Time Will Tell (Maybe #3)(52)

The ride is quick, and Arrow’s bike soon skids to a stop. I climb off, handing him back his helmet.

“Thanks, Arrow,” I tell him quietly.

He grunts in response and takes the helmet from my hands, but doesn’t bother to look me in the eyes.

“How’s your day been?” I ask, tilting my head to the side and studying him as he gets off his bike.

He glances up at me, finally, and rubs the back of his neck. “It was okay. You gonna ask about the f*ckin’ weather next?”

“If I have to,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “In case you were wondering, my day was kind of awesome.”

He grins then, his eyes softening on me slightly. “Good to hear, Anna, good to hear. Now get your ass inside.”

He is trying to get rid of me. How predictable.

“Arrow,” I say, taking advantage of his attention. “Do you think Rake will tone down the whole escort thing?”

He licks his top lip, then follows through with his teeth. I stare at his mouth, mesmerized by the action.

He clears his throat. “Don’t look at me like that, Anna.”

“Like what?” I ask, still staring.

“Anna,” he snaps. I lift my gaze, my cheeks heating. “Go and ask Rake, but I don’t think so. He just wants you safe. Bad shit has happened before, and he’s going to make sure that nothing bad touches you. And I agree with him. Now get your ass inside before he calls me asking where the hell you are.”

“Okay,” I reply, puffing out a breath.

He steps to me and touches my cheek in an almost-there caress. Okay, this is new. He’s never shown this type of affection to me before.

Our eyes lock.

I swallow hard.

He pulls away and turns his back to me. Looks like I’ve been dismissed.

“Nice chatting with you as always,” I call out as I walk into the clubhouse. The scene before me is a familiar one. Rake is sitting there with a woman on his lap, blissfully unaware of the rest of the world. Faye, the president’s wife and queen bee of the clubhouse, is talking with Tracker, another MC member and a friend of mine. Sin, the club president, is nowhere to be seen. Faye turns when she notices me, her auburn hair framing her pretty face. I nod my head at her, giving her the respect she’s due as Sin’s old lady.

I know Faye is a badass chick, I’ve heard all the stories about her. I tend to stay out of her way—we don’t really interact, even though she’s close with Rake, Tracker, and the rest of the guys. I think in any other situation, we’d probably really get along well. I’ve heard nothing but good things about her, but I still have no plans to befriend her anytime soon. I’ll never admit this to anyone, but I envy her. She has all the men wrapped around her finger, but more important, they treat her like an equal. No one tells her what to do or orders her around. They listen to her and respect her. And it pisses me off that while I’m treated like a child, she can do as she pleases.

I know the men keep a close eye on me only because of Rake’s commands, and I hope that will ease up when my brother realizes that I’m a woman who can take care of herself. I think he needs to figure out that he never let me down when we were younger, and he has nothing to make up for. He’s a great brother, even though he can be a tad excessive when it comes to me. I know it’s because of how much he cares about me, but I don’t think he knows what to do about it. Or me.

Tracker walks over to me when he sees me, a smile playing on his lips, and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Anna Bell!”

“Don’t call me that,” I reply, raising an eyebrow at him. Tracker is friendly, easy to get along with, drop-dead gorgeous, and completely f*ckable. Shoulder-length blond hair frames a handsome face with bright blue eyes and full lips. His body is impressive, lithe and toned, and covered in tattoos. Why he’s with Allie, I have no idea. I think it’s one of those things—like how good girls always finish last, because the bitch definitely won when she got her paws on a man like Tracker. The first time I came to the clubhouse, he approached me and made a comment about breaking in the fresh meat. I replied with a joke about how I was harder to get than Rake, and we both found that amusing. We’ve kind of become friends since then. Tracker is very easy to be around, and he’s a good listener. I just bonded with him from the very start.

“It’s a very cute name, for a cute lady,” he says, squeezing my cheeks, shaking my head left and right.

“Fuck off,” I tell him with a smile, slapping away his hands.

“How was class?” he asks, pulling on a lock of my blond hair. Could he be more annoying? He treats me like the sister he never had yet didn’t want, so I make sure to return the favor.

“It was okay,” I reply. “Still thinking about quitting and becoming a club whore though. It seems to hold a certain appeal.”

He laughs, a deep rumble. “Don’t let Rake even hear you joke about that.”

“What would he do? Treat me like a kid and have people escort me everywhere?” I ask, voice full of sarcasm.

“And that,” he says, smirking, “is the reason you will never be a club whore.”

“What?” I ask, confused.

He chuckles. “Your sharp tongue. We like the club women to be pliable and—”

“Stupid? Easy? Flexible?” I offer, waggling my eyebrows sleazily.