Fly By Night | Sons of Anarchy Fanfiction | Jax Teller x OC

Chapter Twenty-Two

Allie stepped out of her car and took a deep breath. Time to put her game face on. After a whole weekend of basically non-stop work, she was ready to deliver the goods, so to speak. It really, really didn't help that her heart was thundering away in her chest. Nerves gnawed away at her stomach, her palms were sweaty, and for a fleeting moment, she almost ducked back into her car, if even to have one more moment to catch her breath.

Not that it would matter much. Or help.

As her fingers punched out a quick text to let him know she was in the parking lot, her eyes darted warily around the parking lot, searching for any signs of Gemma. Normally, whenever she made these trips to the clubhouse, Gemma was out here by now, knocking on her window with a big, shit-eating smile on her face. Today, though, Gemma was nowhere to be found. She half-expected Gemma to pop up next to her like something out of a horror movie.

Allie steeled her resolve, and tossed her phone back in her bag.

She could do this. She was a professional, goddamn it, and she had a job to do and she was going to do it the only way she knew how - thoroughly, efficiently, and excellently.

Just for good measure, she smoothed a wrinkle from her black and cream plaid skirt, taking good care to make sure her black turtleneck was tucked in at the back as she started toward the clubhouse's main entrance. Despite the fact that, even for early November, it was still a pretty warm, sunny morning, she'd purposefully chosen an outfit that covered up as much skin as she possibly could. Her turtleneck, while pretty light and airy in material, stopped at her elbows, and her skirt, while still pretty tight and stretchy, hit at about four inches below her knees.

That was calculated. Allie wouldn't deny it if he asked her point-blank, but she figured this was really for his own good. Considering the fact that, the last time they'd spoken on the phone was at about 10:00 last night, when she'd been in her bed, with her favorite toy, dutifully following the rule he'd set forth for this past weekend - she felt like she was doing him a favor, especially since she'd followed his rule to the letter, and went for the extra credit on Sunday by calling him three times, instead of twice.

It was safe to say he was pretty sexually frustrated by this point. And it was also safe to say that she was enjoying it.

When the clubhouse's double doors swung open, those butterflies prepped for take-off, checking all the proper checkpoints and calculations before leaving the ground. And then she got a good look at the Reaper cut heading toward her and those butterflies killed the engine.

Allie schooled the frown that was surely pressed on her lips and pushed a friendly smile on her face instead, giving Juice a little wave as she ventured closer.

He tipped his chin to her with his hands in his pockets, leisurely walking toward her as he closed the distance between them.

Allie smothered her disappointment - this was fine. This was for the best. In fact, this was really for her own good. He was doing her a favor, and probably himself a favor too. The more distance they could keep between themselves at the clubhouse right now, the better.

"Hey, Juice," she called out to him when they met in the middle.

His face broke apart into an easy grin, but there was something about his sudden closeness that set her a little off-kilter. Something about the way he lingered in front of her, the way his eyes narrowed just a fraction, that had her palms sweaty again. There was no way the club knew yet. She was sure he would've told her and given her fair warning before she showed up here this morning.

"Hi, Allie," Juice greeted her good-naturedly. "How's it goin' today?"

"Ah, you know," she smiled. "It's Monday. And you?"