Avery stepped off the plane and inhaled the California air, a scent she realized she had missed deeply. Only one thing surpassed this longing: Charming, and within it, Jax, her high school sweetheart who still possessed her heart.

"Don't go there, Ave," she told herself, attempting to halt the familiar thoughts of him.

Ten years had passed since Avery last saw Jax. She knew the sweet, thoughtful teenager she remembered was likely gone, just as she was no longer the naive girl who had left.

*****

   As the sun set on Charming, the cab arrived at the old Main Street real estate office, Mitchell Law's soon-to-be location.

A chubby, red-headed cab driver turned to face Avery. "Here we are. That'll be $6.45," he said.

Avery searched her purse for the fare and replied, "Thanks, Ralphy. Tell your mom I said hello."

They exited the cab and walked to the trunk. Ralphy took Avery's suitcases and placed them on the curb. "Will do, Avery. Welcome home," he said with a smile.

Having paid the taxi fare and seen Ralphy, a former high school classmate, off, she gazed at the two-story building. It had once housed a real estate office.

Returning to her hometown as a lawyer felt surreal, fulfilling a childhood dream. From a young age, Avery Mitchell had aspired to this profession, wanting to protect the local club that meant so much to her, even with its questionable legal practices.

Avery unlocked the building door, pulling her suitcases behind her. Stepping inside for the first time, she realized the online photos hadn't captured the extent of the needed repairs. As a new solo lawyer, this fixer-upper was all she could afford. Investing her savings felt risky, but Avery was determined. Her hard work would pay off, giving her the pride of ownership and something to potentially leave to her children.

She left her bags in the entryway and entered the room designated as her future office, setting her purse on the antique desk centered in the spacious area. Afterwards, she toured the building, visualizing paint colors for the walls, her choice of carpet or hardwood flooring, and the decorative elements she would use throughout the office.

With the movers scheduled to arrive at the end of the week, bringing all her belongings from her small office in North Carolina, the urgency to begin the renovations was palpable. She envisioned the boxes piling up, the furniture awkwardly placed in rooms that weren't quite ready, and the chaos that would ensue if she didn't make significant progress beforehand. Each room presented its own set of tasks, from fresh coats of paint to the rearrangement of existing fixtures. The living room, intended as a welcoming space, needed careful planning to accommodate both familiar pieces and the new additions from her North Carolina office. The bedroom, her sanctuary, required a more personal touch, a design that would foster tranquility and a sense of belonging in this new environment. Even the smaller spaces, like the entryway and hallways, demanded attention to create a cohesive flow throughout the house. The impending delivery of her office contents added another layer of complexity, as she needed to consider how those professional materials would integrate into her new home. Desks, shelving units, and filing cabinets would need designated spots, blending functionality with the overall aesthetic she hoped to achieve. The pressure was on to transform this unfamiliar house into a home before it was filled with the tangible reminders of her life in North Carolina.

Avery muttered, "Standing here isn't going to accomplish anything."

Leaving her luggage at the office, she took her purse and locked the building. Instead of driving, she decided to walk the four blocks to her parents' house. The sun had set, and a bright full moon illuminated the small town as she walked down Main Street to the corner store for a bottle of water.

Approaching the store, a parked motorcycle caused her heart to race and made her halt abruptly. She couldn't help but wonder if the striking black Dyna belonged to her beloved SON, the one that she'd loved and lost.

Ten years after leaving Charming, thoughts of that day began to flood her mind.

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Ten years ago (Avery's POV)

Jax traced his hand along my bare spine. We lay intertwined, breathless after our lovemaking. "I don't want you to leave," he murmured.

I turned to face him. "Then come with me."

"You know I can't."

"Can't or won't?" I sighed.

Jax, already out of bed and dressing, replied, "Both."

A tear traced my cheek. "Then I guess this is goodbye."

"It doesn't have to be," he offered. "We can try long distance if you want."

Rolling over, I stared at the man I loved, incredulous. "Are you kidding me? You... Jax Teller... want a long-distance relationship? You're willing to go without sex for who knows how long because you don't want to break up, and because you won't come with me?"

"Baby, I'd do anything for you. You know that," he said, climbing back into bed to kiss me tenderly.

"Everything but come with me."

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Avery wanted Jax to move with her to attend law school, but he refused. His ambition was to become Vice President of his motorcycle club, a position he longed to hold alongside his father, John, with the eventual goal of succeeding him as President. He couldn't abandon his club and the future he envisioned within it.

She willed herself to walk towards the store. Reaching the door within seconds, she saw him—her favorite biker—browsing children's books. The sight caused her familiar heart palpitations and weak knees, the ones that she had fallen victim to all those years ago.

Ten years hadn't diminished the powerful connection between Avery and Jax; her body and heart responded as if they were completing each other again. Jax's signature long, shaggy blonde hair, the hallmark of his past bad-boy persona, remained. However, the years had brought significant changes. The Jax Avery remembered from her departure from Charming a decade ago was merely fit. The man she now observed through the store window was undeniably muscular, amplifying his already considerable attractiveness.

And then he looked up.

Through the glass of the convenience store door, Avery and Jax locked eyes, each frozen in place.

A voice from behind Avery startled her. "Are you going in or what?" the stranger asked, clearly annoyed by her presence in the doorway. Avery turned and looked up at him.

"Yeah, uh, sorry." She mumbled, pulling the door open and hurrying inside the store. Despite her intense longing to run to Jax, she practically sprinted to the back, putting as much distance between them as possible.

Avery wandered the back aisles of the store, pretending to browse for a snack while actually observing Jax. She noted, with some surprise, that he hadn't followed her or engaged with the flirtatious clerk.

"Some things never change," Avery murmured, watching the young clerk adjust her bra and try to reveal more cleavage as she spoke to Jax. The girl, who looked barely eighteen, seemed intent on seducing him.

A pang of jealousy tightened in Avery's chest, a novel and unwelcome feeling sparked by the awareness that another woman desired Jax. Avery believed she knew him intimately, intimately familiar with their potent chemistry, his sensual expertise, and his touch that unlocked unprecedented pleasure. Memories of their shared intimacy flooded her mind, reinforcing their primal bond.

However, a disquieting thought persisted. Jax was her first and only sexual partner. Her understanding of his abilities, though deeply felt within their shared experiences, lacked external validation. She had no other experiences to compare against. Was her intense perception due to his unique talent, or simply her own inexperience? This realization introduced an undercurrent of uncertainty beneath her possessiveness, quietly questioning the very basis of her intimate understanding of Jax.

When he casually threw a box of condoms on the counter, a wave of intense jealousy washed over her. Despite not expecting him to be abstinent—unlike her own recent experience—the blatant evidence of his intimacy with someone else ignited a possessive feeling. She couldn't quite define the emotion, only recognizing the sharp pang of envy for the woman who was the recipient of his sexual attention.

The store clerk asked, "You know you can buy these by the case, right?"

"Box at a time keeps me humble." Jax smiled at her, a familiar expression Avery recognized well. Having been the recipient of that smile before, she understood its powerful effect on women. It was a smile capable of rendering even the most intelligent woman speechless.

"Let me get a pack of smokes too, Louise." Turning, Jax surveyed the store, his gaze settling on Avery.

Standing across from him, Ava felt a wave of nervous energy ripple through her. Her palms were damp, and her breath hitched slightly in her throat. She focused on a point just above his left shoulder, trying to appear composed even though her insides felt like a tangled mess of yarn. Just speak normally, she told herself, a silent mantra repeating in her mind. Don't let your voice wobble. Don't say something utterly ridiculous. The familiar knot of anxiety that always seemed to accompany interactions with him tightened in her stomach. "Ava, relax," she mentally coached herself, taking a slow, deliberate breath. "It's just Jax." The reminder, though meant to soothe, also brought a flush to her cheeks. Jax. The man who knew her better than almost anyone. The man who had, indeed, seen her naked before – a memory that still had the power to make her toes curl. "You've got this," she finished internally, attempting to project an air of confidence she didn't quite feel. She could do this. She just had to find the right words and deliver them without betraying the chaotic thoughts swirling within.

Just as she found the courage to approach and speak to him, a distant, loud boom interrupted her. The noise startled the clerk, who screamed, "what the hell was that?"

Outside the shop, a huge fire filled the sky like a giant mushroom cloud. Jax stopped what he was doing, totally captivated by the vastness of the flames. Then, as if he realized what the cause of the fire was, he raced out of the door of the store, jumping on his bike and peeled out of the parking lot, heading in the direction of the flames.