Shy was tall, dark and lanky.

Beck was tall, dark and stocky.

Snap was blond, shorter than both Shy and Beck, (taller than me), with an athletic build that was both powerful and lean. He had thick eyebrows darker than his hair and a blond beard that was dark under his jaws, light everywhere else, clipped short and groomed, mostly, but long at the chin.

His hair came down to his shoulders and he almost always wore it in a messy bun at the back, but if he kept it down, he slicked it back with something so it stayed out of his face.

He had amazing cheekbones, a beautiful lower lip, and gorgeous, strong white teeth that shone bright against skin that was always tan due to his ride being a bike.

All that was fantastic.

But for me with Snap it was the eyes.

His eyes reminded me of a husky dog’s eyes. If you looked closely enough (and until recently I hadn’t allowed myself to pay attention to the fact that I did…a lot), they weren’t the light blue that they seemed to be at a glance.

Most of the iris was almost like snow and the blue cast they had came from a rim of sky at the edge of the iris and the edge of the pupil, both that bled into the white.

I’d never seen eyes like Snapper’s.

You would think that snow would put you in a deep freeze but he’d never, not once, not even for an instant, given me anything cold.

He was all warm for me.

It was a hair down day for Everett “Snapper” Kavanaugh, slicked back, whatever he used making the light blond seem darker.

It was also an intent day, I could tell by the serious look on his face while he was listening to Tack speak.

He wasn’t going to invade my space because I’d kicked him out of my hospital room (God, that was so Snapper).

But he wasn’t waiting even for a phone call to learn how I was. He was getting a briefing on me. Everything. From how I looked to how I held myself to how I behaved to how I reacted to what they’d offered me (or, more accurately, what I’d been forced to accept).

You’re gonna be in my life and I’m gonna be in yours. Bank on it.

“Is that him?” Mom whispered from beside me, standing so close our arms brushed.

She knew everything. Everything about everything. Around the time I turned seventeen, she started the long process of morphing from just my mom, to my mom and sometimes friend, to my friend and sometimes mom, to my best friend who was also the precious being who had birthed me.

“That’s him,” I whispered back.

He nodded and I knew by the movements of his body he was going to disconnect, so I quickly moved out of the window, doing it watching and seeing his head turning my way.

Standing out of sight, thus losing sight of Snapper before he caught sight of me, I watched my mother wave at him.

“Mom!” I hissed.

“He’s really cute,” she said.

He was. He was really cute in a hot-guy, badass biker kind of way. Take off the leather cut, trim his hair, shave his beard, and he’d be the boy next door.

The boy next door you were itching to get in your bed and would sell your soul to earn the honor of having his ring on your finger.

To escape what was happening at the window, I turned so my shoulders were against the wall and looked down at the paper in my hand.

Elaine Kincaid, CEO of an advertising agency.

Hop had married a business lady.

Surprising and interesting.

And cool.

I stared at the address under it, focusing on it rather than the fact that Snap was right outside.

Suddenly, my eyes narrowed on it.

As they did, I recollected a conversation I’d had with Snap, one of many I shouldn’t have had when he was just supposed to be my contact with Chaos, sharing with him what I’d heard Beck say his brothers were up to when it came to antisocial activities, not to mention I was living with another guy.

How many properties? I’d asked, aghast at the intel about himself he’d shared over the course of our by then hour-long phone conversation.

Five, no…six. But, babe, it isn’t a big deal. All the brothers get a cut of Ride and both the store and garage do a huge turnover. It is what it is but the way I live my life, what am I gonna do with that kind of money? he’d answered.

I could think of a lot of things to do with that kind of money, I’d told him.

Yeah, well, I’m not big on shoes, he’d replied. So I buy houses.

I’d laughed.

I had to admit, I liked shoes.

What I didn’t admit was that I liked that Snapper had noticed.

He’d listened to me laughing for a while before he’d said, I can’t just sit on it. I got it, gotta make it work for me.

So I guess you buy six properties and let it work, I’d teased.

Yeah, he’d said with a smile in his voice. Comes time, I’ll be good. My woman will be good. Our kids wanna go to some expensive college, they’ll be good. They want big weddings, that’ll be good. We wanna take crazy huge family vacations, that’ll be good. Or if a shit storm hits, we’ll be covered.

I didn’t remember my reply to that, just that I’d turned the topic of conversation.

But I remembered how what he’d said made me feel.

I stared at the address on the paper.

Tack had said the place they’d put me in was Chaos.

But I knew it wasn’t just Chaos, as such.