understand, and not without his own influence, he will be responsible for leading Schuyler onto the same boat he and Tig have been paddling in for years – a long ways from shore, without an oar between them.

"Look." Schuyler begins anew. A bit calmer, more rational. "I know my transfer hasn't been easy. I also know we've been circling each other for weeks. And, I've suspected something has been going on here."

At this declaration, the couple looks to her with identical expressions of horror. "I promise, no one else could possibly guess this was it." Schuyler's tone resolves to a soothing, melodic rhythm. "I'm more in tune to notice these things." She references her personal experiences. "And the energy we've been putting off, it's the same when we're alone together."

"Sounds like free-loving hippie-dip-pie shit if you ask me." Tig dismisses her claim.

"You should meet my mother," Schuyler sighs willfully. "She'd be so proud."

Chibs' makes his position clear. "No one. Can ever. Know. For this to work, we need trust, and the way to earn our loyalty is by keeping what happens in this house between us."

Schuyler pops each of her wrists then crosses her arms on the table. "Seems an easy rule to follow. I don't want anyone to know my business."

The established couple reciprocate a glance. Regardless that Schuyler had meant for her statement to be a joke, she brings up an excellent concern.

"There are more," Chibs admits.

"Many more." Tig's comment sounds spiteful.

The men have had rules between them for as long as they have been an item. Once established they never sought to revisit them. However, the same concerns that made the men formulate their rules in the first place are being reintroduced as a new party is being brought into the rink. The three will have to decide collectively if they can operate under the same pretenses the men have for many years or if new precautions need to be weighed and implemented.

"As there should be. I'm willing to hear your conditions. But you have to be open to hearing my opinion on any I don't vibe with."

Unable to remaining seated for long, Chibs stands to reenter the conversation in a less defensive manner. He places a hand on the back of Tig's chair and proceeds to conduct the conversation much like how one would conduct a board meeting. "Alright. First thin' ye've got ta understand. We're navigating an open relationship."

"I gathered as much."

Tig clarifies his statement. "Club's gotta see us hooking up."

"Donna care who it is or how many. Long as there's no fighting between us or sharing a score. Stake your claim. If two of us want a girl and canna agree, walk away."

Tig looks perplexed. "Hold up. Do you mean to tell me you're a switch-hitter?"

Schuyler cracks up with laughter. "I think the question you mean to ask is: Do I get laid, bare minimum, twice as much as you do. And the answer is, yes, by the by. You missed all sorts of fun things skipping out on the Patch-Over."

"Can we reassess that last rule?" Tig looks about as innocent as a venomous snake. "I think I'm suddenly open to sharing."

Chibs gives an unamused look, but Schuyler beats him to the punch. She invents a reason to keep the rule instated. One more enticing to Tig than the mere proposal of a threesome. "I agree with the rule. No inviting outsiders. I've got a possessive streak in me, you know. I don't see me trying to share my toys panning out too well."

"The rule stands." Chibs' eyebrows have a mind of their own when he points them at Tig in warning. "It furthers my next point; you canna bring them home. Home means your place, it means Tig's place, it means here. If we're home, we're focusing on each other."

"That's very sweet," Schuyler teases the older gentleman, "and reasonable."

"It's practical." Chibs nearly plays off his comment like his commitment to the rule is not rooted in pure sentiment, but Schuyler sees through him.

Tig sets up the stakes for the next rule. "If I don't like the person you're about to hook up with, I can veto it. Any reason. Same goes for you. No argument. Just tap me on the shoulder, say 'veto', and I'll walk away. Saves' whole lot a trouble."

"What, in the middle of a strip club after you've already been grinding on a worker. Won't that look suspicious?" Schuyler brings up her concerns. "How often have you played that card?"

"Never." Tig sounds like he's bragging. Proud, it would seem, of always getting his conquests.

"We know who to avoid to keep from riling each other up. But you can use it," Chibs assures her, and Schuyler finds herself wanting to believe his word. "Something else you're gonna do. Use condoms, when yer not with us." The second part of the sentence sounds like the beginning of a suggestion.

Schuyler's eyes flit between them. "Are you requiring we use condoms?" She gives Chibs a once over while he is standing. Chibs' ability to lead the conversation coupled with his posture do not go unnoticed by Schuyler. She decides outright he most likely conducts himself in a similar fashion while in the bedroom.

She is equally admirable of Tig's actions. The way he subtly leans his back against the hand on his chair. His hand dropped to his side at one point to not-so-subtlety brush against Chibs' leg and signal he had something to say. He turns his head in recognition each time the man behind him speaks and Tig naturally complies with Chibs who leads the discussion. Schuyler has no doubt this, too, is Tig's role behind closed doors. A stark contrast to how he is determined to conduct himself within club ranks.

Chibs sighs heavily. He parts his lips in contemplation. "We can discuss it, when the time comes."

Schuyler hums pleasantly. She sounds like she's purring. "Nothing seems unreasonable. My freedom as a woman doesn't feel threatened, yet."

"Good." Chibs moves on. "Canna sleep with someone more than twice. Keeps from forming attachments. It's cheating otherwise."

"Twice seems like a lot."

Tig asks, "What if someone's a good lay?"

"Was that your addition to the playbook?"

"The one argument I've won in seven years!"

Schuyler has never considered herself a jealous person. Then again, she's never been in a situation even approaching the one she's entering into. She's never held a relationship with anyone outside her chosen family ties. She's yet to harbor feelings of infatuation until quite recently. With each new rule laid before her it becomes increasingly more apparent this "open relationship" is more closed than the men realize, and it is far more than she has ever attempted to take on. With one person – one partner – much less with two simultaneously.

And yet. She keeps nodding her head. Willing to hear the terms and longing to progress the discussion seemingly willed by a force inside her she has never known to exist and absolutely never wanted to indulge. "I can live with the two-limit rule. Tell me, what happens if someone breaks a rule?"

Tig's eyes glisten darkly. "There's a punishment."

"Easy lovely." Chibs' slip of the tongue reveals how vulnerable he's allowing himself to feel in Schuyler's presence. Schuyler's heart skips a beat when she registers the endearment. "We will agree upon reparations equal to the transgression."

Schuyler wants to test her limits. "What if I don't agree to the punishment chosen for me?"

"Do you plan on breaking our rules?" Chibs extends the same tone of voice he had used to reel Tig in to Schuyler. "Majority rules, I fear." He is settling into the role he feels most comfortable portraying.

"I'm strangely comfortable with it." Schuyler reclines in her seat. She brings her foot up to the seat and rests her arm atop her knee for balance. "I'm impressed you boys came up with so many sensible rules. Are you ready to hear my amendments?"

Tig makes a mocking joke. "I think you should start on probation. See if you last the week before you get to make demands."

"Shit's not going to fly." Schuyler shows how forceful she can be. "I just got off probation with this charter. Before that, I was on probation for six damn weeks with SANDINO after I had run the Mexican border for two years. I heard what you had for me. Now you're going to return the fucking favor, or I'll walk away right now and pretend this shit didn't just happen."

Chibs pats Tig on the back and speaks. "You have suggestions I take it?"

"Just one. It's going to sound dumb, but I don't want either of you fucking women older than me."

"Shit, done." Schuyler is serious, but Tig takes her request as a joke since he already prefers women of a younger age bracket.

"Why's that?" Chibs asks in equal measures of curtesy and curiosity.

Schuyler rolls her eyes. "Obviously, there's a gap in the amount of experience that has been obtained in this room. Let's not add to it."

Chibs nods thoughtfully. "Good. But I want you to do the same. No one older than me."

Tig butts in. "She's not going to find anyone older than you who can still get it up."

"You better hope I can get it up." Chibs flicks Tig's ribs through the wooden chair posts. Tig has no other choice but to retaliate. He rises from his chair and advances, pushing Chibs across the room.

Schuyler observes fondly as they quarrel for a time. Tig works his shoulder against Chibs' abdomen to force the eldest into a corner. Chibs lifts him mere millimeters; enough to turn him and have him bounce off the front door. The two are fairly matched, but Schuyler knows their struggling is an innocent way to blow off steam and a less messy alternative. "You're gonna be shit out of luck."

"Easy," Schuyler speaks soothingly to regain their attention. The entertaining display doesn't prevent Chibs' comments from going unnoticed by the woman. "Don't break the machinery before I get a chance to test drive it. I take it you two don't share my same interest in men?"

"Too dangerous," Tig murmurs, though he nods towards Chibs insinuating it's more eldest's precaution. He lands heavily back in his seat. "Image is too important."

"'s not my cuppa," Chibs replies, lazily. He also chooses to sit, once again on the coffee table, preferring to remain mobile. Always changing his location. "Guess it would infringe on yer freedoms if we asked you to avoid men?"

"You got a jealous streak in you? What are we, planning on going steady? Not like it'll mean much, anything I do with them. It's the same thing we're doing here, right?" Schuyler makes a venture to gain clarity into what either man truly expects to gain from future interactions. When she doesn't receive a verbal answer, she lets the subject drop knowing it would be better to let things process in their own time. "I'm not going to ask you to avoid blondes. You don't get to ask me to limit my sexuality."

"Aye. That'd a be alright."

"Speaking of vetoing." Schuyler feels like she has been in church since she arrived. "What do we do when a vote is brought to the table? How do we go about dealing with club shit with –," another vague hand gesture, "— whatever it is you want to call this?"

Chibs huffs a sigh. "Tig has to vote with Clay. Jus' have to accept he's going to vote against me. We're not gonna undercut the club with back-room bargains."

Tig's pout is playful. "And I'm banished to the couch for a month after every damn vote."

"A week at most." Chibs responds charismatically. "And you do plenty to deserve it."

"Do not."

"Do too." Schuyler finds herself giggling at their banter.

Chibs is pleased with himself for being able to amuse her, but a matter of significant importance (one he had been putting off) prevents him from showing it. "There's one more thing I can think of. You heard me say we use condoms, but I have to ask ye. When was the last time you found yerself tested?"

The doctor in Schuyler doesn't shy away from the unattractive question. She's impressed Chibs thought far enough in advance to ask. "About a year ago. I'm pretty regular, all in all. I'm hoping you two can say the same."

They nod in tandem. "Chibby makes sure of it or else I'd forget. Another one of his rules."

"It's to ensure our health." Chibs clears his throat and traces his beard with his hand. "And I know this bit is rather personal, but I have to know before I can let anything more continue. Do you use any sort of preventive?" Chibs asks, nearly through clenched teeth. The muscles in his cheeks contest with the effort to fuel his concentration.

Schuyler looks the eldest dead in the eye. Her face doesn't change, but her voice is pure sin, dragged down by the weight of her knowledge of the truth behind the question. "Are you so excited you got to ask me that question?"

Tig's breath catches when the most seductive smirk he has ever seen takes up real estate on Schuyler's face.

She holds up her left arm dramatically and gives it a slap. "Implant. Literally incapable of leaving the house without it. I've got a few more weeks on it. I can have a new one placed when I get my annual."

Chibs is satisfied. He nods, acknowledging she is agreeing to his as well as Tig's terms.

And with her agreement comes a new sort of tension in the room.

The tension is radiating from Tig. Though it is equally as important for her to respect Tig's boundaries, the man himself is not in a stable enough head space to be abiding by any sort of limitations. Tig, for his part, has just realized he has received the green light to pursue Schuyler without the accompaniment of his overbearing and frustratingly cautious partner.

If a contract had been sat in front of her, Schuyler would have gladly signed it with a lipstick imprint. However, her verbal acknowledgement to abide by the existing couple's multitude of rules would have to suffice. More so than being bound by the laws of man, she will be bound by the laws of the outlaw. Her word under the spotlight of the cramped dining table is as good as a blood oath binding her to those in the room. Her first true test of commitment would come when she stepped foot out the door and encountered the first person she stumbled across. She will make her loyalty known in due time. The two men have to extend their trust first and allow her the space to prove herself.

Schuyler rises, walking quickly towards the door she entered from. "I'll see you boys around."

Tig shakes himself from his haze and calls after her retreating form. "Where the hell are you going?"

"I've loitered around here long enough, and I have a busy day ahead of me."

Tig hastily attempts to find a reason for Schuyler to stay. "At least, I mean, the least you could do is stay for a drink."

"We all know a drink is the furthest thing from your mind." She stops with her hand on the door knob and winks into the dining room. "Besides. For this to continue, things need to progress organically."

Schuyler disappears into the night. The last either man sees or hears from her for several days is the sound of her motorcycle as it leaves the carport.

By the time Chibs gets his bearings and stands from the coffee table to face Tig, Tig himself has jumped to his feet. A hard-on pressing against his constricting jeans. "Holy Mother of Christ."

The two do not make it to the couch, much less the bedroom across the house. Chibs grabs Tig's hips in the same moment Tig crushes their lips together and he forces Tig into the kitchen against the nearest countertop.

Author's Notes: Sorry if I overhyped this chapter by naming it the 'Hook-Up'. I use the term loosely in my notes a ton and it has become a private joke. However, the dam has finally broken between the primary romance of this series and these three amazing characters. I love them and their (future) relationship dearly and I'm so happy to finally be sharing this chapter with others. You shall be rewarded for sticking with me this long in chapter 10 and onwards!

For those who like to read teasers, here is something to get you excited for the next instalment:

Schuyler's secret scheme is revealed and she injects SAMCRO into civilian life for a single day. Surely, this will not have any dire consequences for any or all characters involved. We learn more about Schuyler's past, her relationships develop with Juice and Half-Sack (For those who have been waiting for more of Schuyler and Juice's friendship to develop, get ready), and Schuyler and Tig hook up - for real this time!