He laughs at my poor excuse of a joke. “You’re Arrow’s now. No one would dare touch you.” In his room, Tracker turns and looks down at me. “I want to ask Lana out,” he says.
I should have seen this one coming.
“And?”
“And I want you to tell me where her favorite place to eat is,” he says, blue eyes pleading with mine.
I cross my arms over my chest. “You know I love you, Tracker, but for fuck’s sake, Allie still lives here with you! I don’t think you should ask anyone out, especially Lana, until you sort out your shit.”
His expression darkens, but I don’t regret my words. They’re the truth—whether he wants to hear them or not.
“You don’t think I’m good enough for her?” he grits out, jaw tense.
“Tracker—”
He laughs mirthlessly. “Look, I know no one is probably good enough for Lana; I see what she’s worth. But it’s nice to know that someone I consider a good friend doesn’t see my worth.”
“Tracker—”
He opens the door to his room and walks out, leaving me sitting here alone, feeling like complete shit. I sit there for a few minutes, thinking. I see a pad of paper and a pen by the bed. It’s pink, so I’m assuming it’s Allie’s. I rip off a sheet and write Tracker a note.
You’re wrong; I know what you’re worth.
But do you?
I’m sorry I’m a jerk.
Love, Anna Bell.
Why does he keep Allie around? As a safety net? Is it a comfort thing? I have no idea, but I realize I’m being judgmental and poking my nose into shit that’s not really my business. I’m very protective of Lana, but I should be asking her if she wants this. It’s not my decision to make. I leave the note on his bed, then go to find Rake.
We have some catching up to do.
* * *
Wetness on my face.
I force my eyes open and stare up at Rake, who is dripping water on my face from a water bottle.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask, sitting up and looking for something to throw at him.
“You fell asleep,” he says, shaking his head. “Some party animal you are.”
“What time is it?” I ask, rubbing my eyes with the bottom of my palm.
“One a.m., Anna, let’s go out!” he says cheerfully, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
I blink. “Are you on drugs?”
It’s a legitimate question with the way he’s acting.
“You want to go where?” I ask. We’d hung out all day, went to see a movie, spent some time playing pool, and had dinner. Then, everyone started drinking and I may have joined in for one or two drinks.
Or five.
“Let’s go to the club,” he says. “Rift, remember?”
“The one you guys dragged me out of last time?” I ask in a dry tone.
Good times.
“Yep,” he says, starting to tip more water on me.
“Do it and die!” I yell, standing up and pushing my hair out of my face. “Let me get dressed.”
“You have ten minutes,” he says. “I’m going to round everyone up.”
I look at him and only just notice he’s dressed and ready to go, in jeans and the black T-shirt I bought him when I first came back.
“Fine,” I say, following him to the door and locking it as he leaves. I’m wearing jeans and a plain white top, which won’t do. Knowing I don’t have time for a shower, I wash my face, brush my teeth, and put on some light makeup. My hair looks like I just got fucked, but there’s no fixing it. I get changed into tight jeans and a black top that shows off my stomach. I slide my feet into some stiletto heels, spritz a little perfume, and grab my handbag on the way out.
Rake, Tracker, Trace, Sin, and Vinnie are standing in the game room, laughing and drinking. They all look at me as I walk in.
“What?” I ask, feeling a little self-conscious.
“You actually got dressed in like fifteen minutes,” Tracker says, any earlier anger vanished. “Impressive. Arrow is a lucky fucker.”
That earns him a slap on the back of the head from Rake.
I roll my eyes and look at Sin. “Is Faye coming out?”
He shakes his head but gives no explanation for her absence.
Okaaaay then.
“Where’s Arrow?” I ask Tracker. He still hasn’t contacted me since last night, and I’m really put out over it.
“He’ll be at Rift,” Tracker replies, then snaps his head back to me. “And you need to be on your best behavior because men from other Wind Dragon chapters are going to be there tonight.”
“Define best behavior.”
“Have fun but keep your mouth shut,” he replies. “And stick to us at all times.”
I can do that.
Maybe.
He hands me my drink, and I take a sip.
Then I cough. “Holy shit, Tracker!”
He chuckles. “What? Can’t handle a little vodka?”
“Not straight! I’m not an alcoholic, you bastard!” I snap, putting my drink back down.
“Why are you grumpy?” he asks. “You had a nap and everything.”
Rake laughs.
I pick up a pool cue and threaten them with it.
They laugh harder.
“Why am I the only woman going out tonight?” I ask the group of them.
They all look at one another.
“The other women know their place,” Tracker inserts, laughing at his own joke.