String Theory

by Ashlyn Kane

  “But I know someone who does.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  THE DAY he saw his mother off at the airport, Jax went home and surveyed his realm with a critical eye.

  It wasn’t glamorous.

  The Boston rental market being what it was, Jax’s apartment consisted of a single room large enough for a bed, a desk, a couch, and a kitchenette—no baking in his future—with a bathroom the size of his closet in Hobbes’s place. The hardwood floors were scuffed and uneven, and the double-hung windows were drafty and yet somehow still difficult to pry open. He definitely didn’t have room for his keyboard. But he had a place for his laptop and a place to sleep, so he couldn’t complain. It was only temporary.

  He repeated that to himself as he dragged his suitcase out from under the bed and hung his clothes in the closet. He was an adult now. Adults didn’t live out of suitcases for months at a time.

  Adults did, however, consider hanging an extra blanket in front of a window because the window was drafty. Fuck Boston winters. Why couldn’t Jax have decided to defend in summer or fall?

  In any case, now that his mother was gone, he didn’t have an excuse to eat out all the time, so he needed something to fill his cupboards and the mini fridge. There was a corner store a handful of blocks away. He could get the basics there and worry about fancier things when he was settled.

  It wasn’t currently snowing, which was as good as he could hope for in terms of weather, so he put his gear on and went outside.

  His neighborhood wasn’t far from campus, in Fenway-Kenmore. There were maybe too many bars per capita in the neighborhood, but maybe that was a good thing. They could be home away from home when Jax got nostalgic for the Rock. One of them probably even had decent live music. He was within walking distance of a Target, or at least he would’ve been if it weren’t twenty below.

  He took his time at the store, not eager to go back out in the cold. Bread, milk, eggs, peanut butter, some instant ramen that he added to his basket with a wry twist of a smile. He hardly felt like a college student anymore. Rice, deli meat, carrots, onions, tea. That was probably all he could carry without risking the bags breaking and spilling his groceries all over the icy sidewalk, so he paid, tucked the ends of his scarf back inside his coat, and went home.

  At just past four, the sky was already a deep, bruised blue. Soon it would be fully dark and Jax would be alone in his sad apartment, eating instant noodles.

  But it was fine. It was necessary. In a few months, he could go back to London and be with Sam and George and Alice and Hobbes…. At least he’d made up with his mother.

  He wondered how Ari was faring with his.

  It had been a month since their disastrous dinner, and Jax felt no closer to getting past it. What if he’d taken his pill that morning? What if he’d called off the dinner when he realized he hadn’t? What if he’d taken Ari’s warnings more seriously? What if they’d waited longer for Jax to meet them and they’d met on more neutral territory, like a restaurant, somewhere they’d have had to stay civil?

  There was no excuse for how Nasreen treated him. He wasn’t denying that. But Jax could have put up with it for Ari, if Ari hadn’t left him high and dry to deal with it.

  If Jax’s own mistakes hadn’t made him overreact to her petty insults and lash out to hurt her and Ari in turn.

  If they were still together, Jax would be… what? Hurrying home to do the same thing he was doing now, probably, except with the promise of a phone call with Ari to keep him warm.

  Thinking of that led to remembering the strange moment he felt when the plane touched down in Boston, when he turned his phone on to find multiple missed calls from Ari. But he hadn’t left a message, and he hadn’t texted…. Jax had concluded that it must not have been important. That had been days ago, and Jax hadn’t heard anything since.

  A car slushed past down the street, kicking dirty snow onto the sidewalk. Jax grimaced and shifted to walk closer to the buildings. Next time he decided to get a PhD, he was applying to the University of Hawaii.

  The wind kicked up when he rounded the final corner back to his building, and he grimaced and buried his face deeper into his scarf. Definitely Hawaii. Maybe even Australia. Except everything killed you in Australia. That was no good.

  He was deliberating the relative merits of New Zealand when he came within a block of his apartment… and froze.

  There was a familiar figure standing on the step, flyaway hair stuffed under a knitted hat, one hand pressed to the side of his head.

  Somewhere in the depths of Jax’s multiple winter layers, his phone rang.

  He dropped one of the grocery bags.

  The sound of a full aluminum can hitting the pavement must have reached Ari, because he looked over, his cheeks red from the wind, the color just visible in the light from the streetlamp.

  It probably wasn’t cold enough that Jax had started hallucinating. Numbly, he bent to pick up his grocery bag and walked the rest of the way to the door.

  Ari still had his phone to his ear, but when Jax grew close enough that he could hear the phone ringing, he blinked and pulled it away.

  What the hell did Jax even say? What are you doing here seemed like the obvious choice, but it was also kind of confrontational. Jax didn’t want to fight. The sight of Ari filled him with a bone-deep longing. He just wanted to erase the past month from his life and go back to how things were.

  “I had to see you,” Ari said before Jax could ask the question. “I’m sorry, I know it’s… creepy.”

  Laughter bubbled out of Jax in a sharp bark. “Maybe a little. But I don’t mind.”

  Ari smiled slightly. “Good.” His eyes flicked about as he attempted to take in all of Jax. Jax was doing the same. He wanted to take in every inch of him too.

  “We should go inside,” Jax finally managed, and he unlocked his door and brought Ari upstairs.

  As Jax shoved some of his groceries away—he didn’t want anything to go bad in case he got distracted—Ari looked around the apartment. Jax bit his lip against defending his choice. Ari knew how expensive Boston was, and he could probably guess how short-term Jax’s needs were.

  Jax put the milk and eggs in the fridge and shut it. The last of the groceries. He took a deep breath and stepped closer to Ari.

  “So—”

  “I’m sorry,” Ari blurted. He flushed slightly and looked away. “There is a lot I wanted to tell you, but that was at the top of the list. I’m sorry. You were right, I was useless at dinner with my parents. I shouldn’t have just sat there.”

  Jax sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, well. I was also an ass. I should have believed you about how intense it would be. Also, being an ass just to prove a point wasn’t very productive. I forgot my pill that morning.”

  Ari’s expression of dawning realization made him feel worse. “You know I would have understood if you’d wanted to cancel.”

  “I know.” Jax huffed out a shaky breath. “Only I didn’t want your parents to think I was a flake. Ironic, I know.”

  “A little,” Ari admitted. “Though somehow you’ve won over my mother. Not that I care, because I don’t need her permission to date anyone, but she’s decided she likes you.”

  What on earth could Jax say to that? His mouth dropped open and he stared at Ari, flabbergasted. “What?”

  “Did you really call her a dick?”

  “Oh my God, she told you that?” He was going to die of mortification.

  “Yes. She apparently respects you for it.”

  Who knew giving zero fucks could convince Nasreen Darvish to give him a second chance?

  Ari waited for him to say something else. Jax licked his lips. “So did you come all the way here to apologize?”

  “No.” Ari shook his head and took a step closer. When Jax didn’t back away, Ari took his hands. “I came here to tell you that I love you.”

  Jax’s breath hitched. After all this time, had he really not gotten it so wr
ong after all? Was he really getting a second chance?

  Ari wasn’t finished speaking. “And I want to be with you, and if you’re willing to try, I—”

  “Yes,” Jax rasped before Ari got any further into what Jax was recognizing as anxious babble. “I mean, we totally have to talk stuff out and figure out how to avoid something like that dinner ever happening again.” That meant no sparks from Ari and no gasoline from Jax. Ari nodded. “But I’ve missed you.”

  Ari stepped closer. Jax inched forward too.

  “How much?” Ari asked.

  “Huh?”

  “How much did you miss me?”

  “Enough to Instagram stalk you.”

  Ari was closer still. “Yeah?”

  “Enough to sing stupid breakup songs.”

  “Angry ones at the bar?” Ari’s face was within touching distance now.

  Jax nodded. “Enough to leave London a few days earlier than planned.”

  “I tried calling you the day you left. I wanted to see you. To tell you how much I love you.”

  Jax launched himself into Ari’s arms.

  His mouth was as warm and giving as always, as Ari eased Jax’s lips apart and slid their tongues together. Every press, slide, and lick seemed to say I’m sorry, and forgive me, and let’s try again. Jax whimpered and tried to reply me too and me too and yes and yes and yes.

  Ari slipped his arms around Jax’s waist and held him close while Jax tangled his fingers in Ari’s hair.

  As they pulled apart, panting into the short space between their lips, Jax breathed, “I love you too. I love you, of course I—fuck, Ari, you wrote me a whole fucking album.”

  Ari stilled in his arms, his shoulders at attention, and pulled back enough to see Jax’s face. Whatever he found in Jax’s eyes apparently reassured him, as his shoulders stood down. “Ah. I had wondered if you noticed.”

  “Not until I heard ‘Alice’ at your place. Because I’m an idiot and didn’t even think about it before. But I looked up the track listings on your Instagram.”

  “Oh, have they posted that?” Ari asked, sounding distracted. He seemed more interested in rubbing his thumb over Jax’s cheekbone.

  “Yes.” Jax leaned into the touch. “Did you really write a song about the first time we slept together?”

  Ari froze once again and flushed bright red. “Um.”

  “Ari!” Jax choked on a laugh.

  “You are very inspiring?” he offered weakly.

  “Oh my God. Please tell me not everyone is going to know.”

  “It doesn’t have lyrics,” Ari offered.

  Jax hummed, relieved. Not that he wasn’t flattered, but his mom was going to buy this album. “But it is an ode to my perfect body?”

  Ari’s face softened. “More like an ode to how wonderful you are in all ways.”

  Jax laughed. He hoped Ari wasn’t offended, but he couldn’t accept that kind of compliment just then. “Right. Or an ode to how much you love my ass.”

  The hand on the small of Jax’s back dipped slightly, and Ari brushed his fingers along the top of Jax’s ass. “Well, it is a rather nice one.”

  “You know it,” Jax murmured and kissed him again. Everything else could wait.

  MUCH LATER, curled safely under every blanket in the terrible apartment, Jax said, “How long do I get to keep you here, anyway?”

  Ari had been toying absently with the hair at Jax’s nape—he needed a cut—but at the question he froze, feeling caught. Which was silly, because he’d already admitted to getting on a plane with only a slim hope that Jax might forgive him. And grand romantic gestures weren’t in his makeup. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so impulsive. “Ah, well….”

  Jax looked up, eyes shadowed in the dim orange glow of the streetlight. He narrowed them and pressed his hand against Ari’s chest. “What?”

  “I booked a one-way ticket,” Ari admitted, his ears burning. “It was a bit… last-minute.”

  He didn’t regret it when Jax smiled. “That’s… sweet, actually. Although I do foresee one problem.”

  Still pleasantly postorgasmic and basking in Jax’s attention, Ari had a difficult time conceiving of any such thing. “Hmm?”

  Jax half sat up and gestured around him. “We’re going to drive each other nuts if we’re stuck hanging out here together all the time.”

  Ah. “Yes, I see your point.”

  “Also—and please don’t take this the wrong way—”

  “It’s far too soon for us to live together, even short-term,” Ari finished for him.

  “Especially after….”

  “Yes.” Neither of them was particularly suited to a slow relationship progression, but they could at least pretend. “Also, there’s no room for a piano in here.”

  Jax snorted and flopped back down next to him. “You noticed that, huh?” He turned onto his side. “Besides, I do actually have work to do prior to my defense. So, what’s the plan? Are you going to fly back, or….”

  “I’ll have to eventually.” He was done with the album, but his mother was still recovering from surgery, and there would be tour details to work on. When Jax’s smile faded, he added, “But….”

  “But?” Jax asked hopefully.

  Ari kissed him quickly. “But I’m certain there’s another short-term rental available somewhere in the city. Perhaps closer to the conservatory. I’m sure I could get access to a practice room in exchange for a few guest lectures.”

  “Yeah?” Jax shifted closer, until Ari had no choice but to roll onto his back. Jax moved with him, half lying on his chest.

  Ari traced a thumb over Jax’s lips. “Yes.”

  Jax sighed and leaned his face into Ari’s palm. “I can’t believe it took us this long to make up. We could’ve had another whole month together.” He shook his head. “And you said your mom was the one who convinced you to come?”

  Ari felt a pang. There was so much they had to talk about. “Well, actually, it’s a funny story.”

  “Uh-oh, serious talk.” Jax kissed his thumb and then sat up and gathered the sheets in his lap. His skin immediately pebbled into goose bumps, and he grimaced and reached over the side of the bed for his sweatshirt. He pulled it on, then grabbed Ari’s too. “Maybe we should move to the couch.”

  “I’ll make tea,” Ari agreed.

  They settled on the sofa, which was a hideous worn brown velvet, though free at least of any stains and surprisingly comfortable. Jax spread one of the blankets over their laps, and they sat facing each other, their legs entwined.

  “All right,” Jax said, tucking his feet under Ari’s leg and cupping his mug under his chin. “Start at the beginning.”

  “Would that be the furious fight with my mother where I blamed her for my own spinelessness, the phone call you took at the grocery store that I somehow thought meant you were seeing someone else already, or the other parental bombshell—”

  “Whoa, I can see I should have gotten a bottle of something stronger than milk at the corner store.”

  Ari acknowledged that with a tilt of his head and sipped his tea. “Well, the fight was self-explanatory. The phone call… why do you call your mother Christine?”

  “’Cause it’s her name?” Jax said wryly. “Wait, you thought I was dating my mom?”

  “In my defense, I’d never seen her, and you never mentioned her name. And who calls their mom by their first name?”

  Jax smirked over the rim of his mug. “Got in the habit in undergrad. Every time I went to see my mom on campus, I’d get these looks if I asked if people had seen Professor Hall. She mostly teaches grad students, so everyone thought I was about to get eaten. One day someone asked if I was there to see Christine and I realized that was what her students called her. What a revelation. Moms have first names? So every time I was on campus, I’d call her that. She thought it was funny.”

  If she was anything like Jax, Ari supposed she would. “I should have talked to you before that, but afterward…
.”

  “You thought I got over you that quickly?” Jax seemed a little hurt, but not as much as Ari had expected.

  Ari lifted a shoulder sheepishly. “You did mention that you fall in love at the drop of a hat.”

  Jax accepted this with a wobbly nod. “That’s fair.” He dropped his gaze to his mug, then lifted it again and smiled slightly. “Though maybe not anymore.”

  Ari went warm all the way through, despite the draft. “Perhaps just one more time.”

  Jax nudged his thigh. “Yeah. That sounds nice.” He put his tea on the coffee table. “You mentioned another parental bombshell? Dare I ask?”

  Well, that was a mood-killer. “I’ll tell you.” Ari put down his tea as well and held his hands out for Jax. “But first you have to come here.”

  His mother’s surgery had gone according to plan, and she was recovering well, but that didn’t mean reality wasn’t easier to face with Jax’s weight a solid, warm comfort against his chest.

  GETTING BACK into the swing of going to school—even if he didn’t technically have classes—took some getting used to. Ari’s presence didn’t help. Although he’d rented a hotel room while he looked for a longer-term solution, it had been so long since Jax dated someone and went to school at the same time that it didn’t feel like going back to school so much as starting a whole new chapter.

  Thank God for ADHD meds, because he already felt like he was writing three different parts of the same book all at once without knowing how anything ended.

  Since Ari couldn’t stay in Boston past January, Jax found a new drive to work hard and get his defense scheduled as early as possible. Unfortunately MIT was like every other college around—a big, slow bureaucracy with lots of paperwork to fill out. Jax hated forms.

  But the potential of leaving Boston behind with Ari was an excellent carrot, so when the department administration asked him to come down to get some things taken care of, Jax didn’t argue. Instead he put on his big-boy pants—actual jeans instead of sweats—and headed down to the college.

  The woman heading up the mathematics department’s admin was an unfamiliar face, and she seemed immune to Jax’s charm. Then again, he probably wasn’t the only good-looking young person trying to flirt his way through this maze of forms and applications.