Ticket to the Stars, Part Two

Chapter One – Priest

In hindsight, maybe I shouldn’t have kissed Angel on stage, in front of the crowd—some of whom were undoubtedly filming Black Sacrament’s triumphant return to the limelight. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to let my jealousy over what I’d seen in her dressing room get to me.

But I just couldn’t help it. It was like something had taken hold of me and forced me to do it, like an invisible string kept pulling me back to her.

I didn’t want to like her. Hell no. I enjoyed the life I had before Angel was in the picture. I liked knowing first names only, no strings attached fuckings, and a relationship-free life. I’d never wanted to settle down… but then Angel came in to the picture and made everything so much harder than it was before.

That night, everyone was tense. We went back to the Redborne, into our separate rooms, but I’d bet none of us got any sleep. I’d bet, for that matter, we were all wired.

The sad thing was, I was so focused on Angel and obsessing over those soft fucking lips, so caught up in wanting to feel them on me again that I didn’t even think too much about Deacon or what we’d learned tonight.

Deacon wanted to quit, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. After he got over himself, he’d realize that he couldn’t walk away from Black Sacrament any more than I could stop thinking about Angel and those ridiculously soft lips of hers.

Seriously, if Deacon kissed her, I’d bet he’d feel better.

Not that I was saying I’d be okay with Deacon kissing her, but… well, if she had to kiss someone else, I guess I’d rather it be Deacon or Bishop rather than some random dude from the street. I’d semi-bitterly share the girl I liked with my best friends.

Fuck. I had it bad for her. I’d had it bad for her this whole time. That’s what made it so hard to stay away from her these last few weeks, and what had made me so envious when I’d seen Bishop kissing her. I hadn’t heard what had led up to the kiss, but I did wonder.

I was up early the next morning, hitting the gym before anyone else left their room. I tried to let out some steam, but it didn’t work. Nothing I could do shut my mind off. Nothing I did pushed Angel out of my head. She was just there. She was there and she wasn’t going anywhere—and it was driving me crazy.

It was just after nine by the time I got back, and when I walked through the front door, I spotted Bishop making himself some coffee. He shot me a look over his shoulder, and that look hardened into a glare when I approached him. We hadn’t spoken a word more after Ramona had left my dressing room last night. He was mad. I couldn’t blame him, I guess.

I set my gym bag down on the island and leaned my forearms on the cold stone countertop. He’d turned his back to me. I was sweaty after my hour and a half long workout, but I didn’t want things to be like this between us, so even though I wanted to shower, I stayed right where I was.

“Can we talk?” I asked.

Bishop harrumphed, like he was an old guy or something.

I took it as an affirmative. “I know what I did last night was a little out of line.”

That got him to turn around to face me, the Keurig behind him just finishing his cup. “A little?” he echoed, eyebrows practically in the air. “We’re in a load of shit because of you. Ramona’s pissed. I’m pissed. Angel’s pissed. And Deacon wants to quit the band—”

Holding up a finger, I said, “To be fair, Deacon wanted to quit the band before I kissed Angel on stage last night. Everything else is my fault, but not that.” I realized now that wasn’t really a defense.

Bishop shook his head as he got his coffee mug. He set it on the island between us, his mouth tugged into a frown. Under his breath, he muttered, “I can’t believe she looked like she enjoyed kissing you.”

“She did?” That was news to me, mostly because I was, in that moment, too busy kissing her. I noticed Bishop’s scowl, and I wanted to make my buddy feel better, so I told him, “From what I saw, she enjoyed kissing you too.” I hated admitting that.

His finger tapped the handle on the mug. “I just can’t believe you kissed her weeks ago and never said a word. I can’t believe she didn’t say anything, either. Do you like her?”

“Do you?”

Bishop took a tiny sip. Instead of answering the question, he said something else, “I know her.”

That… wasn’t what I thought he’d say. I blinked. “You know her? What do you mean you know her?” The words were not computing in my head, and that was why I stared at him like he’d just sprouted a third arm in the center of his chest.

“From before,” he said. “Before I met you guys, when my parents were still together. We were friends. We hung out all the time. She lived right down the street from me. She’s the reason I got into music in the first place.”

Bishop never really talked about his childhood, so this was all news to me. “Why didn’t you say something before? Neither of you act like you know each other.”

“To you, or to her? I thought she didn’t remember. Why would I want to tell you and Deacon about a girl who didn’t remember me?” Bishop took another sip from his coffee mug. “Turns out, she does remember. She just didn’t say anything all this time because she thought I didn’t remember.”

“Is that what you two were talking about before you sucked face?”

He shot me a glare, but that glare faded almost instantly as he said, “Yeah. Everything’s out in the open now. I just… I don’t want to be in a competition with you. We both know when it comes to girls, you always win.”

I do. I mean, I did. Past-tense. Right now, the last thing I could think about was other girls. The only one taking up space in my head was the girl down the hall. Things were different with her.

“Then,” I started to say, “let’s not.”

That got Bishop to stare at me. At least he wasn’t frowning anymore or giving me a hard glare like Deacon. “What do you mean?”

I searched for the right words to say. “Let’s not be in a competition.”

“So, just forget that we like her?”

“Ah-ha! You do like her. I knew it,” I pointed out.

Bishop had a comeback ready: “And you like her too. I’m not stupid. You’ve changed since she’s come around. You don’t go out, you don’t hook up with girls every chance you get. You don’t do any of that stuff because you actually like her.”

I wanted to argue with him, but I couldn’t fault his logic, and I definitely couldn’t argue with him that it wasn’t true when it was, in fact, true. “So what if I do? It’s not the end of the world, me liking someone.”

“It is when your whole thing is never giving a shit,” Bishop said.

Waving his words off, I said, “Whatever. I just… we lost Pope. I don’t want to lose you too, so let’s just not compete with each other.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, like I was giving him a headache or something. “What are you trying to say, Priest? Are you saying you think we both should pull back and forget about all of this? Act like it never happened?”

“No, you saw how well that worked out for me. Pretending none of this happened will only make things worse.” And make you regret wasting so much time, take it from the guy who’d tried to ignore Angel and the shape of her mouth for the past month.

“So, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying—” Shit. What was I trying to say here? “I’m saying maybe we shouldn’t view each other as competition, that’s all. Jealousy makes people do stupid things—”

“Like kiss Angel onstage and give Ramona an aneurysm?” Bishop offered.

I nodded. “Yes, jealousy does that.”

Bishop tossed a glance over his shoulder, like he thought Angel would appear or something. He lowered his voice to a bare whisper, “Are you trying to say we should both go after her and let her pick who she wants? That way there can be no hard feelings toward the other person?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” That sounded better than telling him I thought we should both try dating her at the same time. I mean, two guys sharing a girlfriend. That could only end up in a disaster, right?