“On a date,” I reply, not looking up.
“With who?” he asks quietly. “I didn’t know she was seeing anyone.”
I reach down to the fridge and pull out another beer before I answer. “She wasn’t. Now she is.”
She wasn’t, not really. Some guy asked her out and she was forcing herself to go, determined to forget Tracker—but he didn’t need to know that.
A group of women walk in, about six of them. Only two are beautiful, but I see the men around me staring at all of them. Must be the cheerleader effect in action. Irish calls two women over—the good-looking ones, of course—and one instantly sits on his lap, the other on Vinnie’s. I look to Arrow and raise a brow, wondering when he is going to get his man-whore on like the rest of them. When Tracker pulls a middling blonde onto his lap, I judge him.
Hard.
“Tracker—”
“Not your business, Anna,” Arrow cuts in. I snap my mouth shut and glare at Arrow, but still can’t ignore what Tracker’s doing. I don’t even like Allie—you could actually say I hated her—but if you don’t want a woman, or a man, you end it with them. You don’t cheat. There’s no honor or loyalty in cheating. Just don’t be with that person if you’re not happy—it’s as simple as that. I’ve been cheated on before, and it hurts. There’s a moment, if only for an instant, when you wonder what you didn’t have that the cheater felt the need to seek elsewhere. I had that moment. Then, when my self-respect kicked in seconds later, I realized it wasn’t my fault but his. I wasn’t the one being disloyal for whatever reason; I’m more honest than that.
I walk away from Tracker and his new friend, who is now straddling him, and stand at the opposite side of the bar. If Tracker ever mans up, dumps Allie, and goes after Lana, there is no way in hell I’m going to be on his side when I see him acting like this. I get drinks for a few rowdy women out for a divorce party, then grit my teeth as I watch the divorcée herself strut over to Arrow after a few shots of liquid courage. I lean back on the bar, cross my arms over my chest, and watch the show.
I need to remind myself that Arrow is not and never will be the man for me.
SHE runs her hand down his shoulder, and it’s then I notice none of the men are wearing their cuts. I look away as Arrow whispers something into the woman’s ear, unable to keep my eyes on him any longer. Why did I have to have these feelings for him? It would be so much easier if I didn’t. If I could see him like I do Tracker, almost like family.
“You okay?” Reid asks as he stands next to me. I have to look up to see his eyes; the man is tall. Maybe even as tall as Arrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?” I reply, wiping the bar top to keep my hands busy.
“Because I’m not stupid,” he replies quietly, nodding in greeting at a customer who walks in.
I look up at Reid’s handsome face. “It’s just a little crush.”
Maybe if I keep saying it, I will believe it myself.
I say it softly, so no one else can hear. “You repeat it and I’ll deny it.”
Reid chuckles, then sobers. “You’re a smart girl.”
“A scientist,” I add, grinning. “But where are you going with this?”
“A scientist,” he repeats with a nod. “I’m not good at giving advice or anything, but, Anna, as a man, I can tell he has it bad for you. The question is, what are you going to do with it?”
“With what?”
“With what I just told you,” he says, looking agitated. “You sure you’re a scientist?”
“About as positive as I am that you’re a jerk¸” I shoot back.
He grins. “Pretty positive then, huh?”
“It seems that way.”
“You talk to all your bosses like this?” he teases.
“No, Reid, I’m saving all my charm for you.”
Reid sighs. “I thought you might say that. You remind me of my sister, Sephie, sometimes.”
“Sephie?” What the fuck kind of name was that?
“Persephone,” he explains.
“Oh, does she ever come in here? I’d like to meet her.”
Reid touches the scar on his cheek absently. “Sometimes. She’s on vacation right now in Scotland. But when she’s back she’s usually here harassing me and Ryan.”
“She sounds great,” I reply instantly.
“I think I have something that might cheer you up, by the way,” he announces, grinning. I watch as he walks to the fridge and opens the door.
“What?” I ask, following him and peering into it.
All lined up in a row were four bottles of blackberry juice.
“For me?” I ask, smiling widely.
He nods. “For you.”
“Reid,” I say, wrapping my arms around him and giving him a quick hug. “Thank you. I can’t believe you remembered!”
He starts to respond but stops when Arrow materializes in front of us.
“Summer know you’re flirting with other women when she’s not around?” Arrow asks, a muscle working in his jaw.
Reid scowls. “Summer knows I’d never do that, and I’m allowed to talk to my employees.”
He gives me a look I can’t interpret and walks off, leaving me with an angry-looking Arrow.
“What?” I ask.
“I don’t like you working here,” he grits out.
“So?”
“So? Men have been staring at your ass and tits all night, and I’m sick of it. I’m gonna have a talk with your brother because he sure as hell won’t like it either.”
“I can’t help it if men stare at me!”
He looks down at my chest. “Maybe cover up a little more?”
I look down at my top, which is a V-neck but hardly revealing. “What do you want me to wear? A turtleneck?”
He nods. “I think that’s a fuckin’ fantastic idea.”
He was insane.
Certifiably insane.
I tuck a loose lock of hair behind my ear and lean my face closer to his. “This is my life. You don’t get to control it. Who are you to me, Arrow? My brother’s friend and my babysitter. Nothing more and nothing less. How dare you tell me what to wear. I’m not even dressed slutty, and it’s not illegal to show a tiny bit of cleavage!”
He stares at me for a moment, the air around us thick with tension. Finally he takes a step back and says, “You know what, you’re absolutely right.”
I watch as he walks up to Tracker, tells him something, and then leaves the bar. But he doesn’t leave alone. He grabs Miss Divorced on his way out, making sure to palm her ass so everyone can see. I make a sound deep in my throat, unable to mask the hurt, ignoring the curious stares from the other bikers. What did I expect? I pushed him and now he is going to fuck another woman. Maybe this was for the best? Maybe it would make it easier for me to forget him and move on, because I’m certainly not one to share.
I force a smile and continue serving drinks for the rest of the night, trying to push Arrow out of my mind.
And failing.
A million questions are running through my head, a million different scenarios.
Did he take her back to the clubhouse?
Is she staying the night?
Was he touching her right now?
Apparently I liked to torture myself.
When two a.m. hits it’s time for me to go home.
“Let’s go, Anna Bell,” Tracker calls out. I look to Reid, who nods his head, so I clock out and grab my handbag, then walk up to Tracker.
“I’m ready,” I tell him, biting the inside of my cheek as he pats his companion on the ass.
“You okay to ride?” I ask him, not wanting to get on the bike with him if he is drunk.
“I had two beers,” he replies. “I’m fine.”
I bite my bottom lip but nod my head.
“You got something to say to me?” he asks quietly, tilting his head to the side. “Come on, Anna Bell. Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I ask, brows furrowing.