“That sounds familiar.”
Jax nodded eagerly. “It’s just so…. Okay, so say you have a line, A, and you break that line into two separate lines, B and C, so that line B multiplied by phi is equal to line A—you with me?”
“I believe so.”
“Well, the remaining bit of the line, line C? If you multiply C by phi, then you will get the length of line B.”
“Oh. How unusual.”
“And you can keep doing it! And it appears everywhere in nature too, the ratio of the spirals in a snail shell and so on.” Jax beamed, pleased that Ari seemed to be following his mini lecture. “And when I say it’s everywhere, I mean it’s everywhere. It’s in music. Like, you can write music using it, sure, but it’s also just in there, you know? Like some pop songs, when you find that high point, that crescendo, and multiply the time marker by phi, you get the song’s total run time!”
Ari listened with his head cocked to the side and a small smile on his face.
“Am I rambling too much?” Jax asked. “I know not everyone finds math this fascinating.”
“No,” Ari said, wiping at Jax’s forehead. A line of shampoo suds that had been headed for Jax’s eyes fell to the shower floor, and Ari nudged him into the spray to rinse it off. “I like listening to you.”
Jax closed his eyes and let the water wash away the rest of the bubbles, grateful for the excuse to close his eyes. He didn’t know what had changed with Ari, what he’d seen in Jax in the past few hours that he hadn’t seen before, but something was different. The way he was treating Jax was different. Not that he’d treated Jax poorly before, but there was something to this newfound tenderness. It was dangerous and seductive.
A man could fall in love.
“You’d be the first,” Jax quipped after a too-long pause.
“I doubt it.” With a gentle hand on his waist, Ari pulled him out of the spray again. “Considering how busy the bar is every time you lure me there.”
He didn’t sound displeased about being tempted, and when Jax met his eyes, they held no trace of teasing.
“That’s different. That’s people paying me to sing what they want to hear.” Jax knew he was a lot to handle. His interests bounced from one extreme to the other, many of them only for a few days, and Ari wouldn’t have been the first to find that annoying.
“I can hardly blame them for that either.”
Ari was too much for Jax’s ego. He wanted to believe his sincerity, but it was a lot all at once, so he pressed a kiss to his chin. “Bed?” he suggested. “I’m beat.”
It was true, after all.
“Bed,” Ari agreed.
They lay down in a tangle of limbs and blankets and pillows. It should have been uncomfortable, Jax thought, except he was exhausted and couldn’t do much except close his eyes. Ari turned his head just enough that his cheek brushed Jax’s crown, and that was all Jax knew.
Chapter Eleven
A WEEKpassed in the blink of an eye, and the next followed suit and brought November with it. Ari regretted not seeing Jax as often as he might, but with Jax’s work schedule and Ari well past his original deadline, they often didn’t have time for more than a phone call or some text messages.
When he felt especially pathetic, he put away his music and went to the bar, where Jax’s wide smiles and unabashed love of good fun and pop music drew him out of his funk even before Jax was able to take a break to spend with him.
Sunday through Wednesday soon became his favorite nights of the week, since the bar closed early and he could claim Jax to himself for a few hours.
Unfortunately, by the time his weekly family dinner rolled around on Saturday, Ari had already decided he’d much rather spend his evening with Jax.
There was a logical response to that, of course. If he told his parents he was dating someone, surely they would want to meet him as well. Jax would be invited to dinner, or more likely lunch, since his working hours would prohibit him staying much past an evening meal. But Ari didn’t know if he was ready to share Jax.
Besides, his parents were… his parents. And Jax was Jax. He had no doubt that his mother had only suggested he try online dating so she’d have a natural opportunity to put forward her own candidate when it failed. He’d have to be careful about how he introduced them.
It was with this in mind that Ari parked in his parents’ driveway—behind an unfamiliar Audi—and let himself inside.
“Ari, is that you?” his mother called when he closed the door behind him.
Ari hated yelling through the house, so he took off his shoes and followed her voice. “Maman?”
