Movie night at Ezra's tonight. :D
Ezra read the message Jett had posted in the group chat again. Yep, it was really there. His name. Well, okay then. Honestly, it was already a miracle she'd kept quiet this long about her contact with Phantom.

Alright. Don't have much at home though, he typed back. Then he put his phone on silent and sank back onto the couch. They'd barely gotten any sleep last night, and he'd just wrapped up a long workweek. He was exhausted, and apparently, turning in early tonight was off the table too.

A power nap always did wonders.

About an hour later, he got up from the couch again. It was three o'clock. Still time to tidy up the place a bit. His head was buzzing with memories from the day before—fantastic memories, thankfully without any bitter aftertaste.

Waking up together hadn't been awkward, and making breakfast side by side had felt surprisingly natural. Unfortunately, Phantom had gotten a call at ten, summoning him to his club. That still rubbed Ezra the wrong way. Not because Phantom left—more because Ezra didn't trust that place. He doubted it was a good influence on anyone. As the youngest member, Phantom was probably at the bottom of the hierarchy, being bossed around like a dog. Just thinking about it made Ezra's skin crawl.

The idea of Phantom being treated like crap stirred a deep, near-aggressive sense of injustice in him. But it was Phantom's choice to be part of that club. If Ezra wanted to be with him, he'd have to accept the whole biker gang package.

Hopefully, that wouldn't cause too many issues—because those guys clearly meant something to Phantom. Still, it didn't help that Phantom had felt so unsafe around them that he couldn't even admit his feelings a few months ago.

At exactly eight o'clock, Jett dropped down onto the couch with Wes. A massive grin spread across her face. But she didn't say a word.

Classic Jett—waiting until the whole gang was present before lighting the fire. Luckily for her, it didn't take long before Tyson and Lacey came strolling in.

"Okay okay, spill already!" she said, scooting excitedly to the edge of the couch.

Ezra raised an eyebrow. "Pretty sure you're the one itching to talk."

Grinning, she grabbed a handful of paprika chips from the bowl. "Touché. Alright. So, you guys remember that biker Ezra was totally into, right?" She looked around expectantly, clearly not realizing she was the only one deeply invested in his love life.

Wes shrugged, Tyson looked back and forth in confusion, and Lacey narrowed her eyes.

"That asshole who ghosted you?" she asked Ezra, scrutinizing him. "Did he finally grow a pair after all these weeks?"

Jett's grin stretched even wider. "Bet Ez held them in his hand last night too."

Lacey frowned, more confused than ever. "Huh? You didn't say a word about this at work yesterday."

"That's the beauty of it!" Jett crowed. "Phantom called me 'cause he wanted to set up a super romantic evening. I had to make sure Ezra was free that night. And it was amazing, right? You guys totally hooked up. You've got that I've-been-dreaming-about-this-guy-for-months-and-finally-banged-him glow on your face."

Lacey raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were all old-school. Like, sex after the fifth date or whatever."

Ezra wasn't exactly thrilled to talk about his sex life, but everyone got interrogated by Jett as if they were still in high school. "I just don't sleep with people I don't know. Or barely know."

Sure, they'd spent maybe twenty-four hours together in total, but their conversations had gone deep from the start. "Sometimes it takes four months to feel like you still don't know someone. Sometimes it happens faster."

"In other words: he's hot, and you couldn't help yourself," Jett teased, grinning. "But wow, Ez! I'm so happy for you!" She jumped up and wrapped him in a hug. "Was he worth the wait? What did you guys do?"

"If it was something cheesy, I'm gonna be real disappointed in you," Lacey warned. "He treated you like crap. Didn't expect you to forgive him so easily."

"He got me tickets to a From Ashes To New show."

"Holy shit! That's even better than any of my ideas."

Ezra grinned, satisfied.

"Okay, that's... seriously cool," Lacey admitted grudgingly.

"And now what? When are you seeing him again? When do we get to meet him?"

"Sometime this week. We haven't picked an exact day yet." He gently pushed Jett away. "And you'll meet him eventually."

She pouted. "A photo, at least?"

"Ask him yourself. You've got his number, don't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Lame."

Ezra shrugged and accepted a beer from Tyson, who sat down beside him. His best friend didn't say a word—just nudged his shoulder in a way that said: Happy for you, man.

If he were going to introduce Phantom to anyone, it'd be Tyson. Maybe he'd even want to tag along to that biker bar. At least he wouldn't attract as much attention as Jett or be as quick to judge as Lacey.

Two weeks later, he found himself standing in front of the Mayans' clubhouse with his best friend. Knowing a lot of biker gangs formed around shared backgrounds, Ezra had asked Phantom beforehand whether Tyson would even be welcome as a black man. Apparently this chapter was mostly Latino, but Phantom had never heard anything discriminatory and didn't expect any issues.

Still, Ezra could tell Tyson was a bit on edge. Which made sense—he had no idea how Ezra and Phantom had even met.

Ezra pushed open the door. This was the first time he'd stepped inside since Phantom had sent him away. In the two weeks since the concert they'd seen each other three times—once cut short by a call from Phantom's club. They'd just finished cooking and Phantom had barely taken two bites. That had stung, but Ezra had known what he was getting into. He tried to think of it like dating someone in emergency services: always on call. Even if Phantom wasn't out saving lives.

One of the other times had been a low-key movie night—though they'd lost interest in the movie after about ten minutes. The third had been a ride on his bike. Phantom had even let him take the wheel, just like he'd promised.

Ezra was hooked. He wanted his license.

He stepped into the clubhouse. It had been his idea to come tonight—an easy way to get a feel for Phantom's world. Coming with his best friend seemed like a low-stakes way to do it, instead of walking in hand-in-hand with Phantom. Things were still a bit uncertain between them. Ezra didn't think Phantom was seeing anyone else, but they hadn't really defined what they were, either.

"I was trying to guess who it was, but someone's glowing so hard I'm getting butterflies myself."

Ezra chuckled and elbowed Tyson. "You're being dramatic."

He saw Phantom detach from the bar. He was smiling—no doubt—but Ezra could also tell he was tense.

Ezra hugged him like he would any close friend. To his surprise, Phantom gave him a quick kiss before pulling him in tighter.

"Hey," he said, his eyes truly sparkling.

Ezra felt the whole clubhouse staring at them. He wondered if Phantom hadn't noticed—or if he genuinely didn't care anymore. "Hey, handsome." He nodded at his friend. "This is Tyson."

Phantom shook the offered hand. "Phantom."

"Nice to meet you." Tyson looked around, gaze catching on a group of dancing girls who were showing more skin than clothing. "Cool place, though."

"Aight bro, this the guy then?" A man came over, slinging an arm around Phantom's shoulders and giving Ezra a wide smirk. Ezra pegged him as about his own age—he recognized him from last time, the one Phantom didn't want to leave alone with Lola. "At least he's not some obvious fairy."

Ezra stared at the guy. He wanted to snap Excuse me? but swallowed it down. Pointless with guys like this. "Glad to have your approval."

"Didn't say that." The biker's eyes gleamed. "You'll only get that if you can outdrink me."

Clearly overcompensating for something. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I stopped trying to impress people with alcohol about ten years ago. But feel free to offer us a welcome drink." He couldn't help but throw in an exaggerated wink. "I could go for a beer."

"Same here," Tyson added smoothly.

A shadow flickered in the biker's eyes. His jaw tensed. Ezra braced himself for a snide remark, but instead, a forced smile crept across the man's face. "But of course. Gotta make sure that Phantom's little prince gets the royal treatment."

The man walked off, slamming his shoulder into Ezra's as he passed.

Phantom shot a concerned glance after his retreating brother.

"Not exactly a friend of yours?"

He sighed. "It's complicated. He's..." He pressed his lips together. Probably smart not to finish that sentence. "I think he genuinely tried to make it a warm welcome."

Ezra let out a derisive snort. "Sure, looked like it." He glanced around. Two seniors sat at the bar, watching them with thinly veiled disapproval. Over by the pool table, three men were gathered.

He recognized one of them as the president—he'd seen him at the hospital. Slicked-back black hair, dark goatie, likely of Mexican descent. Seemed like a decent guy. The kind who actually used his brain. Next to him stood a giant of a man, making the president look almost unimpressive by comparison.

The third man had shoulder-length, thinning dark brown hair and wore a patch that read "VP."

"Those the top dogs of your club?"

Phantom followed his gaze and nodded. "Yeah. The president, the vice president, and the Sergeant At Arms."

Ezra frowned. "What's that last one?"

"Uh, the guy who makes sure the rules are enforced. Carries out punishments, stuff like that. And if the club needs someone to start talking... he's usually the one they send in."

Carries out punishments. What the fuck. Ezra couldn't wrap his head around why anyone would voluntarily sign up for something so medieval. He was curious why Phantom had ever wanted to join a club like this, but figured this wasn't the time or place to ask.

"Sounds cozy," Tyson muttered.

Phantom's shoulders stiffened—like he too realized just how far apart their worlds were. "It's not like there's weekly public floggings or anything."

"They ever punish you?" Ezra asked. Because he sure as hell wasn't going to let a bunch of alpha males lay a hand on his friend.

Phantom shook his head. "No. You have to seriously screw up for that." He glanced over his shoulder at the man fetching their beers. "Esai got branded last year for drugging Raine and leaving him next to a woman so he'd think he'd cheated. That was his final warning. And Raine got punished too—for secretly dating someone from another club."

Ezra thought that was completely nuts. 

When Esai came back holding four beers clutched together, Ezra eyed his cup warily. "You didn't spike it this time, did you?"

The man looked genuinely offended. His eyes were a striking blue for a Latino. "What?"

"Phantom warned me about your drinks."

Esai shot Phantom a murderous glare, which he quickly redirected at Ezra. Apparently, that wasn't something Ezra was supposed to say. Subtlety had never been his strong suit. "What?" he said breezily. "Forewarned is forearmed."

Esai ignored him. "What did you tell them?" he growled through clenched teeth.

Phantom flushed pink. "I..."

Ezra figured he might just make things worse by butting in, but Phantom seemed completely at a loss. "I wanted to know how open-minded you were. Since I heard some of you are a little... outdated in your views. About men being with men and all that. So Phantom told me what you did to Raine."

"That wasn't because he was with a man. That was because he was screwing a Son. Our enemy. Nearly caused a club war, so yeah, I was well within my rights."

Phantom said nothing.

Ezra gave a polite smile, though he still didn't trust the guy an inch. "Well, good to know." He took a sip of beer. "So this is safe to drink, then."

"Totally safe." There was a spark in Esai's eyes that made Ezra hesitate. A grin tugged at his mouth. "For now, anyway."

Ezra frowned.

Phantom shot the man such a venomous look that even Ezra thought it might be overkill. Was he missing something...? It felt like the two Mayans were having a whole other conversation on some frequency Ezra couldn't hear.

He exchanged a glance with Tyson, who took the cue to break the tension. "Well, shall we play some pool? See if us nice boys can beat you tough guys at your own game."

For a moment, Ezra was grateful for the suggestion—until it hit him that Esai would be sticking around, and that odd, tense vibe would stick with him too.