Page 22 of True Abandon

“Your arm is pretty bad,” I say from my spot by the door. “Do you think you’ll be able to play again?”

He lets out a disappointed grunt from inside his throat.

I cross my arms in front of me and take a step toward his bed. “How did you end up in a band? Talk about changing your career path.”

He raises a brow. “You mean law school?” He continues when I nod my head. I dropped out of college my sophomore year.”

It’s the one thing I never understood. All these years stalking him on the internet, keeping tabs on what he’s been up to, I never understood how he went from wanting to be a lawyer to a professional musician.

“Did something happen?”

“I don’t want talk about this anymore.”

Palming my hand down my face, I laugh into my hand. “I give up. What are we supposed to talk about?”

“Strawberry jam.”

“What?”

“You love strawberry jam on dry turkey.” Jax scrunches his face as he recalls this little-known fact.

After the exchange we just had, this is how he breaks the tension. I fall onto the recliner and wonder how on earth we are going to survive staying in this room together for another few hours.

“It’s not that weird,” I counter.

“It’s fucking gross.”

“What about ketchup on eggs?” I stick my finger into my mouth and pretend to gag.

“Delicious,” he answers with a wide-mouthed grin.

“Disgusting.”

“You still look behind the shower curtain every time you walk in a bathroom?”

“There could be a serial killer in there.”

He puts his uninjured hand up in the air and says, “There could be,” in a mocking tone.

I level my eyes at him. “You’re the loser who’s still afraid of ghosts.”

“How do you know I…” Jax starts and stops, and I watch as realization crosses his face. “You stalk me.”

Shit. “Do not.”

He grins at me, and it’s unnerving. “I spoke about that in an interview last year.”

“How many tattoos do you have?” I ask quickly, gesturing to the dragon on his torso.

“You checked me out while I was unconscious,” he says as a statement more than a question.

I grimace as if I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“They have a name for that. Necrophilia.”

“You’re not wearing a shirt. I can see them from here.”

“What do you think of the lotus flower?”