His condescending tone made my cheeks hot with anger. "Stop talking to me like I’m a child," I said sharply. "Dammit, Jax, stop pushing me away!"

His scarred eyebrow raised almost imperceptibly, and he took a deep breath. "Riley, what did you do for your fourteenth birthday?"

I tried to remember. Was this Jax’s way of giving me a story back in exchange for the one I’d told about Gonzo? "We went to Applebees," I said, then corrected myself. "No, wait. That was the year of the disastrous sleepover. Mina gave Chloe a haircut so bad she actually cried."

His eyes closed softly and he nodded. "For my fourteenth birthday I . . . woke up on a park bench," he said. "I’d been saving cans for days, hoping to have enough to get twenty, thirty, maybe even forty bucks from the recycling center. I wanted a real meal, at a real restaurant."

My eyes were wide, but I couldn’t say anything. Jax had been homeless at fourteen?

"When I woke up, I found out someone had stolen the whole bag I’d saved," he said, his body starting to rock back and forth gently. "The sky was grey. My stomach was growling. And all I could do was . . . scream."

I realized the tears had started falling down my cheeks again. Jax opened his eyes back up and looked at me. "I know you want to understand what I’ve been through," he said, reaching up a hand to dry the tears. "But our pasts are different worlds. Some things . . . you can’t understand. And you don’t want to. You’re lucky."

He was right. There was no way I could understand how he’d grown up. I’d never been out on the streets before. I’d never even been close. "I’m really sorry, Jax," I said. "I didn’t know."

"Well, now you do."

I looked uncomfortably at my lap as a full minute passed by quietly. "I . . . one thing I don’t get," I said, breaking the silence. "What did your fourteenth birthday have to do with Kev and ice cream?"

His expression darkened. "Riley, didn’t I tell you not to ask about it?"

"Yes, but—"

"Good."

"Look, Jax, we have different pasts, but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk now. I’m right here."

"You don’t get to win this one, Riley. Drop it." His expression was flat, unreadable, and he turned away.

Frustrated, I rolled over in the bed. I wanted to be a good girlfriend—I wanted to help Jax get past his fears instead of hiding from them. But no matter how hard I tried, he wouldn’t budge.

I couldn’t help hot tears from rolling down my cheeks. I wiped them from my face in a hurry, embarrassed that I was crying over something like this, but as I did, more came rolling down. Why was I getting so upset over this? I never would’ve imagined Jax shutting me out would hurt as much as it did. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized just how far I’d fallen for him.

Jax had been right when he said that we hadn't known each other for that long, but it felt like so much longer. My fear all this time had been what would happen if I gave in to him, but now for the first time, I began to fear what would happen if I lost him.

I curled into myself. It was like the pillow wall had been put back up and Jax, laying beside me, was a million miles away. With the pain in my chest eating away at me, I began to worry that I was getting myself in too deep. The more time I spent with Jax, and the closer we became, the more he’d be able to hurt me.

Chapter Twenty-Four

ALONE

I tossed and turned most of the night in Jax's bed as he slept soundly next to me. It almost felt like the pillow wall was back up and between us.

Thankfully, I must’ve dozed off sometime in the middle of the night since the next time I opened my eyes, sunlight streamed through the windows. Frustrated from my fitful night's sleep, I rolled over and realized I was the only one in bed.

"Jax?" Still woozy, I rubbed my eyes and scanned the room. There was no sign of him.

We still hadn’t spoken since our troublesome talk yesterday and both of us went to sleep angry at each other, all of which made his absence worrisome. The last time I woke up and he wasn’t around, he’d been planning our hotel getaway at the Palms. And while he could’ve been out making similar arrangements to make up for being so walled-off yesterday, I couldn’t shake the feeling that because of how we left things, this time it was different.

I wanted to know where Jax was, so I got up to look around the bus. Something was off though. There were no other footsteps, or music blaring, or any sounds of any sort.

After not finding anyone on the first and second floor, I went up to the sundeck and saw that we were parked amidst a grove of trees nestled in between rocky hills. In between the trees, I could see white stone columns and rows of red seats built into the hillside. It was The Roman, tonight's historic outdoor venue. It was supposed to be one of the hottest places to hold a concert in Los Angeles. Tonight’s show was special because it was going to be recorded for a live concert DVD.

I figured the band must’ve gone inside the venue to practice early and Jax was with them. Still though, it would’ve been thoughtful if Jax would’ve at least left me a note or something.

Even though Jax and I had issues we needed to work out, he’d made it clear that he didn’t want me to push him to talk, so I figured I’d wait until he decided to broach the subject.

Because of all the headaches and hanging out during the past few days, I had a lot of catching up to do before tonight's show so I went through my morning routine and then shifted myself into work mode. I spent the whole day on the bus' first floor couch, tossing around my laptop, hastily shuffling through papers, and shooting off brusque emails to my co-workers.

Later that afternoon, as I stretched out my stiff back, my phone started ringing. I eagerly grabbed it, hoping it was Jax calling to apologize.

But it was only Jen. Even though I’d gotten my hopes up for Jax, I was still happy to see her name show up. I answered and we chit-chatted for a bit. It was great to catch up with her and hear all the latest gossip about Hans Peterson. The whole time, though, she wouldn’t stop pestering me about Jax. Reluctantly, I gave her a few juicy snippets. But once I let a little slip out, I couldn’t stop, and I spilled everything that’d been going on. After I finished bringing her up to speed, including telling her how I woke up alone this morning and haven’t heard from Jax all day, there was a silence on the other end.

Jen cleared her throat. "I’m not trying to make any waves here, Rye, but as one of your very good friends, I feel like I should say something. Now, I know you’re the expert in bad boys, but I just watched this documentary on TV about them. This is how it always starts. First they wall themselves off, then they cut themselves loose. And usually with no explanations or anything."

"Oh stop, you’re over-exaggerating," I said, letting her words fly out the other ear. I knew she meant well, but I also knew that Jax and I had something special. "Trust me, Jax might be a bad boy, but he’s . . . different."

"If you say so, but if things go south, don’t say I didn’t warn you."

After we said our goodbyes and hung up, Jen’s words haunted me. First they wall themselves off, then they cut themselves loose. But I knew Jax wouldn’t do that to me. I thumbed around on the phone’s screen, ambivalent over whether I should text Jax. I wanted to see how he was feeling, but I was resolved to let him make the next move. I tossed the phone down and went back to work.