“Yes, but I’m not asexual,” I reply dryly, walking farther into the room and sitting on my new bed.
“To me you are,” I hear him mutter. “Look, Anna, now that you’re back here . . . I want to be here for you, like I haven’t always been in the past.”
Ahh, the infamous Jacob incident.
“That wasn’t your fault,” I say for the hundredth time.
He ignores me.
“Do you wanna get a drink?” he asks, the conversation clearly over. “You can tell me how your week has been.”
“Sure, I could use a drink.”
I wonder if Arrow will share his bottle.
TWO
I SIT at the clubhouse bar sipping on my screwdriver, sandwiched between Rake and Tracker.
“Where’s Allie?” I ask the man on my right.
Not that I like her, I ask just to make conversation.
Tracker’s reply is a non-amused grunt.
I grin into my drink. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Anna Bell, you are too young to understand the concept of—”
“I’m the same age as you,” I cut in in a bored tone.
We both turn to look at each other. “You’re twenty-five? You look nineteen.”
“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment,” I mutter, lifting the glass and tipping its contents into my mouth.
“As you should,” he replies.
I chew on an ice cube and say, “Your woman doesn’t like me very much.”
“She doesn’t like anyone.”
I don’t miss the way he downs his Scotch, drinking every drop in his glass.
“Except you,” I add with a grin.
He smirks. “Who doesn’t like me?”
I go to raise my hand, but he grabs my wrist and holds it down playfully. “Bully.”
“How’s school, Anna?” Rake asks, pulling my attention to him. His knuckles are bruised and red, and I can’t help but wonder what exactly he’s been up to.
Maybe I don’t want to know.
“Great, actually. I ran into a friend of yours . . . Andrea?”
His brows furrow in confusion. “Who’s that?”
Seriously? How many women does he sleep with?
“Model-looking redhead. She has a tattoo on her right boob. A cherry, I believe,” I explain, ignoring Tracker’s amused chuckle.
My brother’s eyes widen with realization. “Oh, Andrea.”
“Yes, Andrea.”
“What did she tell you?” he asks as he pours himself another drink.
I shrug. “Nothing much, just how great a lover you are and how you have a kinky side because you like to—”
He puts his hand over my mouth, cringing. “That bitch told you that?”
“That and more,” I reply, my voice muffled under his hand. I cringe at the details she thought to share with me. How Rake likes to tie women up, their hands bound behind their back as he takes them from behind. Why? Just why would I want to know these things? I ended up walking away because she wouldn’t shut the hell up. It was that or punch her in the face. The angel on my shoulder won, and I retreated to pretend I’d never heard anything about my big brother’s sex life.
“Bitch goes to college?” Tracker asks, laughing hard now. He slams his palm down on the countertop, his wide shoulders shaking.
Rake pulls his hand away, so I turn to him. “No, she was picking up her stepson.”
Silence, then more laughter.
Assholes.
Arrow walks by the bar, and my attention immediately turns to him. He doesn’t look up as he slams down his half-finished bottle, licking a last drop from his lips.
“Arrow, you good?” Tracker asks, studying him.
He lifts his face.
Short brown hair, just long enough to run my fingers through.
Light brown eyes framed in thick dark lashes. Firm, perfectly kissable lips, and that beard that I have fantasies about tugging on.
“I’m good. You wanna head to Toxic?” he asks, eyes darting to me for a second before returning to Rake.
“I’m with my sister,” Rake replies, in an Are you fucking serious? tone.
Arrow looks directly at me. “I’m sure Anna won’t mind.”
Toxic is a popular strip club, and from what I’d heard, a place Arrow likes to frequent on occasion. He is trying to unnerve me, to make me squirm and shy away. He is challenging me.
I shrug. “Who doesn’t like boobs?”
Was that a twitch of his lip I saw? I feel proud at making this stoic man almost smile.
Almost.
Rake turns to me with a Why me? look on his face he wears a lot since I’ve come home. I shrug at him. “What’s the real difference between a strip club and here?”
Tracker starts laughing, and even Arrow looks amused.
Rake, however, doesn’t. “I’m not going to a fucking strip club with my baby sister.”
I roll my eyes. “Then drop me home on the way; I have to study tonight anyway.”
He sighs and plays with his lip ring with his teeth. “Why don’t we hang out here a bit first? Or do you want to go out for dinner?”
I smile gently—he really is trying. “Okay, dinner sounds good.”
Tracker nods his head and gives me a look of approval. I really don’t get these men. They’re always giving one another shit, but at the same time always looking out for one another. I grew up around men who looked like them—rough, covered with tattoos and leather. But the men my mom dated didn’t act like them. Growing up without a father was hard. It sucked. Having a shit mom didn’t help, of course, but I always wondered what my life would be like if I’d had a good dad and not the men my mom brought home to try and fill her void. The sad truth is, besides Rake, I haven’t known many good men in my life. Maybe that’s why every relationship I’ve ever had has failed miserably.