Afterward, Jax strolled loosely into the kitchen to find Hobbes at the table, drinking one of his health smoothies and looking at his phone. Tribby sat on top of the fridge and eyed Jax as he moved about the feeding room without approaching the cat dishes.
“Morning.”
Hobbes grunted. “Barely.”
“I work at a bar,” Jax reminded him for the umpteenth time. Jax wasn’t going to get up for one of Hobbes’s 6:00 a.m. jogs after rolling into bed at two.
“Most overqualified bartender in the country.”
Jax pretended the sound of the frying pan hitting the stovetop had drowned him out. It was a tossup, really, who was more upset by Jax’s current lack of PhD—his mom or Hobbes.
Jax made eggs and toast with tomatoes, slid into the seat opposite Hobbes, and ignored him as he made his way through a much-deserved breakfast. So he was surprised when Hobbes said, “Jesus, kid, I think you’re actually drooling.”
Startled, Jax looked up. “What?” He shoved another bite into his mouth.
“Video from last night.”
“Video?” Jax said dumbly. Why would anyone take video of him tending bar?
Hobbes shook his head. “Murph sent it.” He tipped his head toward Jax’s phone, which sat quietly on the counter where Jax had left it last night.
Phone retrieved, Jax found several missed messages in the group chat.
Murph: Hobbes! You missed your boy’s debut as musical accompaniment.
He’d linked to a YouTube video. The thumbnail preview titled itAri Darvish and Pianist Battle Onstage. Apprehensive, Jax clicked the link.
The video quality was shit, but damn, their performance was not. The recorder caught them both in the shot, and for the two minutes of the video, it was pretty damn obvious that Jax and Ari were in their own little world. Well, Jax was, at least. His eyes only left the piano keys to glance at Ari.
Hobbes wasn’t wrong about Jax’s obvious interest.
When the video ended, Hobbes said, “See? Drooling.”
“I was not drooling,” Jax snipped as he scrolled through the chat comments.
Naomi: It was certainly something. Too bad you couldn’t join us, Calvin.
Hobbes: I think I’m glad I didn’t if Jax was like this all night.
Hobbes: Only Jax could eye-fuck a stranger on stage and feel no shame.
Murph: Shame! The views are racking up.
Murph: Think of the business!! $$$
Murph: Jax, how much more beer do we need??
Jax snorted and, ignoring that his roommate was right across from him, typed into the chat.
Jax: Easily answered as soon as I figure out how to predict the likely number of new customers per 1000 views.
Jax: Also, there was no eye-fucking! Well… not on stage.
Naomi: Jacob Stirling Hall.
Hobbes: Gross.
Murph: you can do all the eye fucking you want, b’y, so long as it brings me customers.
