Chapter Six – Bishop
I stayed out with Angel until seven-thirty. We’d skipped dinner, on purpose, although she had munched on the candy we’d been too busy during the movie to eat on the ride back to the Redborne.
Not going to lie, I was very satisfied with myself. How could I not be? I’d pretty much had my lips locked to hers during that whole movie. Hell, I didn’t even know what it was about. It didn’t matter. Obviously, kissing Angel took priority over damn near everything.
We went upstairs, and during the whole walk, the entire elevator ride, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. She was… God, she was so stunning, even in leggings and a baggy t-shirt. Every time she looked at me, my body reacted. I couldn’t help it.
I think I might love her. Was that too soon to think? Whatever. I didn’t care. I was flying high with her at my side, even if it meant the others might date her, too.
I didn’t know how it was going to work, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized letting jealousy take over wasn’t healthy. It’d destroy our friendship and Black Sacrament. Jealousy was a gut reaction you had, sure, but it was something you could work on, something you could overcome.
And I would. I had to. I didn’t want to lose my friends. We’d already had to cut ties with Pope. I couldn’t lose Priest and Deacon too.
Plus, it was obvious Angel liked them, too. She liked all of us, so why couldn’t we do something a little unconventional? We were a rock band who painted themselves before going on the stage. We were already unconventional.
When the elevator’s doors opened and we stepped out onto our floor, I took Angel’s hand in mine as we walked to our front door. I pulled the key card out of my back pocket. Angel had no idea what she was about to walk into, AKA the reason why we didn’t stop anywhere for dinner.
I opened the door and stepped in first, and I let her hand go to hold the door for her, allowing Angel to step inside and move past me.
The world outside was one of early twilight, the sun just starting its descent. The way our suite faced, we got the sunrise, so right now, from our high angle of the city, you could see how everything had started to darken. All of the lights in the suite were off, but that didn’t mean the place was dark.
No, candles were everywhere. In the kitchen, in the living room, lining the floorboards against the walls. So many freaking candles it was really a fire hazard when you thought about it, but now wasn’t the time for logic. Now was the time for grand and romantic gestures.
I heard Angel suck in a breath as she took it in, slowly walking toward the island in the kitchen, where a covered tray rested near the stools. “What?” she asked, glancing at me before looking all around again. “What is this?”
I said nothing, and when she met my eyes again, I gestured to the hall, where Deacon had appeared. His long hair was drawn back, away from his square face. His jaw was freshly shaven, showing off the hard angles. For once, he did not wear a frown, though he did wear all black, as usual.
“I made you dinner,” Deacon said as he strolled over. He rounded the island and came to stand on Angel’s other side. He plucked the silver lid off the plate before her to reveal his handiwork.
Roasted chicken with mashed potatoes and green beans. I had to admit it smelled delicious.
“I know it’s not much, but… I wanted to apologize for how I am sometimes. It’s not you, it’s me, and I—” Deacon had started to ramble, something very unlike him, but he halted the moment Angel turned her eyes to him.
“It looks amazing. It smells so good, too,” she said, and though I couldn’t see her smile, I’d bet anything she was giving him a full-blown smile. Why else would Deacon be so speechless? That smile of hers could render anybody incognizant. “Thank you.” She leaned closer to him and hugged him.
Deacon appeared surprised, like he wasn’t expecting the hug, because over the top of her head, he met my eyes, almost like he was telling me he didn’t know what to do. I had to shake my head at him, mostly because he was being ridiculous. Everyone knew when someone hugged you, especially if it was the girl you liked and sometimes was a dick toward, you hugged her back.
He finally seemed to get the picture, because after a moment, his arms lifted and wrapped around her shoulders in a slightly awkward hug back. He let her go, and then he wandered to the refrigerator and pulled out a can of Dr. Pepper, Angel’s favorite drink. He got a glass out of the cupboard and poured the contents of the can into it. He then brought that glass to her.
“You know how to treat a lady,” she said, grinning as she took the glass and had her first sip. After setting it down, she picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of pre-cut chicken, but before bringing it to her mouth, she glanced between us. We’d moved to the opposite side of the island. “Did you guys plan this?”
As if on cue, Priest strolled down the hall, cracking his knuckles. He walked toward us, plopping himself in the middle as he draped his arms over both my and Deacon’s shoulders. “We might’ve had a few meetings,” he said as he gave her a lopsided grin.
“Meetings?” Angel repeated, her eyebrows lifting. She began to eat. “How many meetings did you have? And when? I don’t remember hearing any of these meetings.”
“You, Angel, still keep the same sleeping schedule you did before,” Priest rattled off, acting like a know-it-all. “It’s not hard to wait until you’re in bed, fast asleep, and then get with the guys.” He quieted, and for a while, we simply watched her eat.
That was, until Deacon asked, “How is it?”
Angel replied without hesitation, “It’s amazing. I didn’t know you could cook. You’re always just making things in the microwave or reheating leftovers.”
Deacon coughed at that, while Priest finally took his arm off me—only so he could playfully slap Deacon’s chest. “Don’t let him fool you,” Priest said. “He used to cook all the time, back when Pope was around. He was like our personal chef.”
The scowl Deacon always wore returned when he muttered, “I don’t know about that.”
Priest waved him off. “Ignore him.” He moved toward the island, leaning his tall frame over it as he smirked at Angel. “Take your time, Angel, because when you’re done eating, you’re all mine.”
That got her eyes to widen. “There’s more?”
“Of course,” he said. “We’re pulling out all the stops for you tonight. You’re our angel, after all, even if you don’t want to be ours.” There was a pause before he added, “But if you want to be ours, all you have to do is say so. I’d love to make this thing between us official—”
I interrupted him before he could say anything else, “Let her eat, Priest.” She’d told me earlier what her trepidations were, why she had held back all this time. I’d shot the guys a few texts throughout the day, keeping them in the loop. And the whole wrecking ball thing… I hoped she was starting to understand she could never be that to us.
“You’re right, you’re right,” Priest spoke with a wink toward her. “There will be plenty of time for that later.”
Ugh. Leave it to Priest to be unable to leave it alone.
Angel ate. She practically devoured her plate, and when she was done, she sighed a happy sigh and finished up her Dr. Pepper. “I still can’t believe you can cook, Deacon.”
“I guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Deacon said, eyeing her up from across the kitchen.
“I guess so.” Angel looked like she was going to say more, but Priest hurried around the island and dramatically bowed and offered her a hand.
“My angel,” Priest purred, “tis time for your next surprise.” He spoke with a little bit of an accent, the weirdo. I rolled my eyes at him, while Deacon muttered to go ahead. He’d clean up the kitchen and join us after.
Angel was slow in slipping her hand in his, and the moment Priest’s fingers curled around that hand, he practically glowed. I knew the feeling. Holding onto Angel’s hand was like holding onto the thing you’ve always wanted. Life. Eternity. Sunshine itself. It was impossible to hold her hand and not feel your troubles vanish.
Priest led her away from the kitchen, to the hall, and I followed while Deacon cleaned up. Down the hall, past my room, we stopped once we reached hers, and Priest pushed open the door to reveal a scene similar to the rest of the suite.
The curtains were drawn over the windows on the opposite wall, making the room appear darker. Dozens of candles littered the space; on the floor, on her dressers, on her nightstand. The room itself smelled good, like Angel’s scent lingered on the sheets, in the walls, even when she wasn’t here.
“What is all this?” Angel asked, though her voice got quiet. Looking at all this, I knew what must’ve been the first thing to pop in her head: we were trying to seduce her or something. Which, okay, I didn’t think any of us would say no if she wanted to, you know, get into it, but tonight was about the romance.
Romance and showing her that, yes, we could work together and not bicker. That we could come together and strive to be better for her. I hoped she knew this was all for her.
“Tonight, we are your servants,” Priest mused as he led Angel to the bed. “How about a massage or two?” When Angel only looked at him, he added, “Please don’t tell me that we practiced on each other for nothing.”
That got her to laugh. “You practiced on each other? You massaged each other? Where the heck was I when all this was going on?”
It was my turn to shrug. “You did hide from us a lot, so…”
“So it was easy,” Priest said. “Not exactly what I’d call a fun time, but—” He finally let her hand go, but only so he could weave his fingers together, turn his palms outward, and crack his knuckles. “—these hands are ready to make you feel things, Angel.”
Priest instructed Angel to climb onto the bed. She slipped off her socks and wiggled her toes as Priest climbed onto the bed with her, positioning himself near her feet. He took her right foot and started to work it, and instantly she fell back and closed her eyes. A soft moan escaped her, and she whispered, “Oh, God.”
Priest tossed a glance over his shoulder, as if trying to tell me I told you so . I thought offering to massage her was going a little overboard, but apparently it was the right call, because she absolutely melted when Priest started.
I walked around the bed and got on the other side, mimicking Priest’s actions on her left foot. She moaned again, and I swore, the sound was one of the best, if not the best, sound I’d ever heard in my entire life. I wanted to memorize it so I could save it for later, when I was alone and replay her soft, feminine sighs in my head whenever I wanted.
Was that creepy?
“How much did you guys practice? Because… wow. You guys could charge for this,” Angel spoke to no one in particular. Her head rested on her pillow, her white hair splayed around her head. Her hands rested on her stomach, her chest rising and falling with slow, even breaths.
“So,” Priest said, “what you’re saying is we should offer our massage services to other girls?”
“That is not what I’m saying. I’m saying you guys could charge, not that you should go out and start a massaging business.”
“Just to be clear.” He was unable to leave it alone, needing a firm answer from her. “We aren’t allowed to massage other girls? You want us all to yourself?” I knew he was trying to get her to admit that she liked us, all of us, but I wasn’t sure she’d fall for it.
Angel’s eyes cracked open, though she only stared at the canopy above us. “You can massage me and each other. That’s it.”
I had to grin at that. She’d answered his question, but not in the way he’d wanted. I’d told her she couldn’t possibly be a wrecking ball, but we couldn’t force her to believe anything. She had to come to the conclusion herself. She had to admit the truth to herself before she admitted it to us.
Priest decided to abandon her foot and say, “You know, it would be easier to do a full-body massage if you were naked.” That got her to sit up and glare at him, causing him to quickly add, “We could put a sheet over that cute ass of yours, if that’s what you’re worried about, but I do want to get to your back. I’m just guessing, but I bet there’s a lot of tension there.”
“Nice try,” Angel replied. “But I’m not getting naked for you tonight.”
“Ah, so tomorrow, then?”
I’d bet anything if the lights were on, we would’ve seen a blush creeping furiously up her cheeks, but as it was, with only the candlelight, all I could see were shadows. Well, shadows and the adorable pout on her lips.
“In your dreams” was her answer.
“Love,” Priest quipped. “I’ve been dreaming of you since the day we met.”
She gagged. “Does that line really work on other girls?”
“Is it working on you?”
Angel looked like she wanted to say something smart back, but in the end, all she said was, “I’m not taking off my clothes. If you want to massage other parts of me, you’ll have to do it with my clothes on .”
Priest gently nudged my shoulder, and I stopped massaging her left foot and scooted aside. “Roll over,” he told her, and she was slow to do as he’d said. Once she lay on her stomach, he crawled over her, his legs spread on either side of her, and he brought his large hands to her back. “Yeah, you know what? This isn’t going to work.” Before Angel could say anything, Priest yanked her shirt up, revealing the small of her back and her bra strap.
“Hey!” Angel hissed.
“Oh, hush,” Priest said. “Trust me, it’ll make it better.” He then unhooked her bra and pushed her straps aside. “Don’t you trust me, Angel?”
She was quiet, and she didn’t move a muscle. It took her a few seconds to whisper, “I do.” It almost sounded like she didn’t want to admit it, and once she did, Priest tossed me a smug look, as if checking to make sure I’d heard.
Please. He was acting like she’d said she trusted him more than she trusted me. That was not what was said, but Priest had a habit of hearing what he wanted to.
He drew his hands down her back, the center of his palms near her spine. I sat back and let him have his moment with her, not saying a word—though I did watch him work. I paid attention to what movements and which areas brought out more muffled sounds from her, and I filed that information away for later. Never knew when it’d come in handy. She seemed to really like it when he dragged his hands down to the small of her back.
Honestly, seeing Priest on top of her like this… it was weird. I knew it’d be weird, but it was stranger than I’d expected. Of course, it was only as weird as we made it, so I’d have to make a conscious effort to not think this was weird.
It wasn’t. This was completely normal.
If I repeated that to myself often enough, I’d start to believe it. That was the trick.
“Just think,” Priest spoke, his voice a low whisper as he leaned over Angel. “I could be your personal massage therapist. After every show, after every long night in the studio, we could come back here and I could help you unwind.”
“Mmm. Is that what this is about?” Angel asked, “Trying to butter me up, get me to do what you want?”
“I want you to do what you want, and it just so happens that what you want and what I want are the same. Deacon and Bishop want it, too.” His hands moved to her shoulders. “What’s holding you back?”
When she didn’t respond, I decided to, “She’s worried it’ll explode in our faces.” Even though I’d already told the guys what she’d said earlier, it still bore repeating. We couldn’t let her think that. If she did, she’d never take the leap.
And, God, did I want her to join us and take that freaking leap.
“Angel,” Priest purred out her name in a way I could only describe as seductive. It was his bedroom voice, if I had to guess, the voice that made girls go crazy. “We’re all adults. We know what could go wrong. While you’re too busy worrying, it’s also stopping you from thinking about how great it could be if it didn’t go wrong.”
She hadn’t seen us right after the Pope scandal. How we’d had to kick him out. It was that or Black Sacrament would be dropped from the label completely due to a breach of our contract—a code of conduct had been written into it. We had to have that talk with Pope ourselves, and it hadn’t been pretty.
So, yeah, we could handle hard times. We could deal with stress. Maybe not as good as the next person, but we weren’t strangers to it. Angel couldn’t let herself wallow in the bad what-ifs without giving credit to what good could come from it, too.
“This could be great,” Priest murmured. “We could be great. I know it.” Deacon walked into the room after that, and he tossed a look his way and said, “Deacon, there you are. Come here and help us convince her that we can do this.”
Deacon sat on the bed near me. “If she needs convincing, maybe she’s not into it.”
Priest’s eyebrows furrowed at that, his eyes squinting, the annoyance clear on his face, but Angel started to move, so Priest got off her and let her roll around and sit up. Even though her bra was still undone, she didn’t go to fix it. She only surveyed the three of us and said, “It’s not that I’m not into it. I just… I don’t want to be the last nail in the coffin.”
“This isn’t a coffin,” I said.
“And if it was, you’d be the pretty lacquered top coat, not a nail—” Priest only stopped when Deacon elbowed him, and he feigned injury even though he was the tallest and biggest out of us. “Ow. It might surprise you to know, but I’m very physically fragile.” He smirked and turned his charm onto Angel. “I’m kidding. I’m like a rock. Here, want to touch my abs?” He lifted up his shirt to reveal his toned abdomen.
Angel made no moves to do that.
He didn’t like that. He must’ve thought his abs were magic, because he took her hand and brought it to his abs as he said, “There. Aren’t they nice? Don’t they make you want to, I don’t know, give this whole thing a shot?”
Oh, jeez. Priest’s abs couldn’t be the reason she agreed to be with us. That was just… asinine.
“Do other girls trip over their own feet to be with you once they’ve touched your abs or something?” Angel asked. I could tell she was trying not to sound impressed, but she did come across a little breathless.
“Do you really want to talk about other girls right now?” Priest asked.
“No,” she whispered, taking her hand back. She reached behind her, trying to hook her bra together, but she couldn’t seem to do it. Priest leaped to volunteer himself for the job, scurrying around her to do it without saying a word. Her back was rod straight when he re-hooked her bra, and once it was done, she said, “Thank you.”
Priest came to sit between Deacon and I, and the three of us watched her while she, in turn, watched us. We did a lot of staring, and I wished I could be inside that head of hers. I thought our day together had helped her get some clarity, but maybe not. Maybe she was still as torn as before.
“I guess… a part of me is just worried that you guys will change your mind after, or you’ll decide I’m not worth it or something.” Angel bit her lower lip as she absentmindedly picked at the sheet beneath her. “I can’t shake the doubts. Maybe because I’ve never—”
“Had a boyfriend?” Priest offered helpfully. “Or three at the same time?” Deacon glared at him, but all he did was shrug it off.
I ignored them both and asked, “Is there anything we can do?” It was obvious sweet, romantic gestures were appreciated by her but not enough to sway her—not that I wanted to sway her; more like open her eyes to the truth.
And then it came to me. An option. It wasn’t ideal, but it’d be a way for us to try without putting any pressure on it or each other.
“What if,” I started, pausing to glance at the guys, “what if we did a trial run?”
“A trial run?” Angel repeated.
“Yeah, like a trial relationship. We give it a month or two, see where it goes, how we all handle it, and if, at the end of the period, we decide it’s too hard or too rough on us, we can end it with no hard feelings.” Even as I said it, I knew how I’d feel at the end of the trial run.
I’d still want her. I always would. Seeing her after so long had brought back all of the memories I’d tried to repress. I think, all these years, I’d been fighting a crush on the girl I’d left so long ago, and now that she was here with me, how could I ever look at her and say I didn’t want her?
But this way, it didn’t put pressure on Angel. Maybe she’d see how amazing it could be and she wouldn’t want to stop.
Or maybe it really would blow up in our faces. Who could say for sure?
Angel thought about it. Minutes ticked by, none of us saying a single word. Deacon, Priest, and I were glued to her, watching and waiting for her to say something. She must’ve been weighing the pros and cons of a trial relationship with us, and so much time passed that I started to worry she was going to say no, that she’d let her doubts take charge instead of hope.
But then she gave us an answer, and that answer made me smile the hardest I’d ever smiled in my life: “Okay.” Just one word, but it was enough.
We settled on two months. The guys and I had two months to convince her, to prove to her that we could do this, that it could work. I hoped it would be enough time, because now that I had her back in my life, I’d be damned if I let her go again.