Chapter 59 Fallen God 14

Chapter 59 Fallen God 14
Lola

“I…” Pausing in the doorway, I surveyed the mess in front of me. Bits of paper were scattered all over the coffee table, half empty coffee cups sat on Elodie's cream carpet. Dion was scribbling something on a stack of papers as Tate strummed a guitar on his lap.

Neither man looked up, so I had a few seconds to take them both in. And they were both gorgeous, but it was on Dion that my eyes lingered. There was something mesmerising about the lines that crinkled up the corners of his eyes as he chewed on the end of the pen in his hand. 

I was watching magic happen, and I had a front–row seat for it. They were working on a song, that much was clear, and they were so lost in it they didn't even know I was there.

“I think if…” Tate trailed off, leaning over to tap his fingers enthusiastically on the arm of the chair. Dion watched him do it, his head nodding in time with the beat that Tate was drumming out. 

“Yeah, that would work.” He grinned, and it was like watching the sun come out from beneath clouds. He actually shone. 

“Louis would have a better handle on it. And I know Jax has some ideas as well.” Tate's head slowly turned to me. “Hey, Lola.” Whistling between his teeth, he climbed to his feet. “You look good, going somewhere nice?” His melting brown eyes travelled down the length of my body and then back up, but there was nothing overly sexual about his gaze. He wasn't checking me out.

“Eyes back in your head, pervert.” Dion swiped the back of Tate’s head, and clambering to his feet, he did the exact opposite of what Tate had done. Holding me at arm’s length, he let his eyes travel down my body, burning a trail over my skin. Everywhere they lingered, I seemed to burn. Maybe it was because I'd been naked with Dion. He knew what was under my clothes. And he made sure that I remembered he knew. 

“You look fantastic,” he finally said. “Dressing up for me?” Wrapping his arm around my shoulders, he pulled me into his chest. His head ducked down to kiss me, but I stepped out of his grasp.

“No.”

From his perch on the floor, Tate boomed out a laugh.

“I didn't mean… I just…” Imploring Dion with my eyes, I reached for him before I could help myself. He caught my hand easily, pulling me back into the warmth of his chest. Startled, I shot a glance at Tate.

“Dion.” With my hands trapped at my sides, I couldn't push him away. And I was hyper aware that Tate was right there, watching every move we made. 

“Relax.” Twirling me around, he wrapped his hands around my waist so we were both facing Dionysus Rising’s bass player. “Tate is cool, right?”

Tate’s facial expression didn't change. He sat there crossed legged with the guitar settled on his lap, and just stared. There was no way to read his face. It was perfectly serene. But then, apart from the few times I had seen him mucking about with my brother, Tate seemed the most zen guy I had ever met. Unflappable and unreadable. 

“We’re cool,” he finally said. His words were as calm as his face, but there was something there that made me uncomfortable.

“Tate, if my brother…”

There it was, the first flicker of amusement in his light brown eyes. “Oh, sweet girl, if you think Louis doesn't know what's going on, then you don’t know your brother at all. Either that or you're a fool.” He cocked his head to the side. “You don't look like a fool to me. Especially not dressed like that.” He winked.

Self–consciously, I glanced down at my outfit. My brother was my whole world. And I owed him a lot. The last thing I wanted was this thing between me and Dion to cause him problems. 

“Louis will come around, Lola, especially when he hears the song.” 

I stared at him in shock. “Song?” Slowly, I turned my attention to the man holding me. Dion wasn't looking at me, and there were two red points high on his cheeks. Dion Granger was blushing. It was adorable and sweet. And so damn surprising that I reached out and rubbed my thumb over one of those spots. He caught my wrist easily. 

“Did you write a song about me?”

“No.” His grip on my wrist tightened as he pulled my arm back down to my side. “It's just a song, that's all. I write them all the time.” He stepped away.

“Ok?” I shot a look at Tate, who shrugged. Dion was a strange creature, a hard to understand man, not to mention an infuriating one. But I truly didn't understand his sudden shift in attitude. I knew they had been writing music: the evidence was all over my living room. It had been Tate that had hinted it was about me; I’d just followed his lead. 

A heavy, uncomfortable silence wrapped around us. The room was so quiet that the sound of my heart seemed loud in my ears.

“Well, I best be going.” Reaching for my coat, I'd barely gotten my arms through when Dion reached for me again. 

“Where are you going?”

“I have a job interview.” I smiled up at him because I just couldn't stay mad at him for long. Even if he was being a jerk, he was an adorable jerk. I think it had something to do with the dimple that popped every time he looked at me and smiled. I'd always been a sucker for a dimple. 

“You do? Why?”

“Because normal people need to work, Dion.” Reaching up, I kissed his cheek softly. “We can't all be rockstars.”

“But you’ll be back?”

Yep, it was official. He was an adorable lost puppy wrapped up in bad boy swagger. “I'll be back, Dion.” Winking at Tate, I headed towards the door and then called over my shoulder. “I live here, remember?”



“Personally, I think you will fit in really well here, Miss Michaelson.” The hand that was thrust over the desk was tanned and elegant. I shook it without hesitation, keeping my grip light but firm enough for him to know I wasn’t intimidated by him.

And I wasn't. It was pretty hard to be intimidated by a hot and much younger than expected principal when I'd been around men like Dion. 

“Thank you, Mr Scott. Does that mean…?”

He hadn't officially said it out loud yet, and I needed to hear it.

“Call me Tom, and yes, it means you have the job.” Bright eyes framed with wire trim glasses wrinkled at the corners, deepening the lines there. It made him look older, but no less handsome. Some guys just aged well. “You start January 4th, if that's suitable for you?” He glanced down at the sheets of paper on the desk in front of him. 

“You put on your application that you are single?” A tiny line appeared between his eyebrows. Lifting his eyes to me, his smile dropped a fraction. “Is that correct, because…”

He didn't need to finish. I knew what he had just seen in the notes in front of him. Why I'd had to leave my first teaching job – the whole debacle with Dion and Isla earlier this year. 

“The mess that was in the papers was one big misunderstanding,” I said softly. Holding my breath, I waited for the inevitable. For him to change his mind. It wouldn't be the first time it had happened to me. 

Leaning back, his eyes appraised me. “I don't doubt that for a second. But we can’t have that kind of–”

I cut him off. “I won't bring trouble to your school, Mr Scott, Tom,” I amended softly. “I am single.” Technically, that wasn't a lie. I was single. Dion hadn't put a label on our relationship yet and truthfully, it was far too soon to do that, anyway. It didn't matter that I'd had his cock in my mouth only a few hours ago. Just like it didn't matter that I couldn't keep the man out of my mind. I was a grown–up, and I could keep my private life away from my work life.

“But you do know this,” his eyes flicked downward again, but I wasn't fooled – he knew exactly who I had been connected with, just like he knew what band Dion was in, “this singer, Dion Granger?”

Mulling over my options, I paused. I could lie, which would get me absolutely nowhere.

“I have connections to Dionysus Rising, yes.” Neither one of us spoke for a second. “My flatmate is romantically involved with their guitarist and–”

“And?” A blond eyebrow shot up.

“My brother, Louis, is their drummer.”

Tom Scott’s mouth fell open. “I feel like an idiot not realising you’re related to Louis Michealson, well I never.” He whistled softly.

Hiding my smile, I played along, although it was super clear to me that the man in front of me was a drummer, or at the very least, a drumming fan. “Yes, my big brother. Do you play?”

“A little, and we have some very talented young musicians within the school.” He gave me a warm smile. “I am sure they will be very excited to know who you are related to, but I have to warn you they may pester you to bring him in to meet them one day.”

I chuckled. Yeah, of course he meant the students and not him. “I am sure Louis would love to,” I lied. My brother wasn’t a kid person at all. I could not see him agreeing to come into a primary school of screaming kids, even if I begged him. Not unless there were lots of hot mums there, anyway.

“Well, Mr Scott, it's been great meeting you.” Again, my hand went across the desk for him to shake. “I’m looking forward to working with you all, and have a great Christmas.”

“Nonsense, I can’t send you off just yet. You must come and meet the staff and some of the children. I insist.”