Arrow's Hell (Wind Dragons MC #2)(10)

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.”

Coming from someone who only wants a man who barely looks at me.

I’m such a hypocrite.

Lana laughs, and I wait for her to call me out on that comment, but she doesn’t. She just smiles at me and says, “You’re right. There are plenty of men out there.”

Lana knows about my crush on Arrow, she has to know, but she doesn’t tease me about it. Knowing Lana, she’s waiting for me to bring it up, waiting until I’m ready to talk about it. She’s good that way, very patient, but I haven’t missed the knowing looks she flashes me when I talk about him.

I take a quick shower and stand in front of the mirror, naked, to put on my makeup. A brown smoky eye makes my green eyes pop, and matched with a nude lip it doesn’t look like too much. I flat-iron my hair so it’s dead straight, then add some hair spray for a little volume on top. Deciding to go with a pair of black skintight skinny jeans and a black backless top, I slide my feet into my red pumps and spray a little perfume.

“You look amazing,” Lana says as I walk out into the living room. She’s put some music on and is pouring us drinks.

“Thanks,” I reply, taking the seat opposite her. I pick up the glass. “To a good night!”

“To a good night,” she repeats, and the glasses chime as we clink them together. I take a sip of the vodka and blackberry juice, then smile at my best friend.

“Why do I have a feeling we’re going to get into some trouble tonight?” I ask with a raised brow.

“Because you’re you.”

“Hey! I’m a well-respected, educated woman—”

She cuts me off with her laughter. “Yes, I know. Biological science specializing in zoology, you’re a huge nerd.”

“Like you can speak,” I reply, grinning. Lana is even smarter than me. I smile when she puts on her glasses, turning her sexy look cute. She’s practically blind without her glasses, and I’m glad she’s bringing them.

“I’ll call a cab,” I announce.

“Way ahead of you, Anna Bell, I already called one.”

“Oh, come on, not you too,” I complain.

She lifts her shoulder in a shrug. “It’s catchy.”

“Yeah, because it came out of Tracker’s mouth,” I reply, smirking at her.

She gasps and pushes her glasses farther up on her nose. “That is so not why!”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

A horn beeps, interrupting our argument, the same childish words we’ve been using since we were four. We grab our purses, everything else forgotten, lock the front door, and slide into the back of the cab.

“What’s the first stop on our pub crawl?” I ask her.

“Knox’s Tavern,” she replies, glancing down at her phone. I tell the cab driver where to go and relax back on the seat, enjoying the slight buzz from the vodka. When we arrive, the bouncer asks for our IDs, which, at twenty-five, is a compliment. A song I’ve never heard before is playing, and I move to the beat as we walk up to the bar. I sigh as I realize we will be waiting here for some time, the line to get drinks is that long.