I lift my gaze to his. “Okay, I’m backing off. It’s just that . . .”

“What?”

“What if one day you and Lana get together, then . . .”

His eyes widen in realization. “That’s why you’re upset! Not because of what I was doing, but because one day you think I could be doing that to Lana.”

I nod. “I guess so. I’m judging you on the standards I would use on someone who was dating my best friend. I shouldn’t, I know, but that was why.”

He leans down and kisses my forehead. “If I had a woman as good as Lana, sweetie, I wouldn’t fuck it up. I promise you that much.”

I smile. “Thank you for telling me that, Tracker.”

“You want to tell me what’s going on with you?” he whispers.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“There’s some tension between you and Arrow, what’s that about?”

I purse my lips. “Nothing’s happening there. Didn’t you see him leave with that woman?”

“Yes,” he replies. “I saw that. I also saw your face as he did it. You looked crushed.”

I cover my face with my hands. “Was I that obvious? Great, now everyone knows.”

He pulls my hands from my face. “No one knows shit; I was watching you closely.”

“Don’t say anything, Tracker,” I plead.

“Hey, no judgment from me, Anna Bell. Just be careful, all right?”

“I’m taking Anna home,” comes a rumbly voice from behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck rise.

I thought he left.

I sigh into Tracker’s chest, then turn around and look at Arrow. “Back so soon? I thought you’d be spending the night with your guest.”

His mouth tightens but he stays silent. Tracker touches my back, rubbing it gently.

I suddenly feel drained and just want to get home to my bed.

“Whoever is taking me, can we please go? I’m tired and I have to get up early to study,” I say softly, rubbing my upper arms.

Arrow steps forward, pulling me closer to his body. He takes my arm and leads me to his bike as I say my good-bye to Tracker and wave to Vinnie and Irish—who aren’t going home alone.

The ride home is a little tense, for a reason that I can’t pinpoint. I shouldn’t feel anything for Arrow, and he could bed whomever he wanted—I had no claim on him. I don’t know why he came back; I guess he feels a sense of responsibility over me. I’m going to have a talk with Rake and tell him that as much as I appreciate his concern, this shit has to stop. I don’t need a group of men keeping an eye on my every move. What if I wanted to go home with someone? I’m old enough to do as I please. I want them to see me as an equal, not someone they have to look after. If Rake won’t give in to that, I’m going to ask for anyone except Arrow to pick me up.

That’s going to be an awkward conversation.

As we pull up at my house I murmur a thank-you and get off the bike as quickly as it comes to a standstill, but Arrow doesn’t let me get away that easily. To my surprise, he slides off his bike and pulls me to him. Taking the helmet from my hands, he leans down and stares into my eyes.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

“What?”

“This is a bad idea.”

“What is?” I ask, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. I can’t think straight with him being so close to me.

Then, catching me off guard, he grazes his lips against mine. Subtly at first, a chaste kiss. A sweet kiss. But then that kiss changes.

And I become lost.

Arrow is kissing me.

I can’t count how many times I’ve dreamed of this moment.

How much I wanted it, and now it was mine.

Sucking on my upper lip and then my lower lip, his tongue begs entrance. I open my mouth to him, inviting him in, giving him everything he wants and more. His fingers grip my nape, and mine rest on his biceps. I knew it would be like this with him—passionate. Hungry. Greedy.

I knew it.

And now that I’ve tasted it, I want to keep it.

He pulls away much too soon for my liking, his gaze lowered onto my mouth.

I take a step back, shocked by what happened, but he reaches for me.

“Need to tell you something,” he says, grabbing my wrist firmly yet gently.

“What?” I whisper, looking up at him. The moonlight shines on his face, and he seems to be searching for the right words to say.

“I’m not the man for you,” he says quietly. “I’m not a good man, and I’m not saying that I’m bad, but . . . I’m bad for you.”

“Then why did you just kiss me?” I ask.

I should feel embarrassed about his acknowledging that he knows I like him, but I’m grateful for his candor. This needs to be out in the open no matter what the outcome.

“I needed to kiss you, even if it was just once,” he replies as he strokes my cheek. “I’m a selfish fuck.”

“I know you did time,” I blurt out. “Is that what this is about? You being in prison?”

He scrubs a hand down his face. “I did, but that’s not all I’m referring to. I killed the president of the Wild Men MC. Did you know that? You want to be with someone like that? I have blood on my hands, Anna, and it never goes away.”

I knew he killed someone. I also knew there had to be more to the story. Maybe it was a club war? Turf war? Something, I don’t know what. I knew Arrow was loyal to his club. I couldn’t hold it against him. Rake was the same.

“Arrow—”

“It’s not just that. I don’t have anything to give a good woman like you, Anna. And I don’t like feeling guilty because I want to fuck someone, seeing those wide green eyes staring up at me with hurt in them.”

I suddenly feel a mixture of anger and embarrassment. I can’t believe he called me out on that—and to think I thought I was doing well schooling my expressions. “I didn’t ask you for anything, Arrow.”

He dips his head. “You didn’t have to. You say it all in those eyes.”

“What if I just wanted sex?” I whisper, my cheeks flushing.

“You want your brother to kill me?” he says in a low, husky tone. “No, you know what? You would be worth that. But you still deserve better, Anna, and I’m going to try and do the right thing here.”

Ahhh, yes. My brother. I forgot about that.

“I won’t see you hurt because of me. Violence and pain follow me. I don’t want them to touch you, do you understand?”

“Fine,” I say after a few seconds. “This conversation never happened. Don’t let my wide green eyes stop you from whatever you want to do next time, okay?”

I walk away from him then, but before he starts his engine I’m almost sure I hear him say, “Trust me, I’m trying.”

*   *   *

By November—two months later—I’d settled into a routine in my doctoral program and had done my best to put Arrow out of my mind. After spending a long day doing observations at the zoo, I take a hot shower and put on my pajamas. I told my brother I would cook him dinner tonight, the one meal our mother used to make us whenever she was sober, which wasn’t very often. I’m glad to be able to spend some quality time with my big brother. He’s slowly becoming more open with me, as if he now believes I’m not going to up and leave every time he does something I don’t like.

I put on some music as I cook. First I marinate the chicken and put it in the oven, then steam the vegetables and make the mashed potatoes. I grin when Rake knocks at the door—apparently he’s learned his lesson about using that damn key. Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I rush to the front door. I shouldn’t be surprised when I open it and see not only Rake at the door but Tracker and Arrow as well, but I am.

Arrow has stayed away from me for the last month, avoiding me at every opportunity, and Rake never mentioned he was bringing anyone with him. Luckily I decided to cook a lot, thinking I’d enjoy the leftovers tomorrow. If I’d known they were coming over, I’d have invited Lana too.

I step aside so they can enter. Rake grins and kisses me on my forehead, and Tracker does the same. When Arrow steps through the door, I move away and follow behind Tracker. What the hell is he doing here?