All Chapters of Dionysus Rising ( A Rockstar Romance) books 1-3: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

JaxI’d been to my fair share of parties over the years, probably more than my fair share, but I’d never been nervous going into one. Not even when the band was just starting to be known, and we had to show our faces alongside actual rockstars. I had always felt like I belonged rubbing shoulders with the stars because, well, hello, I was born to be one. But this party… I didn’t belong there. In Elodie’s little ground floor apartment which seemed to be nothing more than wall to wall Savage Sons, I felt completely out of place. It wasn’t even that I was nervous around them, although I should have been after how I had acted with one of their own. I didn’t even care that it was a sausage fest of epic proportions and that almost every woman I saw was hanging off the arm of a biker. No, I was nervous because this was Elodie’s place. Which meant she was somewhere in the crowd, no doubt looking beautiful and put together. That’s how Erik had described her when I had asked how she was at the

ElodieJax Turner, lead guitarist of Dionysus Rising: the biggest rock band in the world, loved me. I had heard the words, seen his lips form them, but it still didn’t quite compute in my head. Not even the ring he slipped into my palm seemed real. Even when I could see it nestling there — a thick, hammered band of silver. I couldn’t help myself, I kept staring down at it. If I’d had a hand free, I would have pinched myself.Jax fidgeted, moving from foot to foot awkwardly. “I know it's not…” Wildly, he looked over my shoulder to Dion, who still for some reason had his arms wrapped around my waist. “It's not much, and not you. I can get you something else.” He lunged forward, his hands reaching out to pluck the jewellery out of my hand. Closing my hand around it, I growled out a warning to him. “No.”Behind me, Dion laughed, his chest vibrating against my back.Jax arched one eyebrow. “No?” I could see the confusion on his face. He didn’t need to ask the question I could see formin

Lola It was nice being home alone. Not because I didn’t like Elodie, my roommate, because I did. She had given me somewhere to crash when everything had gone tits up with work and I’d found myself out on my ear, and for that I would be eternally grateful. Not to mention she was a cool woman, educated and fun to be around. We had become fast friends. And I loved living here. It was a damn sight better than living with Louis, my big brother. He would have happily taken me in, but the thought of staying at his, even as gorgeous as his home was, had filled me with dread. My brother was a player. He’d always been a player and joining Dionysus Rising had made him worse. I didn’t much fancy bumping into his endless stream of women. Plus, there was, of course, the little matter of his bandmates. Dionysus Rising. The thought of bumping into them, particularly a certain lead singer, was enough to make shivers run up my spine and goosebumps erupt over my arms. Even the memory of the way his

Lola Dion had a son. A healthy baby boy. I shouldn’t have felt betrayed, but I did anyway. I knew it was a selfish thing to feel, but I was all for owning my feelings these days. As long as I could own them with a healthy gulp of red wine, of course. Subconsciously, I tipped the glass to my lips, and no more than a dribble hit my tongue. In utter shock, I had forgotten that I’d spilled the contents all over myself. I sobbed out loud. The grip I had on the glass slipped and it bounced off the carpet, sending blood red droplets spraying out. “Shit, shit, I’m sorry.” Scrambling down onto my knees, I rubbed at them. But that only made it worse. I raised wide, tear–filled eyes at my roommate. “I didn’t mean to. I’ll pay for it to be cleaned and...” “It’s wine, Lola. After my brother lived here, I doubt it's even close to the worst thing on this floor.” She lifted me under the armpits, the kind expression never leaving her face. “You want to talk about it?” Her golden flecked eyes search

Lola “Lola.” Dion had the kind of velvety voice that made a woman’s panties wet, and I was no exception. Even as hungover as he was, he still oozed the kind of sex appeal that never quite made it to his pictures. He was all dark good looks and unbridled animalistic sexuality. Just the way he said my name in that breathy voice made something heat up inside of me. Turning around so I could do something, anything but look into his too beautiful face, I busied myself making the coffee. I didn’t bother asking him how he took it; I didn’t trust myself to speak just yet. But it occurred to me that I should probably have known how he took his coffee before thinking about marrying him. Without meaning to, I giggled. “Want to let me in on the joke?” Dion’s breath moved the hair at the back of my neck, and I shivered before I could help myself. “Lola?” “Stop saying my name like that, Dion.” Clanging the spoon against the edge of the cup, I felt him grimace behind me, so I did it again, loud