Page 68 of Ticket to the Stars: Part Two

Bishop brought me before my plate, and I saw some kind of pasta with white alfredo sauce. Across the island, Priest said, “We figured pasta for the carbs, because we’re going to need alotof energy tonight.” He gave me his lopsided smile, and my stomach did a flip.

Both Priest and Bishop wore the shirts I’d gotten them, too, proudly displaying the logo of the college I would’ve been at if things had gone differently.

I was glad they hadn’t, though.I couldn’t be happier with the way things had turned out.

I got onto the stool, and Bishop took the spot to my right. Across from us, neither Deacon nor Priest moved a muscle, not right away. I looked at them. “Aren’t you guys going to sit with me?” There were four plates, so obviously they were going to, but… they must’ve been waiting for something.

Neither one of them moved. A minute passed, and then Deacon coughed and elbowed Priest on the side. Priest blinked, said “Oh, yeah,” and reached into what must’ve been his back pocket, because he pulled out a folded piece of paper and slid it toward me.

“Before you eat,” Deacon said, “we want you to open that.”

I was smiling. I couldn’t help it. The guys were acting so weird, you’d think they were about to tell me something earth-shattering. I grabbed the folded paper and opened it, dropping my eyes to the mostly blank sheet.

Just two words on the paper. Just two.

Two names, I should say.

Matt and Jake.

Two very normal names, names you’d never link to rock stars. When what I was seeing finally registered, I glanced up at the guys across from me. My mouth was open, but no words came out.

“We’re not telling you who’s who,” Priest said, still grinning, “so you’re just going to have to guess.”

I chuckled. “You’re making me guess?” These guys were so ridiculous. God, I loved them so much. Nothing was ever boring with them, that’s for sure.

“Yep. And if you happen to guess correctly, then we’ll show you our other surprise.” Priest lifted an arm and set it around Deacon’s shoulders, making Deacon scowl, but he didn’t seem to care. “So, tell us, love, who’s who?”

“How about,” I paused as I set the paper down, “I tell you my name and you show me your other surprise anyway?” Both Priest and Deacon sucked in a hard breath, and I giggled. To be completely honest, I was shocked Bishop hadn’t told them my name. I’d heard Priest badgering him about it on more than one occasion.

“That,” Priest spoke as he pulled his arm off Deacon so he could lean on the island across from me, “seems like a reasonable compromise. Should we spit on it?” Silence was his only answer, and he was quick to add, “Okay, no spitting. Got it.”

“Maggie. My name is Maggie. Also Mags, to my friends, which I really only have the one now, if we’re not counting you three.” It was like I was telling the guys the last thing they didn’t know about me, and ironically, it was one of the most important things. Intimate. After all, names were usually the first thing you knew about someone.

Deacon whispered my name like it was a prayer, “Maggie.”

“Mags,” Priest repeated, nodding. “I like it. I like it a lot.”

Something unspoken passed between the guys, and Bishop got up and walked around the island to join the others. They traded looks, and then they simultaneously went to take their shirts off. Deacon had to take off the apron before he could get to his shirt, but once he did, all three of them stood before me, shirtless and one hundred and ten percent sexy in the candlelight.

I spoke slowly as I let my stare take in the magnificently muscled—and in Priest’s case, tattooed—sight before me, “Is my other surprise a strip tease?”

Priest laid on the charm: “You know I’d strip for you any day of the week. All the fair maiden has to do is ask—”

“Guys,” Bishop cut in, the voice of reason, “let’s just turn around and show her.”

The three of them spun around, and though Priest was still mumbling about how he’d give the best lap dance out of the three of them, I stopped listening to him, too busy staring at the new tattoos on their backs.

Centered, at least as big as my hand, maybe more, right on their spine, beneath their shoulder blades, was a brand-new tattoo that I knew for a fact wasn’t on their bodies when I’d left. Black Sacrament’s new logo: an upside-down cross with angel wings sprouting behind it.

But, wait. There was more to it than that.

There were letters, letters near each end of the cross. Letters for each of us. P, D, and B… and an A on the very top.

I slid off the stool, moving around the island to get a closer look. “You got these for me?” My breath caught, my chest heavy. Maybe it was a stupid thing to say, but it felt like my heart was so full in that moment it could burst.

“We wanted to do something that would show you how much you mean to us,” Bishop said.

Deacon said, “That you’re a part of this band and a part of us now.”

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