“Where’s Rake?” I ask him, the ends of my damp hair dripping down my back.
“Why?” he asks, tilting his head and staring at my body. At least what he could see of it.
“I need to borrow something to wear,” I explain, pointing to my towel-clad body.
Arrow stands, and it’s then I realize he’s wearing nothing except a pair of shorts, sitting low on his lean hips. I blink slowly as I take him in, ripped abs, broad shoulders, muscular arms and pecs that I wouldn’t mind sinking my teeth into. Don’t get me started on that beard again. It’s fucking sexy.
“You done?” he asks in a low tone I’ve never heard him use before.
I clear my throat. “I need clothes.”
“I got that,” he says, scratching his chest lazily. “I was waiting for you to finish eye-fucking me.”
“I wasn’t—”
He walks away. Rude.
So rude.
But then he comes back, holding a white T-shirt and a pair of shorts.
“Thank you,” I say softly, taking the items from his hand. His fingers touch mine, and something passes between us. I know he feels it too, because he pulls his hand back like it’s on fire.
“I mean it, Arrow,” I rasp. “Thank you, for last night with Jacob.”
He bobs his head. “Don’t thank me, Anna. Rake isn’t the only one who wanted to kill him.”
“But you didn’t,” I say. “And thanks for not saying anything or making it a big deal.”
He sighs. “Your brother knows what happened, but I told him you didn’t want to talk about it and that I handled it.”
Which is why I appreciated it so much.
“I owe you one.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Anna,” he says quietly.
I swallow. “Okay then. Maybe we could—”
He cuts me off. What was I going to say anyway? Maybe we could hang out sometime?
Christ.
“Don’t open the door in your towel again, Anna,” he rasps. “Some of the men might take it as an invitation.”
“But not you?” I ask, unable to stop myself.
“Trust me, darlin’, you don’t want my brand of fucked-up,” he says before he walks away. I stare at his retreating back until he’s out of sight.
He thinks he’s fucked-up?
Well, who isn’t?
I close and lock the door and dress in the T-shirt and shorts. I put on last night’s bra but go without panties, then head to the kitchen in search of food. There’s a bald guy in the kitchen—Vinnie, I remember his name is.
“Hey, Vinnie,” I say, taking the milk out of the fridge.
“Hey,” he replies, and slides over the box of cereal in front of him. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” I reply, grabbing a bowl and spoon and sitting down opposite him. I tip out the cereal, smother it in milk, then scoop up a huge mouthful.
“When’s the last time you ate?” he asks with a grin.
“Very funny,” I reply with an eye roll.
Two women walk into the kitchen wearing nothing but makeup piled on their faces. Vinnie looks at my expression and laughs.
“They can take the time to put on more makeup than any woman should be wearing, but they can’t put on clothes?”
He laughs harder.
“I’m serious! This is why I don’t like coming here.”
Poor Lana will walk out and get the shock of her life.
“Rake wanted me to stay naked,” one of them says to me. She speaks in a fake baby voice that makes me cringe. Why do women do that? It’s not cute.
“Well, then you better do exactly as he says,” I tell her in a sarcastic tone.
“Oh, we do,” the other one replies, either ignoring or misunderstanding my condescending tone.
“Plus we know how amazing we look, so why not show it off?”
I’m all for women feeling comfortable in their skins, no matter what shape or size, but walking around naked in a house filled with people? I don’t know what to say.
“I can actually feel my IQ dropping, just being in their presence,” I mutter to Vinnie, who chuckles. Was one of these women with Arrow? Maybe she was the one he was with last night. I dig my nails into my palms.
Don’t let it get to you. He isn’t yours.
Tell my stupid heart that.
Speaking of the devil, Arrow walks in, now freshly showered and dressed in jeans and a tight black T-shirt, molded to his impressive physique.
“Arrow!” the brunette squeals, walking over to him and rubbing her breasts against his chest. He glances at me for a sec, then turns to her, his hand going to her shoulder.
I look down into my cereal, grab the spoon, and shovel in a few more mouthfuls, wanting to get the hell out of here as soon as possible. My day gets even worse when Allie walks in, her nose in the air like always.
“Anna,” she purrs. “Still here, I see. What a fuckin’ shame.”
“I can see why you would see it that way,” I reply, playing on her known weakness of insecurity. “Since I’m so close with Tracker and all.”
She gives me a dirty look and flips her hair over her shoulder. “Like he’d even look in your direction.”
I sigh exaggeratedly. “You’d be surprised.”
“Anna,” Arrow says, his voice filled with warning.
What? She started it.
I chance a look at him. He’s now standing away from the brunette, watching me. I glance around the room.