Page 14 of Ticket to the Stars: Part One

She pretended she didn’t hear me, but that was fine. If there was one thing I was, it was persistent, especially when it came to making the chicks fall for me. Angel would be no different. Soon enough I’d have her laid out under me, clothes off, and I’d worship every inch of that body. By the time she left my bed, she’d have no memory of any other guy.

Now that was a promise.

Chapter Seven – Angel

I hated my new name, if you could even call it that. When Priest said it, it sounded like a nickname, a term of endearment. When he called me Angel, it was like he was calling me babe or sweetheart or even love.

Ugh. It sucked.

What sucked even more was that Priest was here and he was obviously a huge flirt. Ramona saying I was off-limits clearly wasn’t enough of a barricade to stop him. He’d keep trying, and I had the feeling that, even if I told Ramona about that whole conversation and how close he’d gotten to me, he wouldn’t stop.

So I had to have enough backbone for the two of us. A sexy, flirty guy did not automatically mean I’d fall over and spread my legs for him. Priest could screw off. In fact, the other two members of this band could also screw off.

Even if Ramona hadn’t laid out the rules, it would be a bad idea to get involved with any of them. Mixing professional and personal would only blow up. I mean, I’d never had a boyfriend before. I’d never been kissed. Whenever it finally happened, odds were I’d be a mess, and I didn’t need to deal with that while also dealing with all of this.

Plus, these guys were probably used to girls throwing themselves at them constantly. They could have STDs or STIs or whatever they were called now. No thanks to all of that.

I refused to leave my room now that Priest was here. I lay on my bed and texted Alexa, telling her I missed her already. Then I texted my mom to tell her the same thing. Neither one texted me back right away, leaving me to lay there on an unfamiliar bed and stare at an unfamiliar ceiling.

Could I really do this? It was too late to do anything about it now.

Four-thirty rolled around, and I heard a stern voice being raised out there: Ramona. Though her voice was muffled, I imagined she was yelling at Priest for coming here early, scolding him as best she could.

She’d probably scold him harder if I told her how flirty he’d been with me from the first moment we’d met. But I had to have a backbone; I couldn’t go running to Ramona any time one of these guys made me uncomfortable. I had to learn to stand up for myself when it came to these three guys.

Of course, I’d only met Priest, so I couldn’t really say how the other two would act around me. We’d cross that bridge when we got to it.

Eventually, I heard footsteps down the hall, and a knock on my door. “Come in,” I said, assuming it was Ramona—and it was. She poked her head in, spotted me on the bed, and sighed as she walked in, telling me just how frustrated she was with Priest.

“I’m so sorry about that one,” she told me, walking over to my bed. She sat down beside me. “Usually they’re all good at listening, but I guess the temptation of a new girl in their ranks was a little too strong for Priest to ignore.” She shot me a look. “I hope he didn’t make you feel too uncomfortable.”

I didn’t know what Priest told her about our first interaction, but I decided that I wouldn’t tattle. I could handle all the flirting in the world; I’d shut him down every single time. “No,” I told her. “He was fine. I just wasn’t expecting him to come so soon.”

Ramona nodded, her wild black hair free of her earlier bun, its long lengths falling down her back. “Bishop and Deacon are on their way here. You might have some trouble with Deacon, but Bishop’s a good kid. Do you want to come out, or do you want to wait in here until everybody’s here? I can come back and grab you.”

I swung my legs off the side of the bed. “I guess I’ll come out.”

Ramona gave me a smile, but she said not another word. She headed for the door, and I followed her, squaring my shoulders and holding my head high as I trailed after her down the hall.

Priest had turned on the TV, though his eyes were on his phone. He’d propped up his long legs onto the couch, but the moment we appeared—or the moment I appeared, more likely—he sat up and grinned.

“Enjoy your beauty nap, Angel?” he asked.

I’d never told him I was napping, but whatever. “Yeah,” I said, matching his smile with one of my own. I sat down on a different couch, and I never once broke the staring contest between us.

Ramona might’ve sensed something, because her black eyes kept flicking between us. Her eyebrows had furrowed just a little, and her mouth had thinned. For once, she wasn’t on her phone, too busy watching Priest and me interact.

Eventually, Priest said, “Do you think Deacon will even show? He’s been grumbling about having someone forced down our throats ever since you told us.” That must’ve been directed to Ramona, because he then grinned harder and added, “Not that I mind you at all, Angel.”

“He better be,” Ramona spoke, gruff. “He’s walking on thin ice as it is. Out of the three of you, he’s the only one who never publicly spoke out against his brother’s actions.” She started to pace the living room.

“Deacon, huh?” I asked, trying to put it all together. It’d be easier once I met everyone. Reading up on them online was a poor substitute for actually seeing their faces. And, let me be the first to say, Priest looked way different than I thought he would.

Like, he looked a little terrifying all done up in black, with his mask and those upside-down white crosses under the eyeholes on the mask. Here? He looked like the typical playboy: someone who knew they were tall and good-looking, with the confidence to match.

Priest glanced over his shoulder at Ramona. “Did you tell her about Pope?”

“No, but I’m sure she looked it up” was Ramona’s fast reply.

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