“I can’t do that,” Ari corrected. “Music—not just writing it but performing live, especially my own music, for an audience—is cathartic for me. It helps me process things. It might seem trivial, but I need it.”
“That doesn’t sound trivial to me.” The squeeze of his hand and the light in his eyes said he understood. Ari wondered if Jax felt the same about singing… or math. “Have they been pushing you lately?”
Ari sighed. “Yes. They had me at home for a long time when I couldn’t tour. And when my father got sick, I was around even more to look after them. I think they hoped it might be the”—he smirked unhappily—“‘new normal.’ But I can’t go back to that. I… barely wrote the entire time.”
It was Jax’s turn to offer understanding affection. He looped Ari’s arm around his shoulder and rested his head on Ari’s. “They don’t want you to leave again.”
“They do not. And our visits have become… fractious.”
Jax snorted. “Big word.”
Ari hummed and buried his face in Jax’s hair. His ass was starting to hurt sitting on the floor, but he didn’t want to move yet.
On the other hand, while he couldn’t give up touring, spending four and a half days apart from Jax was a terrible idea. He would do whatever he could to make sure it didn’t happen again.
THE PROBLEMwith fishing, Jax reflected, was that if you came home without catching anything, you couldn’t be certain if that was because the fish just missed you, if the fish was wily and escaped you, or if there were no fish to begin with.
Ari had effectively dodged the conversation about family introductions, leaving Jax no further ahead.
Another long week followed. Jax had spent the past month using Ari as a distraction from the stresses of extra work hours and time spent reviewing this thesis project. But hiding from stress was difficult when Jax couldn’t stop worrying that, despite what he’d said, Ari wasn’t taking their relationship seriously.
Not that Jax denied himself Ari’s company. They slept together and then fell asleep andactuallyslept together several nights. He tried not to read anything into Ari’s actions, tried not to spend their time together watching. Ari was sweet and attentive as ever. On Wednesday they met up with Sam for lunch. At Jax’s insistence, they took her out. At Ari’s, they went to a trendy bistro where he picked up the tab.
As expected, Sam and Ari got on almost distressingly well. Sam teased Ari for wooing Jax with his violin. Ari cocked his head and said, “I see the family resemblance. And Jax did most of the wooing. With his piano.” When Sam laughed, announced that she liked him, and demanded to know everything about him, Ari obliged with a charming grin.
It was unfair of Ari to charm Jax’s sister so well when he wouldn’t even talk about his parents in the context of his relationship with Jax.
On Thursday, after a night spent in his own bed because Ari had an early meeting and couldn’t wait up for Jax to get home, Jax baked five dozen muffins. The only upside to his baking freak-out was that Hobbes didn’t show up to ask questions, though Jax did wonder where his friend had been lately. Then again, maybe he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth—Hobbes hadn’t had the chance to grill Jax about Sohrab’s blind-date bomb, and at this rate, Jax could hopefully put him off until the New Year when he left for Cambridge. Or at least until Jax got up the courage to ask Ari about it himself.
He packed up two dozen muffins for his sister—she wouldn’t say no to free food that Alice would eat—and brought another dozen to Ari so as to leave less incriminating evidence.
He spent the rest of the week planning and fretting about the date. Jax wanted everything to be perfect and tried not to think too much about why he was so desperate for the evening to be so romantic.
On Sunday Ari arrived at the bar at seven as requested and texted Jax that he was just outside.
Jax nervously checked the setup one last time and then hurried to unlock the door. Ari’s hair was tied back, and he was dressed—fuck—in those sinful black jeans and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Jax tried not to drool at the sight of those forearms, which looked just as lovely when pining Jax to the bed. Or the wall. Or the floor.
Ari smiled and stepped in close to kiss him hello. “Why are we meeting here when it’s closed?” he asked when he finally pulled away. “You’ve been very secretive.”
Jax grinned. “Maybe a little. But I wanted to cook up a surprise.” He stepped farther inside and waved toward the bar top, set for two. “I thought we could have dinner together in the place where we first met.”
Ari’s expression went soft, and he cleared his throat. “Technically, we first met in the break room.”
“Shut up,” Jax laughed. “We’re not eating there; it smells like fart. Besides, the bar is where we had our first real conversation and where you let me mix you drinks. Now come on.” He grabbed Ari’s hand, determined to make the night perfect.
At the bar Ari settled into a seat, and Jax pulled over some appetizers. He’d put his day off to good use, made the stuffed prosciutto-wrapped dates himself, and had more food waiting at the bar. Their entrees were in the kitchen so they could stay warm.
Jax poured them both half glasses of wine to sip. “I might not be chef at one of the best restaurants in town—”
“Jax.”
“—butI’m not without skills when it comes to making dinner and finding wine pairings.”
Ari bit into a date and made a noise of delight. Then he washed it down with a sip of wine—and made a face like he’d just bitten into a lemon.
Uh-oh. “Not a good wine pairing?” Jax asked, heart sinking.
Ari eventually swallowed his mouthful, then picked up the bottle and examined the label. “This is usually a good bottle, but….” He sniffed the neck, then winced and held it out for Jax.
