Chapter Thirteen – Priest
Not to be a pussy, but when Angel walked out of the bathroom and didn’t glance up at the stage once, it kind of hurt. That had to be why, toward the end of my duet with Hailee, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
It looked like she got into a fight with Deacon, because Deacon got up and stormed over to the bar to sit by himself—and that left her alone with Bishop, who, I saw, had his hand on her. Normally, I wouldn’t care, but something I couldn’t describe made me prickle.
That’s why, once our song was done, I told the girls they could take the stage together. I wanted to go over there and see what was going on, and I made sure to point out the fact that Bishop had his hand on her waist almost immediately.
I took Deacon’s empty seat so I could sit a little closer to Angel. I’d never known Bishop to be a guy who put the moves on anyone, but maybe there was something about Angel that made him want to.
Maybe he liked her. He wasn’t someone who ever went against what Ramona said. He wasn’t a rule-breaker. But Angel was pretty, and there was something about her big, blue eyes that made you forget about everything else.
After the whole thing with his hand on her waist, Bishop was watching the stage, acting like he was unaware Angel was beside him and I was on her left.
Angel leaned closer to me and whispered, “I think they like you.” She meant the two girls on the stage, and the way she whispered it in hushed tones made me wonder if she thought it was a secret or something.
Oh, sweet summer child.
“What can I say?” I asked with a grin. “There’s something magnetic about me.” An understatement. I could practically make a chick wet by giving her a smoldering look. It really didn’t take much on my part.
Hell, those girls would probably be down for a quickie in the restroom. I’d bet anything they’d willingly drop to their knees for me—even together. If it was another night, I’d be down for a threesome with those two lovely ladies.
But it wasn’t another night, and I was feeling some type of way after seeing Angel ignore me on the stage, not to mention Bishop’s hand on her.
Don’t ask me, okay? I didn’t know.
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” Angel asked.
“Long-term? Nah.”
She cocked her head at me, and some of her white hair fell away from her face. “Why not?”
I was not expecting this line of questioning from her, which was the only reason it took me a moment to say, “Uh, I don’t know. I guess I never saw the point. When we’re touring, we go from city to city. We’re gone a lot. And then when we’re recording, we’re in the studio all hours of the day and night.”
I was making it sound like it was about the time, or lack of it, but honestly… that wasn’t it. I never saw myself as the kind of guy who could get nailed down by one chick. I’d never had a desire to have a long-running relationship.
Plus, sex was fun. So fun that if I had to choose between sex and food, I’d choose sex. Nothing in this world could beat a good fuck.
“Why so curious about me, hmm?” I asked, cocking a single brow at her.
“I’m trying to understand you,” Angel told me. “I think I get it. You don’t want to be tied down. You can travel the world, and what if you meet someone you really want to be with, even if it’s just for one night? You don’t want the guilt or the weight of an actual relationship to weigh you down.” The way she said it, like she was an authority on me after such a short time of knowing me… well, I wanted to say it made me upset, but really, she’d hit it spot-on.
Angel went on, “I could never be like that. If I was with someone, I’d want to be with them, one hundred percent, and I’d want to know that they were giving me everything, too.” She sighed after that, and then she went to sip from her glass.
Bishop must’ve been listening, because he leaned on the table and asked, “So, I take it that means you don’t currently have a boyfriend?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I’ve actually never—” Angel stopped at that, her eyes widening. She looked from me to Bishop as a sheepish smile crossed her face. “Forget it. Please, forget I said that.” She let out a cute nervous chuckle.
Bishop’s gaze widened, and he looked at me, wordlessly asking if I caught it. And I did. Oh, boy, I definitely did. It sure sounded like she was about to say she’d never had a boyfriend before.
Let’s just say that was a bit of information I was delighted to hear—just don’t ask me why. I wouldn’t have an answer for you.
The rest of the night went by in a blur. I went up again a few times. Tried to drag Angel with me, but she vehemently refused to sing with me. Seemed stupid, since we’d start singing together soon enough, but I think it was due to the fact she was a wee bit embarrassed for admitting to Bishop and me that she’d never had a boyfriend before.
I mean, if she’d never had a boyfriend before, did that mean she’d also never been kissed? I’d gladly change that, if she asked.
Bishop went up and did a song by a nineties band. Deacon refused to leave the bar. I had to abandon Angel to sit on the other side with Hailee and Tara, and I tried to focus on them, but damn it, it was hard.
No, not just hard. More like impossible.
Even though I had two beautiful girls in next to me, two girls who, if I gave them the signal, would follow me anywhere I went and probably do whatever I wanted them to do, I couldn’t stop thinking about Angel.
I know, I know. I was being fucking dumb.
We stayed well into the night. It was about one in the morning when we funneled out of the bar. We’d driven in my car—I’d only had the one drink right when we got there, so I’d be driving us back. Deacon had been drowning himself in drinks the entire time, mister pissy face, so when he walked he mostly stumbled.
We made it to the parking garage down the block, and as the others went ahead, Hailee and Tara stopped me by the entrance. Hailee hugged herself close to me, puckering her lips with a seductive smile. “You got room for two more?” Beside her, her friend pretended to blush.
If things were different, I would’ve told the guys to get an Uber or something, and then I would’ve gone wherever these two ladies wanted. Their place, a hotel… just not the Redborne.
But things weren’t different, and it wasn’t just the guys I’d be telling to get an Uber. Angel was with them, heading to my car, though she wasn’t oblivious to Hailee or Tara or the reason I’d fallen back with them.
“Oh, I wish,” I told them, giving them a charming smile. “But I can’t tonight. I know it’s a poor second choice, but I could take your numbers instead and hit you up later?”
Neither Hailee nor Tara could hide their disappointment, but in the end, they agreed. I pulled out my phone and added them both, and then I caught up with the others. They’d made it to the car deeper inside the parking garage, and I noticed Angel had taken off her heels, her bare feet on the pavement as she leaned her backside against the door. Deacon was resting his head against the trunk of the sleek car, mumbling something about how he needed to get to bed.
Bishop stood near Angel, and I overheard him say, “You sure you don’t want me to hold those?” Her heels. He was talking about her heels—which she’d actually started to walk in decently, after she’d needed a steadying hand before.
All Angel did was shake her head and yawn.
The car unlocked once I got closer, and everyone funneled in. I got in. Deacon took the front passenger seat while Angel and Bishop shared the back. I made sure to move the mirror so I could see her, not Bishop.
At least there was a space between them, so they weren’t on top of each other in the back.
Now that Angel had turned down his offer to carry her heels, Bishop spoke, “I’m surprised you didn’t tell us to find another way home. Those girls were all over you, Priest.” As if it was necessary—which it wasn’t—he added, “I think this is the first time ever we’re actually going home together at the same time.”
That was meant for Angel to hear, I bet. Don’t worry. I knew the perfect way to get him back.
Bishop had a thing for Angel. It was obvious as hell. Even if the whole hand-on-the-waist thing didn’t happen, it’d still be obvious. The way he looked at her, especially when she wasn’t paying attention, how he practically jumped up to do whatever she wanted, offering to carry her freaking heels… and that said nothing about the way he talked to her. When he was talking to Angel, his voice got softer, gentler. He transformed into a whole different person.
As I drove us home, the last thing on my mind were the two chicks who’d glommed onto me all night. The city streets were pretty empty, so it didn’t take long to reach the Redborne’s parking garage. During the day, the Redborne had a valet, but after midnight and before six-thirty in the morning, it became your job to park your car and fetch it if you needed it.
I pulled into my parking spot, lucky sixty-nine, and turned my car off. Everyone got out, and I shit you not, it was like fate: Angel stepped on a rock with her bare feet and winced. She sighed and was about to slip on her heels again, but that’s when I noticed the skin on the backs of her heels had gotten rubbed raw from the shoes.
She must not be used to wearing heels like that.
That’s when I knew what I had to do. I’d help Angel and make a point to Bishop.
I hurried around my vehicle, and before Angel could slip on her heels, I scooped her up. Like, literally scooped her up in my arms. One arm under the crook of her knees, and the other around her back. She was so caught off-guard by my act of scooping that she let out a gasp and stared at me with wide eyes.
“What are you—” she started to say, while Bishop only glared. Deacon was too busy minding his drunk self to really pay attention to what was going on. Angel held onto her heels with a tight grip, and she struggled in vain for me to put her down.
“Your feet hurt,” I said, starting the walk away from my car while carrying her. “And if my angel is in pain, I will do whatever I can to alleviate it.” She weighed next to nothing. Or maybe my strength was just that great. Either way, I could easily carry her all the way up to our suite without breaking a sweat.
And this time Bishop could be the jealous one.
“I can walk myself,” Angel was busy saying, but I heard none of it. Bishop didn’t go to argue with me, probably because arguing with me would mean he’d be arguing for Angel to walk on her injured feet, and that’d be an asshole move.
“A good prince never puts his princess in danger, and that includes from her own two feet,” I proclaimed loudly as we walked through the parking garage, toward the elevator that would take us to the lobby. From there, we’d have to hop out and get on one of the other elevators that took you up.
Angel stopped struggling to stare at me. “You’re a prince now? Since when?”
I grinned. “You wound me, Angel.” To Bishop, I said, “Could you hit the button, my good sir?” I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t getting a kick out of the scowl on Bishop’s face. Usually he was a good sport, but something about Angel made him a bit more prickly than usual.
Something about Angel. If that wasn’t the heart of it right there, I didn’t know what was.
Bishop said nothing as he hit the up button on the elevator.
All Angel did was roll her eyes and turn her face away from me, almost like she didn’t want to gaze up at me while I carried her. I tried my best to not to glance at her, but man, was it hard. The feistiness was fun.
Up we went. I received a questioning look from the gentleman working the front desk as we stepped out of the elevator and headed towards the main ones, but he said not a word. Bishop flashed him a Redborne ID card as we walked by. After a certain time, everyone who came in had to show some kind of ID. Lucky for us, this worker was accustomed to us coming and going at all hours.
Once we made it onto the other elevator, Bishop pushed the button without needing to be told. Deacon had to hold onto the railing inside the small square elevator to steady himself, and he hid his eyes with his free hand to shield them from the light.
Did the guy really drink that much? It was like he was hungover already.
Angel yawned, and she didn’t say a word as she turned her face toward my shoulder and leaned her cheek on it. She must not be used to such long days—something that would change in the future. Or she’d learn to sleep in whenever she could. Whatever feistiness she’d shown me in the parking garage was replaced by sheer exhaustion.
She must’ve sensed my smirk, because she muttered, “Shut up.”
I didn’t say anything, so it only made me smirk harder.
The elevator took us to our floor, and we walked out, Bishop taking the lead as he pulled our suite key out of his back pocket. He opened the door and held it with his foot to let me and Angel in, and he glared at us all the while, even as Deacon shuffled by.
Okay, he glared at me, not at Angel.
I ignored the others, taking Angel straight to her bedroom. The lights were off, and I kept them that way. Bishop must’ve flicked the hall light on, because as I neared her bed, the light in the hall illuminated everything in her room in a dull yellow glow.
I laid Angel down on her bed, and she went right down, not putting up a fight. She rolled onto her side and dropped her heels onto the floor. Even though I knew Bishop was probably right outside in the hall, eavesdropping, I found myself kneeling beside her bed, lowering my body to get at her level.
“You were great tonight,” I whispered.
She yawned again, and she didn’t try to hide it behind a dainty hand. “You weren’t bad yourself, as much as I hate to admit it,” Angel spoke with a sigh. Her eyes were open, but they were half-lidded in tiredness. Her head rested on her pillow, her hair splayed around her face in the semi-darkness.
I leaned my arms on the edge of her bed, resting my chin on the one on top. “I didn’t think you were listening. You hardly watched me at all when I was on stage.” For years, I’d been okay being the backup vocalist for our songs because I was fine with Pope taking the center stage. Besides, girls went nuts for a guy who could play guitar, probably more so than the singer.
But now… things were going to be different, and this girl was going to be my co-star on the stage.
“You already had an audience,” she referenced those two chicks. “It felt weird to watch you while you were singing to them.”
I guess my flirtatious nature bit me in the ass tonight, because none of the songs had been meant for Hailee or Tara. No, every single song, even the duet, was meant for Angel. To impress her. To show her that I could rise up and be the face of this band with her at my side.
God, I wished we would’ve sang a duet together tonight. I wished she would’ve been on that stage with me instead of Hailee.
But I didn’t say any of that. Instead, I forced out a smile as I asked, “Need any help getting out of that dress?”
She set a hand on my face and pushed me away from her bed. “Get out,” she told me as I dramatically fell backward onto my ass. “I want to go to bed.” As if to prove her point, she rolled over and gave me her back.
I was sluggish in getting to my feet. “All right, all right. No need to resort to violence. I was only trying to be a good friend.” Anyone with ears would know that was a lie, but thankfully she didn’t address it.
I walked toward her door, feeling… I didn’t know, something strange inside. Something I couldn’t quite describe. Whatever that bizarre feeling was, it made me stop once I reached her door and toss a look over my shoulder, at her darkened figure on the bed.
With my body blocking out much of the hallway’s light, her room was even darker. The shadow of my frame landed just before her bed. “Goodnight, Angel,” I said, my hand curling around the doorknob. I went to close the door.
I assumed she’d ignore that, but right before the door latched, I heard her say, “Goodnight, Priest.” Such a soft, gentle tone, opposite of the one she usually took with me, and it made me stand outside her closed door for a few moments, fighting to get my breathing under control.
That feeling inside… I think I knew what it was.
I wanted to go back into that room, crawl onto that bed with her, and hold her. We didn’t even need to have sex. I’d be happy just to hold onto her all night.
A cough alerted me to Bishop’s presence a bit further down the hall, and as I met his hazel stare, I gave him a stern expression. “What?” I asked in a huff as I walked around him to get to my room. Deacon must’ve already disappeared into his.
Thankfully, Bishop didn’t say anything. It was a good thing he didn’t, because I had no idea what I’d tell him. I went to my room, shut the door, and headed to the bathroom, where I stripped down and hopped in the shower.
I wasn’t one of those people who could crawl into bed after a long day and fall asleep. I needed to rinse the day off. Clean body, clean sheets. The only time I wanted dirty sheets was after a long session of fucking.
The hot water pelted my back, and I stood there, arms outstretched, hands splayed on the tile, wondering what tonight was about. I mean, what the actual fuck was wrong with me? I barely knew Angel. Getting jealous over the fact that Bishop had a hand on her, that she seemed to pay more attention to him than to me…
It was stupid. Childish. Ridiculous in every way. I knew that, and yet that didn’t stop me from feeling this way.
Carrying her up here was supposed to be an alpha move, a way to show Bishop he wasn’t the only one that could get close to her if he wanted, but I think the whole thing had backfired on me, because now all I could think about was how soft her skin was.
Was every inch of her body that soft?
I ran a hand over my face. Shit, no. I wasn’t supposed to think about that. Angel was a bandmate. Bandmates were off-limits. Ramona had told us that herself.
Maybe it was the fact that I’d been told I couldn’t have her, so I automatically wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anyone in my entire life. Yeah, that had to be it.
Angel being gorgeous didn’t help at all, nor did her big, blue eyes. Knowing how soft her skin was would only drive me crazier—and that said nothing about the fact that she’d never had a boyfriend before.
Did that mean she was a virgin? Did that mean no guy had ever tasted the sweetness between her legs? There was something so satisfying and fulfilling about knowing you were the only one…
Of course, it was clear I wasn’t the only one for any of the girls I’d been with. And I’d been fine with that. I never minded. It just meant the chicks knew what to do, and that always made for a better time.
But Angel, God, everything was suddenly so mixed up. It was hard for me to think straight.
I finished washing up, though I mainly just rinsed off. After drying off, I crawled into bed. I’d grabbed my phone out of my pants. When I unlocked it, the screen was still on my phone’s contacts. I put in Tara’s number second, so her name sat at the top of the screen.
I could’ve had a wild night with those two, I just knew it. I could’ve stayed up all night with them, getting to know them each in the most intimate, primal way, and yet… it was so weird. The more I stared at her name on my phone, the more I didn’t want it on there at all.
My finger went to the tiny dots in the corner, hovering over it for a long while. I didn’t know what got into me. I didn’t know why my gut was telling me to do something I normally wouldn’t. It wasn’t like I was a new man with new wants and desires. I still wanted sex. I still loved attention from beautiful ladies. I…
I deleted Tara’s contact info, and then Hailee’s—and then I went and deleted a whole bunch of others.
I guess, maybe, I was turning over a new leaf, and there was only one possible reason why.