10. Chapter 10
TRISTAN
Since you wanted to see my back.
Tristan squinted at his phone, quickly grabbing his glasses from the nightstand and waiting for the attached picture to come into focus. When it finally did, his eyes widened as his cock rose.
Underneath those seven words was a scandalous picture of Jax’s back that ended below his ass, showing off the dark, geometric pattern that fanned across his shoulder blades and down his spine.
Tristan enlarged the photo, looking at the intricacy of the ink, the way the lines merged. Despite having good intentions, his eyes eventually drifted to the bottom, studying the curve of Jax’s cheeks, and he stared for so long that his snooze went off.
Putting his phone down, Tristan rolled out of bed, looking at the tent in his pants.
Jax had flipped some kind of switch inside of Tristan, because he hadn’t been this horny since he was a teenager.
At least now he didn’t feel guilty about taking care of himself in the shower, and visualizing Jax on his knees again had Tristan coming in a frighteningly short amount of time.
Drying off, he put on loose clothing and ran through his physical therapy routine. His knee had recovered, but it twinged every once in a while, telling him that he still needed to do the exercises.
The sporadic reminders of his injury brought up more doubt.
He still wanted to do another thru, but would he pay a heftier price this time around?
And what about Jax? Did he really want to leave whatever was happening between them for six months?
Because things wouldn’t be the same when he came back .
But Tristan didn’t have to think about that right now. For the time being, he’d enjoy Jax’s company, keep his ma?tre d’ job, and bank his paychecks. Well, some of his paychecks.
Glancing at his phone again, he tapped the screen, wanting another quick peek at Jax, but a new message sat front and center.
Got the $$. Ur boyfrend is a fuking jerk.
That’s all the thanks he got for sending her money. Tristan knew he was being stupid, that Eve was using Rain as leverage to extort him, but both Rain and Mason had been through a lot. If a little cash kept them happy, then Tristan didn’t mind giving it up to see them thrive.
Putting on everything but the tux jacket, Tristan headed to The Pointe. This was their first work day after the almost perfect date, and nervous excitement fluttered in Tristan’s stomach at seeing Jax again.
Turning his headset on, Tristan practically skipped to the kitchen, but Jax seemed to be full of agitation instead of anticipation.
“Where is it?” He didn’t even look up as Tristan walked in, too busy hunting around, his head on a swivel. “Did someone take the celery I just put down?”
His eyes had a pinch to them, and Tristan could tell that Jax was in more pain than usual. Was there any way to reduce his suffering? Even a little? Surely there were options that Jax hadn’t thought of, and Tristan had some ideas, but he didn’t want to overstep.
“Can I help you find it?” He tried to radiate calm, but Jax wasn’t having it.
“Yeah. Hi, Tristan.” Jax’s deep brown gaze met his, full of irritation and masked agony. Turning away, he glanced at the cluster of cooks and servers watching. “Was it one of you?” His tone had a bite to it, and both Tristan and Angelo perked up.
Tristan stepped in front of Jax, blocking his line of sight.
“Let’s walk around. Where was the last time you saw it?”
“At this station.” Jax tried to look around Tristan, but he swayed to the side.
“Retrace your steps. Where did you get it from?”
“The walk-in,” Jax gestured toward it, clearly exasperated, but Tristan had infinite patience for him. In fact, it was easy to give Jax grace. He carried a lot, and while he had difficulties balancing his frustration, he wasn’t a bad person. He was in pain, and Tristan was here to assist.
Quickly looking over his shoulder, Tristan noticed that most of the servers and chefs had scattered, so he guided Jax to the wall-sized refrigerator.
As the cold washed over them, he noticed that Jax was hobbling, but his gait picked up as he reached the shelf with the celery, moving a box. “What the fuck?”
“Is that it?” Tristan looked over Jax’s shoulder at a stalk of celery that sat by itself, apart from the others.
“Yeah. I know I took this out. I may be hurting, but I’m not crazy.” His tone had dropped to a grumble, and Tristan could feel the anger radiating from him in waves.
“You’re not. Maybe someone brought it back in here by mistake?” Putting his hands on Jax’s shoulders, he tried not to flinch at the murderous stare he got in return. “This is the time to try being calmer. Breathe with me?”
The glare lessened in intensity; in fact, Jax instantly became contrite. “Okay.”
“Inhale on a count of four. One, two, three, four. Good, hold it - one, two, three, four. And now exhale, two, three, four, then rest - two, three, four. Wonderful!” Thankfully, no one came into the walk-in. “Now, let’s do that again.”
They repeated it a few more times, Tristan joining in, and by the end, Jax seemed much more relaxed.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, cringing. “The pain is a lot today, but that isn’t an excuse. I should’ve been nicer.” His deep-brown eyes stared up at Tristan, filled with regret.
“It’s fine.” Tristan gave him a peck on the lips.
He could see that underneath that misery was a genuine, sweet soul.
Thinking back on his first years with Eve, before things had started to fray, he’d convinced himself that there’d been a connection.
But what he felt toward Jax couldn’t be compared.
The pull between them was practically tangible.
“Is there anything I can do to help with the pain?”
“Get me a new spine?” Jax snorted, shivering in the cold.
“It wasn’t the date, was it? ”
“It was everything.” Letting out a sigh, Jax cracked his neck. “I’ve been pushing my luck, working a lot and moving twice. I was kind of waiting for this.”
“Tristan, where are you?” Marci asked over the headset, her voice sweet but deadly. “Canoodling with Jax?”
“Oops!” Tristan exclaimed, turning his microphone on. “Be right there, Marci. And Jax says hello.”
Jax’s eyebrows shot up in shock, and he barked out a laugh. “Go. And thanks.” This time, Jax gave Tristan a quick kiss, but before he could turn, Tristan grabbed his hand.
“Let me know if you need help with anything . Okay?” His chest squeezed; it didn’t sit well with him that Jax was hurting so badly, and if he could somehow alleviate it, he would.
“Okay.” Jax gave him one of those soft, private smiles before they left the walk-in.
While it was part of Tristan’s job to interact and work with the kitchen, they were at capacity that night. So, he didn’t have a chance to talk to Jax about anything other than work until the last hour of the reception, when he took advantage of the lull after dessert to slip away.
He found Jax cleaning one of the stations, his head down and jaw set, moving slowly, as if every motion hurt, and Tristan hurried over.
“Are you okay?” Taking the cloth from Jax’s hand, Tristan finished wiping things down.
“N-Not really.” His voice came out weak, the words soaked in pain, and when he finally looked up, his eyes were shadowed and intense, his breathing heavy.
“Can you leave?” Tristan looked for Angelo, and his gaze landed on one of the line cooks from earlier, who’d been watching as Jax searched for the celery.
Now, he stared with a grin on his face, and sharp anger spiked through Tristan, surprising him, because he wanted to get up in Derrick’s face and ask him what part of this he found amusing.
But before Tristan could open his mouth, the line cook quickly walked away, texting on his phone.
“Almost. I still have some things to do,” Jax bit out, hunched over, and Tristan immediately calmed .
“Can Winter do them?”
“Sure can!” Winter ran over. “Go home , Jax.”
“Ditto!” Angelo called out from a few stations away. “Take a day if you need it. Just one event tomorrow.”
“Thanks!” Jax ground out. “I really AAH! ” His cry echoed through the kitchen, bringing it to a halt as he grabbed his back, falling to one knee.
“Jax!” Tristan’s voice was just as loud, and he dropped beside him while Angelo, Winter, and Emma rushed over.
“I-It’s a s-spasm,” Jax spat through gritted teeth, his face crumpling, and Tristan shifted, shielding Jax from too many prying eyes. As he got closer, Jax jerked, crying out again. “ Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” There were tears in his voice but not in his gaze. “I’m sor-”
“If you apologize for this, I’m going to fire you,” Angelo stated, his forehead wrinkled in concern as he crouched down beside them. “Should we call an ambulan-”
“ N-No ,” Jax insisted with a slight shake of his head.
“Then what can we do? What do you need?” Tristan reached for Jax’s hand, letting him squeeze it.
After using trekking poles for six months, Tristan’s grip strength was exceptional, and Jax seemed to be taking full advantage of that.
His grasp had Tristan’s heart squeezing just as hard, and for the hundredth time, he wished that he could take on Jax’s suffering, carry some of the burden.
“I…” Jax huffed a long breath through his nose. “I n-need to lie down some-where.” His eyes took in the scuffed tiles around him with distaste.
Even though they’d only known each other for a short time, their strange familiarity made it feel like centuries; that’s how Tristan knew that Jax was terrified for himself and his job. He could feel it like the worry was running through his own veins, chased by raw vulnerability and shame.
“Okay,” Tristan declared, taking off his headset and placing it on top of the station. “Can you stand?”
Jax thought for a moment and then shook his head again, his eyes locking with Tristan’s and confirming everything he’d felt. But Tristan saw need and trust in there too, and he vowed to honor that in any way he could.