So I Married a Rockstar

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ch.28: Uninvited Guest

I still hadn't met Meagan Morgan, but there was no shortage of other people that Elle wanted to introduce me to, and I let her pull me around, pausing every now and then to top up my champagne.

A short man with a beard that almost reached his navel offered me a joint, but I declined. The last thing I wanted tonight was to get too drunk or high and make a tit of myself.

Across the terrace, I spotted Jude laughing at something that China Rose was saying. My heart skipped a beat. He'd gone full rockstar tonight, in dark ripped jeans like the ones he'd worn for our interview, and a leather blazer that hung open around his bare chest. A fang-shaped pendant dangled from a chain around his neck, long enough that it reached his stomach. His curly hair was just the right mix of wild and styled, and his panty-dropping grin was in full effect.

He caught my eye and smiled, not that stage grin, but his quieter smile, the one for me.

My heart gave another flutter.

"Oh, yeah, you've got it bad," Elle said, and I blinked, realising she was watching me.

"What?" I said.

She clinked her champagne flute with mine. "I know Jude better than most people, and I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you."

"Really?"

Elle nodded. "I'll be honest, I wasn't sure about this whole trial marriage thing when Jude first told me about it."

I leaned closer to her. "I'll be honest, neither was I."

Elle laughed and we clinked glasses again.

"Seriously, though, I did wonder if he was doing it for the novelty factor, but there really is something there. You guys might actually make this work," Elle said.

"Don't sound too surprised," I teased.

"I can't help it. I always hoped he'd settle down one day, but I never imagined it would be like this."

I took a long sip of champagne. "There's no guarantee that it will be like this. We haven't been married very long, and things are going great, but it could change. I'm not naïve enough to think that the honeymoon period doesn't exist."

"Well, I believe in you," Elle declared.

"Thanks."

A cheer rose up from one corner of the terrace where one of the women from Skyclad had stripped topless, climbed onto a chair, and started belly-dancing.

"Living up to their name," I said.

"She always gets naked once she's had a few drinks," Elle chuckled.

Squeals broke out in another corner as a guy I didn't recognise sprayed a shaken bottle of champagne over a girl-group. I couldn't remember their name, but I was pretty sure Elle had appeared in one of their music videos a couple of years ago. Rich Powell watched them, laughing.

To my left, a guy I'd been introduced to as one of Angels & Demons' sound engineers balanced a white pill on his tongue before sliding it into the mouth of a younger man.

Another member of Skyclad was dancing naked on a chair, managing to keep perfect rhythm with her bandmate, despite being high as a kite.

Somewhere in the crowd, I heard Tasha laugh, though I couldn't see her.

Cole Roth had apparently forgotten about Natalie – a lithe blond straddled his lap, her face buried in his neck. I couldn't see Natalie anywhere; hopefully she'd left.