Chapter 63 Fallen God 18

Chapter 63 Fallen God 18
Lola

Dion didn't come to me like I expected him to. Like Elodie had said he would when she and Jax had left. Like Erik had promised as he said his goodbyes and slammed the front door behind him. He was the last one to leave, and since then it had been one long silence.

The apartment felt empty, even though I could hear the shower through the bathroom door. Standing outside the locked door, I listened for a few minutes, a sigh leaving my lips. It was clear that Dion wasn't going to surface anytime soon.

He was embarrassed.

I was as well. Even after Elodie had explained a dozen reasons why I shouldn't be, I was still mortified. Kissing me had made Dion sick. As romance went, it made ours pretty dead in the water. Not that I wanted to believe that. Whatever was going on between us hadn't even really started, so I didn't want to believe it was over already. 

Groaning, I rubbed my hands across my face hard, trying to remind myself what Elodie had said. It wasn’t you. It was the smell of alcohol. Deep down, I knew she was right, but it didn't make me feel any better. If anything, it made me feel worse. Because I should have thought about the fact he was a recovering addict. I should have been more thoughtful and more compassionate and…well, just more. That’s who Dion thought I was.

That was the problem with people’s assumptions. The expectations they put on me were next to impossible to live up to. And Dion was the worst of the lot. He had me placed on a pedestal like I was some sort of angel. I wasn't an angel. I was a flesh and blood woman and I made mistakes like any human.

Groaning again, I padded towards the living room, and my eyes widened. The room I usually relaxed in looked like a bomb had gone off. Glasses and paper littered every surface and there were spills all over the coffee table. Dionysus Rising might be the cream of the crop of rockstars, but they were slobs like any other – there was no denying that. 

Bending to gather up a stack of used plastic shot glasses, I grimaced. My fingers were sticky from the remnants of the alcohol in them, and a wave of unease flooded me. I didn't want to pick up after a bunch of drunk rockstars like I was their maid. I should have made them clear up their own damn mess, but…but I couldn't let Dion come out to it all, either. That wouldn't be kind. Not after what had happened. But then again, nothing anyone had done tonight had been kind to him. 

It was a miracle he was sober at all. 

Gathering up as many plastic glasses as I could, I dumped them in the bin just inside the kitchen door and reached for a cloth. The place stunk of booze. Even as tipsy as I was, I could smell it. And if I could, then Dion would definitely be able to. I was in the middle of wiping down a particularly stubborn sticky spot on the glass table when I heard the bathroom door open and then a bedroom door shut.

Dion was done with his shower. Holding my breath, I cleaned the last traces of our impromptu party away and waited for him to come out to me.

He didn't.

Five, and then ten minutes went past and there was nothing but silence punctuated with the sound of my laboured breaths. I was crying softly, and I hadn't even realised it. Angrily, I wiped my tears, refusing to cry over him. I hadn’t meant to do anything wrong. I hadn't meant to hurt him, so why was he punishing me? Unless, of course, it had nothing to do with what I had been drinking and everything to do with me.

Maybe Dion just wasn't that into me after all. Maybe living with me for a few days had made him realise I wasn't what he thought I was. 

Hell, maybe I had made it too easy for him. 

Dumping the trash bag untied by the back door, I stomped my way to my bedroom. Only, I didn't get there. Dion's bedroom door, which was really Elodie's door, was half open, giving me a clear view of the bed where Dion sat with his back to me. 

It was difficult to resist gawking at his damp, dark hair and tanned body. 

And wide, shaking shoulders.

I did a double take and any thought of slamming my bedroom door and telling him to go to hell if he ever dared talk to me went out the window. 

Dion was crying. I was sure of it. He was trying hard not to, but the quivering shoulders gave him away. He needed someone. 

And whether he liked it or not, I was the only person available. 

“Dion.”

He didn't move or even acknowledge I had spoken, but his shoulders tensed, so I knew he’d heard me. 

“Dion, are you ok?” My voice came out a croaky whisper, and I wondered if he’d even heard it. 

No answer. He just sat there, unmoving. But he knew I was there and he must have heard the uncertainty in my voice. Or at least I thought he might have.

I had a decision to make. Leave him alone, which was obviously what he wanted me to do or… Without thinking too much about it, I pushed open the door. Climbing across Elodie's wide bed, I wrapped my arms around his quivering shoulders and let my forehead fall onto the back of his neck. 

“I'm so sorry,” I murmured and squeezed his shoulders, which tensed under my hands. “I didn't think and…” A sob made my next words impossible to understand. Clearing my throat, I tried again, and a tear fell onto his warm skin. “I just wanted you to know I'm sorry.”

He still didn’t move.

Loosening my grip, I shuffled backwards, intending to leave, but Dion's hands came up, capturing my wrists and drawing my arms back around him. 

“Don't go.” There was a tortured note to his voice, and it made me freeze.

“I thought…” Hell, I didn't even know what I'd thought, so I didn't finish that particular sentence.

“You thought wrong, Lola. I need you.”

“But…” The words still wouldn't come.

Twisting where he sat, Dion turned his face towards me. His eyes blazed in his head. He looked angry and hurt and something else I didn't want to name because it was much, too soon for that. “I need you.” He spoke slowly, as if punctuating each word. “Don't leave.”

“If you want me to stay, I will,” I whispered back. And I wasn't sure why I was whispering in my own house, but the situation seemed to call for it. “I'll stay for as long as you need me to,” I added.

Smiling, Dion reached up to cup the back of my head. “Forever?” Then his smile slipped an inch, and he shook his head. “No.”

The relief I had been feeling evaporated like it had never been there at all. “It’s ok, Dion.” Reaching up, I stroked my thumb down his cheek. For someone who everyone thought was such a good girl, lies fell easily out of my mouth. It wasn't ok. But it would have to be. If all Dion could offer me was tonight, and then nothing but friendship or just casual sex, I would find a way to be ok with it. I shook my head without meaning to. Hell, I didn't have any choice but to be ok with whatever he offered me. It wasn't like I had been planning forever, either. Not out loud, anyway.

“Don't get me twisted, Lola.” There it was the note of anger in his voice. “What I want and what I am going to get are two different things.” He shrugged. “What I'm going to get is a lot of grief over Isla and the past.”

“And what do you want?” I hated myself for the needy tone in my voice. I'd spent months after my time in Vegas telling myself that it was just a one–night thing. And I'd gone to bed every night with his face swimming in my mind. 

“You.”

“Dion.”

“Can’t ask you to be with me with what's coming, Lola.”

I tightened my grip on him. “You don’t need to ask me.”

He twisted more, finally coming to face me totally. “Lola, you don't know what you are saying. It's going to get tough–”

Cutting him off, I pressed my finger to his lips, silencing him. “I know. And I'm ok with that if you are. You don't need to go through this alone anymore.”

Cloudy eyes searched my face. “You mean that?”

“If you want me by your side, I'm there, Dion. I don't care how tough Isla makes it. I'm not going anywhere. Not until you tell me to leave.” I added.

“So, never then?” Dion's head ducked, his lips hovering over mine, but he didn't close the distance between us. And I knew what was stopping him. He was afraid of a repeat from earlier. 

“I want to kiss you, Lola, but–”

“I brushed my teeth and grabbed some bubble gum from Celia,” I said hurriedly. “I'm not minty fresh, but it’s sweet and tropical and–”

His lips came crashing down, silencing me. The kiss lasted maybe five seconds, but it seemed to go on for eternity. I lost myself in it. In the feel of him and his beautiful mouth. Magic happened with that mouth. Whether he was singing or kissing, it didn't matter. I was totally under his spell. 

“Sleep in here with me tonight, Lola.”

“Ok.” There was no hesitation in my answer. Running my hands down his chest, I paused at the edge of the towel that had come loose around his waist. He wasn't on display, but it was close. My fingers itched to tug it aside.

“To sleep.”

“Sleep?” Raising an eyebrow, I studied him. “You just want to sleep?” I didn't know what to think about that. Because I most definitely did not want to just sleep. I was eager to carry on where we had left off earlier. 

“Yes, my beautiful little sex pest.” His eyes shone. “And don't go trying to look innocent because I know better. Let me spend the night with you in my arms.”

“So, tomorrow morning?”

Dion's laugh filled the room as he pulled me down onto the pillows with him.