Chapter Twenty-One – Angel
Alexa was frantic when I told her I’d had my first kiss. She’d tried calling me, but seeing as how I was in the suite, with the guys… let’s just say I didn’t trust Alexa not to scream with her excitement for me. Didn’t want another repeat of the conversation I’d had with my sister—although Alexa had no idea that I was here, with Black Sacrament.
I texted her: I can’t talk on the phone now, but I can text. I bit my fingernail. I was sitting on my bed, my legs tucked underneath my butt. I’d gotten no sleep at all last night once Priest and I had come back.
How could I? After kissing him, my mind raced, my skin was all hot, and I couldn’t stop replaying what had happened over and over in my head.
I shouldn’t have let him kiss me. I knew that. And I also knew that being annoyed with him for saying we should keep our make-out a secret was the only logical thing; we’d both been told to stay away from the other. Things weren’t supposed to get complicated between us, at least not more complicated than it already was.
I’d waited until the morning to text Alexa and tell her about my first kiss. I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up seeing her bond with her new roomie; it was my fault I was here and not there. I had no reason to be jealous since I’d chosen this. None at all.
What I did wish, though, was that I could tell her where I was and who I’d kissed. I was pretty sure the addition of those two not so tiny details changed the gravity of the whole story. I mean, I’d kissed Priest, for goodness sake. Priest . He’d pretty much walked me through how to kiss someone.
That was weird, wasn’t it? Weird, but also kind of hot.
Alexa didn’t have classes for a while yet, so her response was immediate: No fair. You better tell me more details than that!
She wasn’t the only one who wanted details. I’d never, ever tell my sister that I’d kissed Priest, but if I did, she’d have a thousand and one questions for me. Then she’d probably tell me I needed to up my game with Bishop and Deacon so I could follow her plan.
You know, the one where she wanted me to have three boyfriends so I could get Mom used to the idea, all so she could roll up with multiple boyfriends once she got older.
Let’s just say my sister would never know I’d kissed Priest.
I bit the inside of my cheek, wondering what I could tell Alexa. I’d been so upset with Priest after hearing him say that I wasn’t his type and he’d never go for me that him kissing me had been the last thing on my mind last night—until he, you know, kissed me.
I settled with saying, He’s hot, but a player. It was a mistake. Of course, I didn’t want to admit it was a mistake to anybody, but what Priest had said last night was true: things were complicated enough.
Plus, someone like Priest could never be nailed down by one woman. Someone like him probably needed a rotation of girls—even though, now that I was thinking about it, he hadn’t really gone out since I’d moved in. As far as I knew, he’d never met up with the two girls from the karaoke bar.
That seemed odd, didn’t it?
A player? Her message read: Girl, you never go for the players. What kind of magic did he put on you? A second passed, and then another message from her said, I hope he was a good kisser, at least.
He was , I sent back. He was a very good kisser.
Ugh, I wish I knew where you were and what you’re doing, because I’m dying to know who this mystery guy is!
I smiled at that. If I could tell her everything, she’d die from the shock. She was right; I never went for the players. Any guy I’d ever crushed on was someone more like Bishop, not Priest. And Deacon? He was too much of an asshole for my tastes.
Seriously , she said in a new message, it’s not fair. I miss you and wish you were here.
Even though there was evidence online of her having fun with her new roomie, I believed her. Alexa was the type of person everyone got along with. She could become fast friends with anybody. I couldn’t blame her new roomie for having fun and living up the college life with her.
There were so many things I wanted to say to her, but I settled for the simplest: I miss you too.
Life wasn’t going to be simple any time soon, that I knew for sure.
Lunch rolled around, and I went to the kitchen to find something to eat. I had to say, these guys did not keep a full fridge. It was honestly kind of annoying. I needed to make a list of what foods to get, and then go to the store myself. Really, the only thing I could find were the frozen foods Deacon liked to eat late at night. I pulled out one of his Hot Pockets and put it in the microwave.
As I hit the buttons to set the time to cook, I heard footsteps, and I turned to see Bishop standing beside me, expectant. His short brown hair was a little messy, but his hazel eyes were crisp and clear. He did not wear a smile, so those dimples of his were MIA. The look he wore was intense, and for a split second I wondered if Priest had already caved and told him what happened last night.
Priest couldn’t even last twenty-four hours? Oof .
“Hey,” Bishop started. He set a hand on the counter to his right, tapping his fingernails on it. “I wanted to talk to you.” Right when I thought, Here it is, here comes the semi-jealous lecture of why I should never have let Priest close enough to kiss me , he went on, “You were pretty upset yesterday. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Oh. Oh . That’s all he wanted to talk about. Right. My, for lack of a better word, pouting. Not going to lie, relief filled me as soon as he said that. I could talk about how I was feeling about yesterday no problem.
“I’m fine,” I said.
He cocked a brow at me. “When girls say they’re fine, usually that means they’re not fine.”
“This time I mean it. I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m over it.” I shrugged. “I had no right to eavesdrop, so we can just forget about it.” Forget about it like you’ve forgotten who I am and how much time we used to spend together as children.
Okay, so maybe I was still a little bitter about that.
But Bishop wasn’t done. He still wanted to discuss it, because he stepped closer, lowered his voice, and said, “I don’t know about the whole eavesdropping thing, but… I can’t forget about it. Priest only said all that because of me. I pushed him. I was—” He swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck. “—jealous, I guess.”
I pretended like his jealousy was news to me, even though in reality I’d detected it a long time ago. “Jealous? Jealous of what?”
“Jealous of Priest. Priest and you,” he said, his stare almost pained as he admitted it. “Watching him hold your hand in the studio, hearing how much stronger you sang when you were holding his hand…” Bishop shook his head. “I was jealous, and I had no right to be.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but anything I might’ve said wasn’t enough. Maybe a part of me was kind of smug about his jealousy; he couldn’t remember me from years ago, but he could get jealous over my closeness to Priest. Yeah, that’s what he deserved.
Not really, but whatever.
Eventually, I said, “I was nervous. Priest was only calming me down.”
“I know, and I had no right to accuse him of catching feelings for you. Priest isn’t the type to catch feelings for any girl, so I should’ve known it was all an act. Really wish he wouldn’t have done it in front of Ramona, though. She’s going to be on all our cases now.” Bishop probably didn’t think anything he’d said was mean or cruel, but that didn’t stop me from flinching at the whole Priest couldn’t catch feelings for anybody bit.
You could never nail down a playboy. Someone who wanted to play the field was not a good guy to have a crush on. Some girls might like to joke about how they could change a man after dating him, but some things you couldn’t change.
The microwave beeped, signaling my Hot Pocket was done, but I found myself asking, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you get jealous?” It was that smug part of me that wanted to know why. In reality, the why wasn’t important, but curiosity got the better of me, and that was why I stood there, staring at Bishop, waiting to hear his answer.
He leaned on the counter, a pensive expression crossing his face. He wouldn’t look at me after that, and I wondered if he wasn’t going to answer. But, after a long thirty seconds, he did answer: “I was jealous because… because I wanted to be Priest. I wanted to be in there, comforting you, making you feel better.”
The truth of his answer was evident by the sheer rawness in his voice, in how he refused to look at me as he said it, as if he was ashamed of feeling that way.
Maybe it was only because I’d just kissed Priest, and so kissing was on my mind, but right then, I wondered what it’d be like to kiss him. To feel his lips on mine and breathe him in in his entirety.
Would Bishop kiss like Priest, or would it be different?
“I shouldn’t have made a big deal about it,” Bishop said, finally looking at me. “We’re like a family, so there’s no room for feelings like that here. It won’t happen again, I promise. No more poking the Priest bear. No more jealousy.” He gave me a smile after that, but there were no dimples, and that told me his smile was a little fake.
Just like his words were.
Because they had to be. You couldn’t just shut jealousy off. If I told him that Priest and I had made out last night, Bishop would probably fly off the handle in jealousy again.
But I wouldn’t tell him. The only thing I did say was, “I appreciate it. Thanks, Bishop.” Just to signal the end of the conversation, because I didn’t want to hear about how it’d never happen again.
Honestly, I kind of liked the idea of two guys fighting over me. I blamed Cleo.