Jax turned to see where I was looking. He let out a low chuckle when he saw the women. "Don't worry about them. They're just jealous because you're a rock star's girlfriend."
Girlfriend? The word sent a jolt of excitement fluttering to my belly. Was that what he thought of me now? Even though it was intimidating that we had come so far, so fast, I could probably get used to the idea.
Jax grinned at me, giving me a quick wink.
I glanced over at the women staring at us again and felt a burst of pride, knowing that they all wanted to be in my position.
I sighed pleasantly. It seemed like everything was in its right place. Jax and I were going well, the band approved of our relationship, my employers still didn't know about us, and the budget was under control. And to top it off, I was a shoo-in for that bonus with a very real possibility for a promotion. It was as if nothing could go wrong.
The sunscreen's initial chill quickly faded, and with the sun beating down on us, I wanted something to cool me down. But it would've been silly to go jump in the water after applying all this sunscreen since it would just wash right off. Looking around, I spotted an ice cream stand across from the water slides. I'd suggested it earlier just to get the band off the scent of what was between Jax and me, but now it really did sound like a good idea. "Ooh I'd love some ice cream right now. Let's go get some."
Jax shook his head slightly. "How about some funnel cake instead?"
"No way, it's too hot for that. Come on, let's cool off with some ice cream."
He studied my face with discerning eyes and after a moment said, "Fine, let's go." He grabbed my hand and we headed over to the ice cream stand.
I leaned into Jax as we strolled past teenagers playing with water guns. "I'm so relieved we don't have to hide us being together anymore."
"Yeah, I'm relieved too," he said, his eyes darting around at the ice cream cones that people had in their hands.
I impatiently stepped to the back of the long line. People walked away from the counter with big swirled curlicues of vanilla and chocolate soft serve, making my mouth water more and more with each one I saw.
"I can't wait for mine—it's been ages since I've had some soft serve. I think I'm going to get the vanilla-chocolate swirl. How about you?"
"Vanilla," he answered immediately. "I want vanilla."
"That's surprising. I definitely would've pegged you for more a chocolate sort of guy."
He shifted on his feet and rubbed the back of his neck before stopping and flashing me a grin. "You should know by now that I'm full of surprises."
"It's true. And I like your surprises, they're sweet and thoughtful." I crossed my arms and stuck out my bottom lip. "It's stupid surprises like Connor yesterday that suck."
He brushed my damp hair behind my ear and looked me deeply in the eyes, comforting me with his warm gaze. "Forget about him, Riley. He's nothing. He's less than zero."
"I know, Jax. Thanks again." I stepped up on my tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "For everything."
We finally got to the front of the line and I ordered my ice cream. Jax paused for a brief second and then ordered a vanilla cone. When the server handed us our twisting towers of ice cream, Jax's face lit up.
As soon as we started walking away, I immediately started licking at mine, savoring its coldness and enjoying its sweet flavor. I couldn't help but notice that Jax was holding his cone in front of him and watching it intently.
"If you don't eat it soon, it's going to melt all over your hand," I teased him.
"I'm appreciating it," he said still staring at it. "It's not every day you get a chance to appreciate a perfectly shaped ice cream cone."
"Shouldn't you be appreciating it with your mouth instead of your eyes?"
He finally looked up and turned to me with soft eyes. "Ice cream's a lot like childhood. It goes by so fast that before you get a chance to appreciate it, it's gone forever. All that remains is dirty hands and fleeting memories of lost innocence."
I grinned, savoring the cold sweetness of the ice cream in my mouth. "I'm having a hard time imagining you as anything close to innocent."
"We were all kids once," Jax said quietly. He paused for a moment before he returned my smile with a little smirk and took a lick of his ice cream.
A cold trail of melted liquid crept down my hand, so I returned to enjoying my treat before it was all lost to a fleeting memory too.
We walked back to where the rest of the band was relaxing. Sky was still tanning on a lounge chair by the pool while Chewie and Kev ran around squirting each other with their water guns. I was amazed at how much energy Kev and Chewie still had to run around like little kids.
Chewie chased after Kev, who jumped over Sky reclining on a lounge chair. "What the hell?" Sky yelled. "Can't you two go play your games on the jungle-gym with the other kiddies?"
Kev stopped in front of Jax, and then Kev turned to face Sky. "Sorry, just trying to get away from the Abominable Chewman."
While Kev was standing there apologizing to Sky, Chewie took aim and fired away. Kev ducked. Chewie's watergun stream sailed over Kev's head and hit Jax's ice cream, knocking it off the cone and splattering it across his bare chest.
The look of childish innocence on Jax's face immediately vanished. His nostrils flared and his chest heaved as the melted ice cream dripped from his pecs to his abs.
Kev stood up, looked at the mess on Jax's chest, and his face scrunched up. "Whoa, Jax, sorry about that. Who would've thought Chewie's aim would be that good?"
"What the fuck, man?" Jax tossed the empty cone at Kev. "I just got that ice cream and you ruined it—you fucking ruined it."
"Jax!" I cried, but before I could stop him, he grunted and angrily shoved Kev.
Kev stumbled back a few steps. His arms came up to balance himself, but his foot hit the edge of the pool and he tumbled backwards into the water, sending up a splash in his wake.
My jaw dropped. Sky ripped off her sunglasses, and even Chewie looked shocked as they rushed over to help Kev. Sky shook her head and turned to Jax. "What's wrong with you? It's just some ice cream."
Kev pulled himself out of the pool, refusing anyone's help. "What a dickbag. Jeez."
Jax blinked his eyes repeatedly, as if awakening from a daze. "It's—fuck it, I need to get out of here." He turned and headed toward the exit, leaving me with my mouth hanging open in shock.
I felt compelled to apologize on behalf of Jax. "Sorry, Kev," I said, putting my hand on his wet shoulder and smiling apologetically. "Are you okay?"
"Thanks, I'm fine," he grunted, his pride still sore. As far as I could see, the only part of him that was hurt. "It's not your fault. I don't know what the hell got into that asshole."
"Has he ever done anything like this before?" I asked as Chewie handed Kev a towel.
Kev wrapped it around himself and Chewie shook his head. "No—I mean he's always been moody, but all of us got along pretty well."
Sky nodded in agreement. "This is the first time I've seen him this upset over something so stupid. I don't know what's gotten into him."
I sucked in a deep breath and pinched the bridge of my nose. I was deeply concerned about Jax and the way he acted. It just didn't make any sense that a guy like Jax would get so upset over something as trivial as spilled ice cream when we were having so much fun just a little while ago.
I decided to go after him. Whatever was on Jax's mind, maybe I could cheer him up, or at the very least, calm him down.
"You guys should enjoy the rest of the waterpark. I'll see if I can talk to Jax," I called over my shoulder as I headed out to look for Jax.
Chapter Twenty-Three
TALK
When I finally spotted him, he was walking fast through the parking lot, a couple hundred yards ahead of me. No matter how hard I picked up my pace, it seemed like he was always going faster. I saw him vanish into the bus when I was still only halfway through the huge lot.
When I finally
got to the triple-decker at the far edge of the parking lot, I wasted no time in heading for the stairs.
I tiptoed up to Jax’s room, then stood near the door, trying to figure out what was going on inside.
Silence greeted me.
I wondered if he was napping—or fuming. I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing, I thought as my hand lifted to knock.
Just as my knuckles were about to rap against the door, it opened, and Jax emerged. Still dressed in his waterpark clothes, he had a shirt and pants draped over one arm and a towel over the other.
"Jax—" I started.
"Not right now," he said, his voice gruff. "I need a shower."
I sniffed at the air and realized we both still smelled like chlorine. Before I could even answer him, he had already turned away and was walking down the stairs.
My brows furrowed. Well, that wasn’t great. With a sigh, I opened the door to Jax’s room and then gasped at what I saw inside. Torn sheets of paper lay all over the bed, and everything on his shelf had been knocked down onto the floor.
Whatever was wrong with Jax, I knew I couldn’t leave the room the way it was. I started picking up the pieces of paper and setting them in a box on the shelf. I grabbed his guitar, put it back where it belonged, and smoothed the sheets across the bed.
I sat on his bed, waiting for him to finish his shower and come back, hoping a little cool-down time was all he needed to be himself again. When the handle twisted and he pushed the door open, I looked up to see Jax step into the room. He was wearing a fresh set of jeans and a t-shirt. One of his eyes twitched as he saw that the room had been cleaned up.
I wanted to talk but I had no idea what to say. "Did you have a good shower?" I heard the words coming from my mouth, but I felt like I was far away.
"Yeah," Jax said, his face barely moving. "Not enough hot water. But close enough."
We sat in silence, each of us looking at the wall.
Outside the bus, faint cheery music from the water park played. My hands fidgeted on my knees. Jax stared toward the door, looking like he wished he could leave.
"So how are you feel—" I started.
Jax’s voice broke in. "Do you want to watch a movie?"
I turned my head toward him curiously. A movie? "I . . . sure. What movie?"
His hand had moved to a binder full of Blu-Rays before I’d even finished talking. He thumbed through the discs, then pulled one out. I leaned to see if I could read any text on its surface, but he popped it into the player before I could make anything out.
Without a word, he crawled into the bed and sat beside me. The disc played, and a logo appeared, followed by a flurry of black bird wings. Text popped onto the screen:
The Birds
Another Hitchcock movie? It seemed like Jax watched them a lot, maybe he saw them as the film equivalent of comfort food. I felt suddenly hopeful. If Jax wanted to watch something comforting, maybe he’d be willing to talk afterward.
After a few minutes, I had snuggled in against Jax. A woman in the movie was riding on a boat toward a harbor, when out of nowhere, a seagull swooped down and attacked her, making her head bleed. I winced at the gull’s bite—not just because it looked painful, but because the aggression coming out of nowhere reminded me of Jax shoving Kev into the water.
I looked at Jax who was staring at the screen, but his stony face gave away nothing. What was going on in his head? I couldn’t figure it out, and it was driving me a little crazy. Nothing had happened that was out of the ordinary, but he’d snapped at Kev as if Kev had actually meant to knock over his ice cream and then blew it way out of proportion.
My eyes flitted back to the screen nervously. My general feeling of anxiety intensified with every sharp swell of music and every seemingly ordinary dialogue line. Even a scene with a children’s birthday party seemed ominous—and then it happened. Like a flash, a flock of seagulls descended on the children, and the party guests all ran screaming into the house.
I jumped at the sudden attack and quickly felt embarrassed. If this was how I was feeling as the movie started, how was I going to sit through the whole thing?
"Hey, Jax?" I said quietly.
"What?" He sounded annoyed.
"Can we stop the movie for a minute?"
Without a word, he flicked a button on the remote control. Two actresses were suddenly paused on screen, gazing into the sky apprehensively. Jax kept looking straight ahead at the still frame.
I hesitated. He was clearly still in a bad mood, but I didn’t know how to stop it without finding out what was wrong.
"What happened out there?" I asked, trying to stay as neutral as possible.
A smile slid across his face, charming, wide and completely fake. "So I overreacted," he said, his voice a breezy brush-off. "He’ll do something to get me back later. Don’t worry about it."
He reached toward the remote again.
"When I was a kid," I said, fast enough to stop him from pressing the button, "My family had this cat, Gonzo."
He looked at me, puzzled.
"He was my best friend when I was little." I closed my eyes, remembering. "He’d sleep on my bed every day. But then, one day, I laid down in my bed and he bit me. Hard."
Jax tilted his head. "I don’t understand . . ."
"Gonzo kept doing it, more and more. My parents were furious. They yelled at him, tried shutting him away when he bit. Nothing worked. So they decided to put him to sleep."
"Oh." He averted his eyes and his mouth turned down. "I’m sorry."
"When we went to the vet, I was sobbing," I continued. "But the vet said Gonzo wasn’t biting because he’d turned mean. He had an infection, and we were hurting him whenever we tried to pet him."
Jax looked back to the movie screen and his glance fell to the remote. "Okay. So what happened?"
"We gave him some antibiotics, and he was as good as new."
He squinted at me and picked the remote back up. "I’m . . . glad the story had a happy ending?" he offered.
"I’m glad, too," I said, my voice stronger now. "When Gonzo bit me, we shouldn’t have asked why he was being mean. We should have asked what was wrong. It would have saved us all a lot of pain."
Jax stiffened, and his head turned toward me slowly. Looking straight into my eyes, he asked, "Why are you telling me this?"
I met his gaze. He’d helped me talk about Connor—now it was my turn to help Jax. "Because you weren’t acting like yourself earlier. And because I don’t want to wait for it to boil over again for us to talk about it."
"Don’t worry about it," he said. "It’s just something I need to deal with."
"What is?"
"It’s . . . not about the band, and it’s not about you."
"Then what is it about?"
His glance went back to his hands, which were fidgeting in his lap. I’d never seen him looking so nervous. "I’ve never talked to anyone about it," he said. "And I’m not starting today."
I couldn’t take that as an answer—if I pretended to let it go, I knew it would just gnaw at me the way Connor’s secrets had. "Jax, if we’re going to be together, I can’t deal with you hiding your feelings any time the going gets tough," I said, keeping my voice as gentle as I could. "I—I told you about Connor. I told you what that relationship did to me."
His body tensed. "And you think I’m just like him."
"No, I know you’re not," I said softly, reaching out a reassuring hand. "But you’re keeping secrets from me, and that hurts. Maybe if I’d never met Connor, it wouldn’t hurt so much. But I can’t help how I feel now."
"And I can’t help being the person I am," he said, folding his arms across his chest.
My vision blurred with tears, but I didn’t let them spill over. "Please, Jax?" I asked. "I just . . . I don’t want to have to go back to therapy. I don’t want my life to be all about secrets and lies."
"I’m not keeping secrets," he said brusquely. "I just don’t tell my whole life story to people I’v
e only just met."
I recoiled, and felt one of the tears I’d been trying to hold back roll down my face. "Fine," I said, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. "I guess that’s how it is."
"Shit," he said, looking suddenly ashamed. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that."
"You’re right. You shouldn’t have." I wiped the tear away with my sleeve.
"I just—I never do this kind of thing."
"What?"
He sighed and shrugged, shaking his head. "Talk about myself."
I clasped my hand around his and looked into his dark eyes. "Jax, tell me straight up. Do I mean anything to you? Or am I just a novel alternative to your regularly scheduled groupie programming?"
He closed his eyes. "You shouldn’t have to ask that. You mean a lot to me, Riley. More than you know."
Frustrated and confused, I blurted, "Then why can’t you talk about it? Don’t you trust me?"
"I trust you more than," he paused, then squeezed my hand, "more than anyone. And more than I should. It’s not that."
I felt myself crumpling inward. "What changed between us, Jax? I feel like you were open with me before and now you’re not."
His voice rose aggressively. "It’s got nothing to do with you! Why don’t you get that?"
"Then what’s it all about?" I asked, practically pleading. "Help me understand."
A tortured half-smile twisted his mouth. "Help you understand?" he asked, his words punctuated by a sad, staccato laugh. "Riley, you’re never going to be able to understand."
His condescending tone made my cheeks hot with anger. "Stop talking to me like I’m a child," I said sharply. "Dammit, Jax, stop pushing me away!"
His scarred eyebrow raised almost imperceptibly, and he took a deep breath. "Riley, what did you do for your fourteenth birthday?"
I tried to remember. Was this Jax’s way of giving me a story back in exchange for the one I’d told about Gonzo? "We went to Applebees," I said, then corrected myself. "No, wait. That was the year of the disastrous sleepover. Mina gave Chloe a haircut so bad she actually cried."
His eyes closed softly and he nodded. "For my fourteenth birthday I . . . woke up on a park bench," he said. "I’d been saving cans for days, hoping to have enough to get twenty, thirty, maybe even forty bucks from the recycling center. I wanted a real meal, at a real restaurant."