The Ruby Riot Series: Box Set Part 38

Finally, Tegan turns her big brown eyes to mine. "Maybe."

"Maybe," I repeat. Tegan says something else, but I don't hear. We've spoken about trying to make a go of things; solidify what we have before my world changes permanently. Now this. "Right."

I grab a towel from the shelf above the bath and stand.

Tegan looks up, mouth parting. "What's wrong?"

I yank the towel around my waist and step out of the bath. "What the h.e.l.l do you think is wrong?"

"I haven't made a final decision, Jax, I -"

"But you're thinking about going, aren't you? What about us?"

"That's why I haven't made the final decision!"

Water drips to the floor, down my legs as the jealous disappointment runs through my body. "Why now?"

"Not now. Soon. In a few weeks."

"I don't f.u.c.king believe this!" I storm out of the bathroom and run my fingers through my damp fringe.

"Jax!"

By the time she appears, covered in a towel and bubbles sliding down her legs, I'm half dressed, t-s.h.i.+rt in hand. Tegan approaches and touches my face. "Don't be like this."

"I can't believe you'd decide something as big without talking to me."

"I haven't decided anything! I am talking to you!"

"Sounds like the decision is made." I pull my t-s.h.i.+rt on. "Thanks a lot."

Tegan sinks onto the bed, where the sheets remain scrunched from our afternoon wrapped in each other. "Wow."

"I told you I wanted us! Don't you want this?"

"Of course I do but I have an opportunity here!"

"You never said you were interested in a career in PR! Not once!"

"I spend my life on social media, blogging, writing, this is just an extension of that."

"A week ago, you said this was temporary! You can't go!"

I stiffen as her eyes flash with a look I recognise, the memory of a similar argument pus.h.i.+ng in, but this is different. This would be permanent.

"I can't go?" she says, voice ice-cold.

"I don't want you to! This would be over."

"Oh, really? Thanks!"

"No, you said yourself you don't do long-distance relations.h.i.+ps." I sit in the chair opposite and shove my feet into my combat boots. "By leaving, you're telling us this is over."

"I am not! Maybe with you, I'm willing to try!"

Standing again, I grab my phone. "Willing to try? Wow, thanks."

"Where are you going?"

"Out!"

"Jax! Don't be stupid. Let's talk about this."

"Later. I have to go. Rehearsing this afternoon."

"Don't expect me to come running after you!" she retorts. "You're behaving like a spoilt kid!" I grunt in response, she's probably right, but I don't care. "Oh, right. So I expect you're going to get drunk now? Your solution to everything!"

"So what if I am?"

Leaving a shocked Tegan half-naked on my bed, I walk away. Here I am, expecting a chance at a future from me and Tegan coming back together, and she doesn't give a c.r.a.p.

40.

TEGAN.

I cannot believe Jax is behaving like a spoilt toddler. Normal people have rational conversations; they discuss problems, instead of walking away to sulk. Or in Jax's case, drink. Is he really so lost in his own importance that the minute something in his life doesn't go the way he wants he pulls a stunt like this? Talk about extreme. Jesus.

I text him a couple of hours after his dummy spit in the hope he'll lay off getting wasted until after he plays tonight. He doesn't respond straightaway; and when he does, it's via a terse text. p.i.s.sed off, I pack my gear and head from the hotel back to Bryn's. Life with this man is one huge rollercoaster ride. We fall from the new heights we're exploring, where n.o.body can touch us, back into uncontrolled emotions of a harsher kind.

An apologetic Jax calls me at work the next day and, in his usual style, he arrives five minutes later carrying lunch. His arrival causes a hormonal meltdown in the office. Since I've worked here, actor and musician clients come in and out of the building, but none has the effect of Jax Lewis.

The tall guy with his confident persona, oozing a s.e.xuality that pulls the girls - and at least one guy - into his wake, approaches me. I'm used to seeing Jax in his natural environment, but here he's an exotic creature on display. Judging by the expression on Claire's face, he'll be eaten alive if he stands still too long.

I'm with Julian, running through yesterday's website traffic figures. He's the design guru, and does an amazing job of putting my ideas into reality. Give the man a rough concept and he has a one of a kind design ready in hours. When Jax approaches me, he ignores Julian.

Jax's fringe falls into his eyes, hiding his thoughts from me, as he pa.s.ses a small plastic bag. "Brought you a sandwich." His voice is stiff, as cold as when he left yesterday.

"Thanks." I attempt to capture a smile from him but none comes, and he barely glances at me.

"Anywhere we can talk?" he asks.

"Conference room is free," suggests Julian.

Jax fixes Julian with a disinterested look and runs his tongue along his teeth. "Thanks."

"Jax, this is Julian."

Julian holds his hand out and Jax ignores him, stepping in the direction Julian indicated. With an apologetic look to my colleague, I follow.

"That was rude, Jax." I set the paper bag on the large table and he sits on the edge, placing his feet on one of the expensive seats.

"What was?"

"I introduced you."

"Oh. Yeah. Is that the Julian?" He stares out of the window, arms crossed.

I sigh and sit in the chair next to the one he has his feet on. "Yes. Did you come to talk to me about your childish performance yesterday?"

"Are you going?" he asks, continuing to look at the London buildings.

"I haven't decided."

A muscle in his cheek twitches. "You might go to the States?"

"Yes."

Jax looks around and he doesn't need to say anything else. I've been in this situation before. Different circ.u.mstances, but the same expression. The warmth in his eyes has gone and he's buried his emotions behind them.

"I don't think I can do this," he says.

I swallow the rising hurt. "This?"

"Us. You're right, long-distance relations.h.i.+ps won't work. If you go, we're over."

The hurt is shoved aside by indignation. "If I go, this is over? You mean if I stay and do what you want, it won't be?"

"No, I mean if you go, this is over."

I glare at him, annoyance gathering. "Wow. I guess I mean a lot to you."

"I'm being realistic."

"So what was all the bulls.h.i.+t about loving me? Making a go of this relations.h.i.+p?"

"That was before you chose to move to a different country."

"What? If we stayed together, you'd be in different countries to me some of the time!"

"I know, but I have to, you can -"

"What? Choose what to do with my life based around yours." He doesn't respond. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. I'll make a lot of money soon. My girl won't need to work."

"OhmiG.o.d!" I stand. "Your girl? If you want somebody who's happy to do nothing apart from hang onto your arm and simper at the world dressed in expensive clothes, you're right. This won't work."

"You don't want that?"

I stare. Dumbfounded. "I don't know if you've noticed, Jax, but I tend to look after myself, and do what the h.e.l.l I want."

"Yeah, I like that about you."

I rub my head at his contradiction. "Then you know if I choose to do this, I will, whether you like it or not!"

"You don't care about our relations.h.i.+p?"

"Do you?"

"Yeah. I'd hang around for you."

"That's c.r.a.p and you know it. If Jem walked in now and said, 'Hey, we all need to move to Outer Mongolia for the band', you'd be packed and on the plane by the end of the day."

"That's different."

I've spent the last few days turning over the alternatives in my head, telling myself I could make this work one way or another because there's something unique between Jax and me. Instead, he's being a d.i.c.khead and blasting his self-importance and immaturity at me.

"Let me get this straight, you're saying if I leave the UK that this is over," I say.

"Pretty much."

Jax's flat tone, and refusal to engage beyond words emphasises the decision is already made. If he's expecting me to break down and beg him to stay with me, Jax will be disappointed.

"Right. Sure. Well, that helps with my decision." I stand and pick up the sandwich that will stick in my throat if I attempt to eat, and swallow down the b.l.o.o.d.y annoying lump.

For the first time since he entered the room, Jax's expression changes. He stares and I stare back, holding his gaze and taking on my own neutral expression. He doesn't mean this. Are we back to games?

"This is all too hard, Jax. Isn't it?"

This is the moment we could lay all our cards on the table; but I hold mine close to my chest, even tighter because of his att.i.tude today. The distance grows and he pushes hands deep into his jackets pockets. For a minute, we don't speak, and I fight the surging hurt ready to pour out in harsh words.

"Okay," he says.

I walk to the door, heart thumping in my ears as I hold together the pieces falling apart, numbed by the fact Jax can easily smash everything. He won't compromise, why should I? Yanking the door open, I step to one side. "Good luck with the rest of the tour."

Jax continues to stare in disbelief. He blinks several times and approaches. His scent triggers memories of the other night when we said we'd take on the world together. But the inevitable, the world pulling us apart, has happened. I hold my breath and stare at the floor in case he tries to kiss me. Jax knows this is one way I will always yield to him; I can control my thoughts, but never my body.

Jax doesn't speak. I watch in shock as he leaves. Done.

I gently close the door and lean against the smooth wood, staring into s.p.a.ce through blurring eyes.