Arrow's Hell (Wind Dragons MC #2)(3)

Adam’s always been a good man.

He also happens to be a huge pain in my ass, a total man-whore, and overprotective to the point of stupidity. Ever since I was a little girl, he’d taken his role of big brother very seriously. It probably had to do with the fact that we didn’t know who our father was, and our mother was . . . absent. That was putting it nicely—in fact, our mother was a junkie who left us to fend for ourselves ever since I could remember.

My brother also made it his business to scare off any potential dates, and that hasn’t changed. If anything, it’s gotten worse. It seems when most men around here find out who my brother is, they decide I’m not worth the ass kicking they’ll get—but in a way it’s almost like a screening test. I don’t want a man who’s a * and afraid of my brother. I want a strong man who’ll tell my brother to f*ck off and smile while he’s doing it. The thought makes me grin to myself.

I wonder who my babysitter will be today.

Seeing the sexy beard and the wide shoulders encased in tight black fabric, I smile broadly, pleased with my escort for today. I walk straight up to his idling bike, sashaying my hips with each step.

“Good afternoon, Arrow,” I say, grinning cheekily.

He narrows his eyes on me. “You gonna give me trouble today, Anna?”

Probably.

But only because he needs it. The man hardly smiles, so I find myself being more playful around him than I am around anyone else, just to get a reaction out of him.

“Anna?” he repeats, staring at me weirdly when I don’t reply, continuing to study him, lost in my own thoughts.

Fuck, but I love the way he says my name. Arrow must have a good ten years on me, but he doesn’t look it. Not to me. He has a better body than most of the men my age and a beard that looks badass on him.

I do love a good beard.

You can tell that under the beard is a strong, square jaw. I wonder if he has a dimple in his chin.

He also has soulful brown eyes that you just know have seen the world at its worst, but he’s still survived. He has faint crinkles on either side of his eyes, letting me know he once used to laugh a lot. His mouth is full, firm, and entirely lickable.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I tell him with a shrug. I push my blond hair off my face and flash him an innocent look. I have the same green eyes as my brother, and while his incite lust from the opposite sex, mine don’t seem to be doing the same. Arrow’s face turns grumpier, if that’s even possible. What the hell is he so moody about all the time? Yes, I heard he did time in jail, but most bikers do at some point, don’t they? At least the ones I’ve heard of. Okay, I guess I shouldn’t stereotype like that. But Arrow did do time, although I don’t know what for. I overheard my brother talking with Tracker, another member of the MC. I’ve been around these bikers for a month or so now, and out of all of them, Arrow is the one who keeps both his distance and his guard up.

He’s also the one I can’t stop thinking about.

Quite a conundrum.

Well, for me anyway.

Have you ever seen someone for the first time and just wanted them? Something about them attracts you, like a moth to a flame, without rhyme or reason. Every time I look at Arrow I feel that pull. That want, that need. There is something about him, something that draws me to him. Sure, he is gruff and rough around the edges. He is also temperamental, broody, and usually pretty damn grumpy. He is a man of few words—the strong, silent type. The more time he is forced to spend as my babysitter, the more I’ve gotten him to open up. Slowly, little by little, he’s started speaking to me. It is progress, but still, I know I am stupid to hope for anything more. Sure, my heart races whenever he is near, but I try to ignore that little factor as best as I can. It doesn’t change anything. Arrow is my guilty pleasure, something I know I shouldn’t want but want anyway. The thing is, I’ve seen little glimpses of him that make me believe he is more than he shows the world. I’ve seen him playing with Clover, the MC president’s daughter, and sneaking her strawberry candy. I’ve seen him tickling her, her loud giggles echoing throughout the room. I then overheard him telling her that if any boy messes with her, to let him know and he would take care of it because no one hurts the princess.

She’s five.

No one can tell me the man doesn’t have a heart.

“Get on the bike and hold on,” he demands, turning away from me. It frustrates me that he never looks at me for longer than he has to. Is he not attracted to me at all? I’m not vain, but I know that I’m not completely unfortunate in the looks department. Adam has even said I’m too beautiful for my own good, but as my brother, I guess he’s a little biased.

Maybe Arrow sees me as nothing more than Adam’s baby sister. But that doesn’t explain why he always seems so eager to leave my presence. I like to think I’m easy to be around, and sometimes even a little fun.

“Where are we going?” I ask as he hands me my helmet.

“Rake wants to see you at the clubhouse,” he replies distractedly.

“Then why didn’t he pick me up himself?” I ask. Not that I’m complaining, since I secretly covet being around Arrow, but still.

“I was closer to campus, so it just made more sense. Now are you getting on the bike or are we gonna sit around while all these stuck-up *s stare at us?”