Chapter 58 Fallen God 13

Chapter 58 Fallen God 13
Dion

Tate's eyebrows shot into his hairline as I appeared in the doorway to the living room. My t–shirt dropped to settle over my stomach, and I grinned at him before I could help myself.

“What are you doing here?”

He motioned to the jumble of bags around his feet. But his eyes never left my face. “Thought you might need some of your shit, asshole… What were you–?”

I cut him off. “Did Erik send you?”

His blonde eyebrows shot up. “No, why would Erik…oh.” His eyes snapped to the door behind me and I didn't need to turn to know that Lola had come out of her bedroom. The same room Tate had seen me appear from. 

His mouth opened in a little O. 

“Little Lola.” Rushing past me, he engulfed her in a bear hug that lifted her from her feet, and swung her around in a circle until she squealed and slapped at his shoulders. Setting her gingerly back onto her feet, he held her out at arm’s length. “You look good.” He whistled between his teeth before gathering her back up again. “I honestly can't believe you have been here the whole time. Why didn't you come and see us? Does Louis know?”

“Louis was the one who arranged for me to meet Elodie.”

Tate swore low. His chin came down to rest on her shoulder. “And Elodie and Jax kept it to themselves as well. Why all the secrets?” His eyes fell on me and he grinned. “Ah,” he chuckled. “Your brother didn't want Dion to know where you were.”

“It…um, it wasn't like that,” Lola stammered, and two pink spots appeared high on her cheekbones.

“Of course not.” Positioning himself at her side, he squeezed her into his side. “Well, how about a hot drink for your old friend Tate?”

I frowned. “You're not staying and…”

“Of course I am. I have some things to discuss with you over the last song you wrote.”

His words made me frown. I had written a few songs since coming back off tour, but the changes and choices had already been agreed with the band. They were finalised. I didn't know what else there was to talk about unless this was some ploy to make sure me and Lola didn't have any time together.

“You know the one,” one corner of Tate's lips twitched, “in your notebook.”

My eyebrows slammed down. “That one is…” My eyes darted to Lola. She glanced, confused, between the two of us, but said nothing. “That one isn't for the band. It's private.” And it was private – for my eyes only. I’d put too much of myself into that song, my heart and my soul and all the pain I had been feeling. “I'm kind of pissed you went through my shit, Tate.”

He shrugged. “I knew you were hiding something good, and I wasn't wrong. It might just be the best thing you have written.”

“It's not for the band,” I repeated. 

Maybe Tate was suddenly hard of hearing because he ignored me again. “It is now. Anyway, Lola, how about that cuppa?”

“Sure, do you want me to bring it in for you guys so you can talk?” Lola fidgeted nervously. She might not know what the sudden tension in the room was about, but she knew it was there. I wouldn't have it out with Tate in front of her, but I would have it out with him.

He had no right to go through my private things, pry into my private thoughts.

“I’ll come and give you a hand, love.” Tate's arm didn't leave her shoulders. “It will give Dion a chance to compose himself.” He winked. “Your jeans are unbuttoned, by the way.”



“This,” Tate started as he produced the slightly battered notebook from beneath his jacket. He hadn’t waited even a moment after we had settled on the sofa and Lola had disappeared to shower. “It’s so fucking good, man.”

I snatched it from his fingers. “It's private, Tate, you had no right to–”

He cut me off. “Because it's about her?”

I stayed stonily silent. It was about her, the girl who had been driving me crazy since the first time I had seen her. The one with the caramel hair who had just left us to talk with a smile lighting up her face. Without meaning to, my eyes went to the door she had just walked through. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Dion?”

Shaking myself, I turned to my bandmate in shock. “What do you mean?”

He followed my eyes. “You know exactly what I mean, Dion, so stop with the crap. Hooking up with her again is going to cause you even more shit that you don't need. You have this whole thing with Isla hanging over you, and you get Lola involved again.”

My anger erupted. Jumping to my feet, I started to pace. “I've had the Isla shit hanging over my head for months, Tate. The kid isn't mine.” 

“You knew that from the start, but at least be honest with yourself. You kind of wanted him to be, didn't you?”

I froze. “For a few seconds, maybe, when the date looked like he could be, but–” I admitted.

“If you are still in love with Isla,” he held up his hands one at a time, “or have any feelings still for Isla, then you have no right to be sniffing around Lola. She’s Louis' kid sister, for God's sake. The band needs him and you breaking his sister's heart isn't going to go down well.”

“I love Isla.”

Tate’s smooth, tan forehead creased into a frown.

“I love her like a sister, but I'm not in love with her. I care for her because she's been part of my life for a long time.” Ruffling up my hair with my fingers, I tried to find the right words. How could I explain it to him? “Isla is a massive part of Dionysus Rising.” Again, my eyes fell on the door. Dimly, I could hear the shower running, which meant that Lola couldn't hear what we were saying. “But I'm not in love with her. I don't think I ever was. Isla is my past, and Lola is my future.” I smiled ruefully. “If she will put up with my ass for that long, anyway.”

Across from me, Tate grinned. “Glad to hear it, brother.” Standing up, he clapped me on the shoulder. “I just needed to be sure.”

“Sure? Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Tate had been testing me. Seeing where Lola stood. Not for himself and maybe not even for Lola herself. But for the band. If I was messing Lola around, then Louis would leave. We would be without a drummer once again. And then there was the fact that Tate had gotten pretty close to Louis in the time he had been with us. Which was confusing all by itself, seeing as they were complete opposites. 

“You going to go running back to Louis and tell him how fucked up about his sister I am?”

“Nope.” Settling himself back down on the sofa, Tate waited until I had taken my seat opposite him. “He knows that.” His eyes crinkled at the edges. “He doesn't like it much, so I think you are going to have to prove to him you mean what you say yourself.”

Yeah, I knew that and I knew it wouldn't be easy, but God, it would be worth it. People cared about Lola. In the tiny amount she had been around the band, they had adopted her fully as their little sister. It wasn't only Louis I would have to answer to if I fucked this up. Not that I would. 

Lola was the kind of woman who only came around once in a lifetime. I’d lost her once, and I had no plan to repeat the agony and darkness I’d experienced for the last few months. 

“And now about this song.”

“It's not for the public,” I repeated. Why couldn't he get it through his thick head? The song was private, it was…

“It's the best thing you've ever written, Dion, and we want it to be our first single release on this album.” Tate didn't let me answer him. Waving his hand in front of him, he grinned. “And just think of her reaction.” His eyes darted toward the door. “You wrote an epic love song about her man, that's pretty cool.”