Afra and Ben did eventually arrive and took most of the brunt of Ari’s parents’ meddling. Ari wanted to jump to their defense, but he’d exhausted himself deflecting them earlier. By the time the leftover khoresh bademjan was packed into Tupperware for Ari to bring home and the last of thetahdighad been eaten, he was more than ready for a change of scenery.
But if he went back to his apartment, he’d only stew. There was no way he’d get any composing done in this mental state. He’d only end up dwelling on the failure of the past few months.
“You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here,” he muttered to himself as he slid behind the wheel.
And suddenly he knew exactly where he wanted to go.
Chapter Three
THE VIDEOreally must have been a hit, because there was already a lineup to get in the door when Jax got to the Rock at seven thirty. He parked his bike, cut the engine, slung his body off of it, and tucked his helmet under his arm.
“Hey, Bruce,” he greeted the bouncer, bumping fists with him.
“Hall.” Bruce shook his head. “You know you’re supposed to go in the back.”
“Bruce. Buddy.” Jax nodded at his bike. “Look where I’m parked. To get to the back I’d have to walk through the alley.”
Bruce gave him an unimpressed look, keeping one eye on the crowd. “Aren’t you the one who’s always giving Murph a hard time about the spiders?”
Okay, so the man had a point, but— “Aw, come on. You’re not really going to make me walk around, are you? These are new boots!”
Bruce looked, which was when Jax knew he had him. They were nice boots. And with the crowd lined up tonight—looked like about 70 percent women—Bruce’s cut of the tip jar was probably looking pretty good. He rolled his eyes and moved over to let Jax pass—not that he wouldn’t have anyway. He just liked to give Jax a hard time.
But before Jax walked in, something caught his eye, something that didn’t quite fit—a shock of curly dark hair, broad shoulders with posture a little too good for casual standing in line to get into a bar. And a peacoat that looked like it cost more than Jax’s rent.
Ari.
Jax clapped Bruce on the shoulder. “Just one sec.”
It only took him a few seconds to squeeze through the crowd. Technically speaking it wasn’t actually all that crowded, but a year of restricted public gatherings would change your perspective. When he closed his hand around Ari’s forearm, the man jumped.
“Sorry,” Jax said. “Ari. Hey. Jax Hall, from last night.”
Ari looked at him as though he might have lost his mind, which—yeah, okay, maybe last night hadn’t been that forgettable. Though it could, in his opinion, have been a lot more memorable. Or memorable for more fun reasons. “Hello.”
“Hey,” Jax repeated, then immediately felt stupid. “Look, what’re you doing waiting here? Come on.” He let go of Ari’s arm, but he didn’t need to check if the man was following him. Jax had a way of getting people to do what he wanted.
“He’s with me,” he told Bruce as he ushered Ari inside.
The lineup suggested the bar was going to be busy tonight, and inside, everyone was busy preparing for it. The doors would open any moment, and Murph and Naomi were bustling behind the counter, so Jax led the way across the space.
Ari took the seat at the end of the bar, the least desirable one, as it was outside the main traffic route.
Before he left to start slinging drinks, Jax leaned in, his mouth close to Ari’s ear—the better to be heard, of course, even though no one was playing anything yet. “What can I get you?”
Ari swallowed. “Ah, why don’t you pick for me?”
Oh, what a delightful offer. Jax licked his lips. “Any allergies or dislikes I should avoid?”
“No.”
“Good.” After a quick deliberation, Jax settled on the most obvious choice. He slipped away and quickly mixed the necessary ingredients.
A few minutes later, he slid a blood-orange drink across the bar top.
“What is it?”
“Coconut rum, orange liqueur, lime juice, grenadine, 7-Up, lemon and lime, with a splash of Irish cream.”
