I don’t like the gleam that enters his eyes. “I’ve had grown men too scared to talk back to me.”
I stand straighter. “I know you won’t hurt me. Rake wouldn’t allow it.”
Arrow leans forward, his gaze lowering to my mouth. “You like talking to me. Why?”
My eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“Every time I’m around you. You don’t ignore me. You keep yapping away like I’m your fuckin’ friend or something.”
I purse my lips. “You are my friend.”
Kind of.
Sort of.
Okay, not really.
His lips quirk. “Don’t wanna be your friend, Anna, that’s the whole problem here.”
Well. Okay. The man is honest. Wait, did he mean he just didn’t want to be my friend, or he wanted to be more than friends?
My eyes widen at the possibility.
“Whatever you’re thinking right now, you need to stop.”
“Why do you go to Toxic so much?” I blurt out, wanting to know. There are always available women in the clubhouse, and it’s not like he couldn’t get anyone he wanted.
“Women there know what to expect,” he replies, looking away from me.
“To expect?”
He nods sharply. “They get what they want, and I get what I want. Problem solved. I’m not looking for anything, Anna.”
“Oh,” I reply, feeling stupid.
His finger reaches out and runs down my cheek. I suck in a breath as our eyes connect, confused by what I see there.
Desire.
“You’re beautiful, do you know that? If I was another man, I would be all over you.”
So many questions flash through my mind. Why only if he was another man? Why not now?
I open my mouth, trying to think of a reply, when Rake walks out. Arrow instantly drops his hand from my face and steps away. Rake slaps Arrow on the back in a friendly gesture, then walks over to me.
“Let’s do this,” he says, handing me a helmet. “But next time I get to choose the place.”
I smile, forgetting about Arrow and enjoying Rake’s playful mood. “Deal.”
THREE
I WHISTLE. “Lana, you look smoking hot!”
My best friend turns in a circle, shaking her ass a little as she faces away from me, causing me to break out in giggles. At five foot two, Lana is tiny but curvy in all the right places. She runs her blue-tipped fingernails through her thick dark hair, courtesy of her Greek heritage.
“Thank you,” she replies in her sweet voice, pulling up her strapless black dress. “I’ll start on my makeup while you get in the shower.”
By makeup, she means mascara and eyeliner. It’s the only thing she puts on her face—not that she needs it.
I force myself to get off my soft leather couch. “I can’t believe it’s you dragging me out tonight.”
What a change of events.
Lana grins. “You’ve made me go out every weekend since you got back, and now I find myself enjoying it.”
“Good,” I tell her, my lips twitching. “I better get my ass ready then.”
“Yes, you better,” Lana replies, fiddling with her dark locks once more. “I thought we could check out a couple of bars, broaden our horizons.”
I blink. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
Lana hates change. She always has.
We’ve been friends since kindergarten. I have a picture of us together on my bedside table, wearing hideous dresses and hugging each other at the tender age of four. We stayed friends even when I left town, keeping in touch via e-mail and phone. She’s the best friend any girl could ask for. She’s honest, loyal, and sweet and has always been there for me when I’ve needed her. She has a kindness about her that people seem to gravitate toward, and I was no exception. Growing up, I needed that kindness, that softness. My mother’s addiction meant that more often than not, Adam and I were left to fend for ourselves. Sometimes my mother would forget to pack us lunch and we were left to go hungry. I would meet Lana at school, and she would share her food with me, without comment or judgment. She really is a shining star.
“I just need a distraction right now,” she mutters so quietly I almost don’t hear it.
My head snaps to her. “From what? What’s wrong?”
She sighs and pins me with her dark eyes. “Nothing is wrong, it’s just . . .”
“What?”
She bites her bottom lip, hesitating. “Promise you will never repeat this.”
“You know I won’t.”
“I can’t stop thinking about Tracker,” she blurts out, then covers her face with her hands.
My eyes widen. Lana has met Tracker twice now, both at times when my brother has sent him to keep an eye on me.
“I knew it!” I yell, doing my victory dance, which consists of jumping up and down and shaking my booty.
Lana winces at my loudness and sighs. “Tell me how stupid I am.”
“You’re not—”
“He’s taken,” she says, counting one finger. “He’s a biker.” Another finger.
“Hey! So is my brother,” I add, smirking.
“Anna! He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, and I’m sick of thinking about him. Time to move on. Out with the old and in with the new,” she says animatedly, smoothing down her dress.
“So that’s why you’re wearing the smallest piece of clothing I’ve ever seen you in and want to go out and party?” I ask, blinking slowly a few times. “Lana, you’re gorgeous. If Tracker wants to stay with someone like Allie, then that’s his loss. There are plenty of men out there who would love to call you their own.”