“You could move in with me.”
19
JAX
“Areyouready?”Tristanlaced their fingers together, his eyes full of fondness. He’d been beyond attentive, and Jax knew that some of it stemmed from guilt over everything that had happened; hopefully, he’d shed that with therapy, which they’d both be starting next week.
True to his word, Tristan had been helping with Jax’s treatment plan by making appointments. He’d worked his magic on several receptionists to get Jax in at a five-star orthopedist, and he’d also scheduled a massage at a place that specialized in chronic pain. When Jax had protested on the expense alone, Tristan had told him that since his money had been used to fuel Jax’s downfall, he wanted to use it to lift Jax up, and Jax hadn’t been able to argue with that.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Jax stated, trying not to sweat through his shirt.
He hadn’t returned to The Pointe since the confrontation with Eve and Derrick, and while Angelo had granted Jax the time off to heal, that was just a stopgap. Today’s meeting was about accommodating Jax’s disability, and while he knew that The Pointe would work with him, this was still a difficult road to travel.
Walking in, Jax was taken aback by how happy people were to see him. A bunch of the servers gathered around, asking about his health, and surprisingly, he wasn’t annoyed. Instead, he felt touched that they cared, answering all their questions until Dylan ran up, worry on his face.
“What’s the matter?” Jax didn’t think Dylan had the ability to be stressed, so this must be pretty bad.
“John’s upstairs,” he sighed, his cheeks puffing out. “In full effect.”
“Oh…” Jax bit his lip, looking at Tristan, whose eyes went wide. Why did The Pointe’s infamous owner have to show up now? Couldn’t he wait untilafterJax finished one of the most difficult meetings of his life?
“Is he in his office or Owen’s?” Tristan glanced up toward the second floor.
“Owen’s. Marci and Angelo are in there too.” Dylan raised his eyebrows. “That’s why I’m down here.”
“Great.” Jax didn’t know if they should go up there or hang out in the foyer, but Dylan jumped, listening to his headset.
“Uh, Marci says that John wants to meet you.” Dylan’s eyes flicked between them. “Both of you. Sorry, dudes.”
Jax breathed in deeply. “I’m not ready for this.”
“Don’t worry,” Tristan squeezed his hand, “I’ll be right there beside you.”
“Aww,” Dylan crooned. “Out of all the couples here, you guys are the cutest. By the way? Congrats on the cohabitation.”
Jax shouldn’t be surprised by how fast gossip had spread, but he’d officially left Finn and Ollie’s townhouse just a few days ago. Tristan had stopped by to get a bunch of Jax’s things while he’d finished recovering, and once he was back on his feet, the rest of his furniture had suddenly appeared.
Apparently, Tristan had rented a van, and Finn had helped him load it up. Jax’s only task had been to point out where he’d wanted his desk and standing chair, and Tristan had eagerly cleared more than enough space for him, making it feel like his home too.
“Thank you,” Tristan replied for Jax, lightly tugging him up the stairs, and as he opened the door at the top, an obnoxious, booming voice filled the hallway.
“I can’t believe those bastards!”
Pushing open Owen’s door, they quietly entered the office, and Jax immediately had to school his expression, because John was both better and worse than he’d expected. Between the green suit, the alligator boots, and the jewelry, there was no safe place for Jax to rest his eyes. He’d met a lot of strange people in the scene, but not anyone like John.
“We’ve been trying to get on top of Evergreen for the last sevenyears! I thought we’d finally one-upped them with the glass room!” Fishing through his jacket, John pulled out a few pieces of paper, slapping them down on the table with a hand that had far too many rings on it. “But they’re changing their food now, doingseasonal menus.” He pitched his voice higher, using air quotes for the last two words.
That had Jax perking up, but John distracted him.
“They need a fucking fire, huh?” He elbowed Owen, who looked at John as if he were the drunk uncle at a holiday dinner, and suddenly John realized that Jax and Tristan were in the room, zeroing in on them. “And who the fuck is this? You got more metal than head, kid.”
Used to people commenting on his piercings, Jax grinned, quipping back. “And you look like you robbed an alligator.”
The room went quiet, and John blinked before letting out a belly laugh.
“Get a load of this fucking kid.” He gestured at Jax. “Aren’t you the chef that got screwed over?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I was,” Jax still felt a little embarrassed about the entire thing and had been chiding himself for not coming forward sooner.
