Maybe he'd changed his mind because of the sex—but so what if he had? He was right. I'd been treating him like he was made of porcelain ever since the night of the Molotov, and that couldn't feel good.
But at least I'd managed to coax him out of his shell, and for now, even something that small felt like a victory. There was no way for me to know how long it would last, but I did know one thing—I would keep doing whatever it took to make him well again.
Chapter Eight
CHANGE
After our stop at Big Sur, we made record time to San Francisco with Chewie happily coaxing as much speed out of the convertible as he could on the winding coastal road.
And for the first time since Jax had brought me to the scene of his darkest secrets, I was happy, too—and it wasn't because of the awesome scenery. The whole rest of the way, Jax held my hand, even when he teased me. He laughed and joked with the band. From the surprised looks everyone shot one another, I could tell that no one was sure what had happened with Jax—not that it stopped us from enjoying it, just the same.
But every time I glanced at Jax's smiling face, I reminded myself of what he'd told me. He still had a long way to go to heal. I shouldn't expect changes overnight. And though the handjob had brought us closer than we'd been all week¸ we were still far from being back to normal. Not that we'd ever really had a normal relationship, but before all this drama we'd at least been free to simply enjoy each other, without Jax's demons coming between us.
Despite my wariness over Jax's good mood, he continued to surprise me. It stayed with him all through our first night in San Francisco, and even into the next day. And at the radio station where the band had their interview, he surprised me even more.
While answering questions from the pretty female DJ, he positively smouldered, making eyes at me that even made the show host take notice—because she thought it was all for her. As I watched from a seat in the back of the studio, I thought she would melt under the full force of his scorching persona.
Where did that come from? Maybe it was the handjob, maybe it was because this was a work situation, after all, but it seemed like my sexy boyfriend was back.
Don't get too excited. Jax still had a lot of trauma that he needed to deal with. But it did seem like he was improving—he'd even asked me to go out on a date after the interview wrapped up. I knew that Jax could put together one hell of a good evening, so I'd been looking forward to it for most of the day.
When the interview finished, Jax came over to where I sat in the back of the studio.
"Ready to hit the road?" he asked with a smile.
"I'm ready," I said, picking up my purse and standing up. "But I'm still dying to know why you insisted on me wearing sneakers today, instead of sandals. I'm a New Yorker, I can go miles in a pair of espadrilles."
Jax smiled again, a sly one this time. "You'll see. Besides, I think those are cute. They look like clown shoes."
Grimacing, I looked down at my multi-colored feet. The running shoes I'd packed on the off chance that I could squeeze in some exercise on this tour were so brightly neon that they could blind an unwary onlooker. In retrospect, that's probably why they'd been such a bargain—they were hard to look at without getting nauseous.
I raised an eyebrow. "Hopefully wherever we're going doesn't have a dress code."
"If it did, you'd definitely start a new trend," Jax said with a smirk. "Come on, let's go."
He wouldn't say another word about where we were going during the cab ride, but since he had me wear these shoes, I felt fairly certain that wherever we went, we'd be doing a lot of walking.
And when the cab dropped us off, I saw that I wasn't wrong.
I gave a slow whistle. "Wow. We're going all the way up there?
We stood at the foot of the steepest hill I'd ever seen. A hill so steep, that the street just stopped, as if the city builders had given up. In its place, a set of wooden stairs snaked their way up to the top. I could just see through the trees a white tower that perched at the hill's summit. He was right, sandals would have been murder on a climb like that.
"Telegraph Hill," Jax said with satisfaction. "And we're going to the top. It's got the best view of the city."
I gave him a sidelong look. "Did the doctor say when you would be ready for something like this?" I looked up again at the dizzying staircase. "There must be like five hundred steps."
"He said it was okay to get some exercise," Jax said. "And this won't be a problem for me." He gave me a smirk that was filled with his usual teasing sense of humor. "Maybe you're the one not up for the challenge."
"I'm not that out of condition yet," I retorted. "I bet I'll still be ready for more when you're wheezing that you can't go on."
Jax's eyes narrowed. "And I bet that you'll be begging me to carry you the last few yards."
I shook my head, smiling. "Not a chance. Care to make it interesting? The one who's hurting the most at the end buys dinner."
"You're on."
On the first flight of stairs, my thigh muscles stretched in a way they hadn't since . . . well, since I'd ridden Jax to orgasmic oblivion in Las Vegas. I smiled with pleasure. Whatever our relationship ended up being like once Jax healed, I wanted that kind of fun to happen often. Daily, even.
My distracting thoughts melted away after about forty steps, when my breath started to hitch. No, not already!
"Having problems?" Jax asked, a gleam in his eye. "Need a rest?"
"No," I huffed. "Just getting into the swing of it. Maybe you just want an excuse to stop."
"I'm fine," Jax replied, his voice hardly winded. "This feels great."
I glanced at him. His chest rose and fell easily, and he climbed with an energy usually reserved for his rock shows. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he took off the button up shirt he wore over his wifebeater without even breaking his stride.
Damn it, he's been in the hospital and he's in better condition than me. I grinned to myself, taking in the way his biceps stretched taut under his tan skin. Not that I'm complaining.
My breath hitched again, and I concentrated on climbing. Up ahead, a long landing interrupted the flight of stairs, stretching around either side of the hill. Houses jutted out alongside it, making the landing look like a little sidewalk. Maybe I could find a way to rest up there that wouldn't undo our bet.
"Come on," I said, scrambling ahead of Jax, my chest heaving. "I call a truce if there's a good view from up there. We don't want to miss it, right?"