12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

ARROW

Instead of pulling around the back, I park my bike right in front of the flower shop. There are a surprisingly large number of cars in the parking lot considering it's nearly the posted closing time for Little Shop of Flowers, and unless the guys had a fuck ton of walk-ins today, all these customers shouldn't be for Ink Slingers either.

I set my bike helmet on the seat and run my fingers through my hair. Anticipation has been buzzing under my skin since Lewis called yesterday, but the closer it gets to the time we agreed on, the more I feel like a live wire.

The sweet smell of flowers tickles my nose as I step inside the shop. It's not a scent I would have found particularly arousing before, probably more pleasantly neutral, but it reminds me of Lewis now, earthy and floral. It makes me want to nuzzle my face into that soft spot on his neck and feel the flutter of his pulse under my tongue. My cock thickens and I shake my head to try to dispel the thoughts before I get thrown out of the flower shop for lewd acts.

There are a dozen customers milling about inside, which is more than I was expecting. Maybe that social media campaign Jag inspired actually worked. Is it naive to hope that could mean an end to the pranks in favor of a truce? Probably.

I look around the shop, at a complete loss. I've never bought anyone flowers before, and if I had, I probably would have gone classic and picked up a dozen roses. That doesn't feel right for Lewis though. He deserves more thought. He deserves something special. Maybe the guy who owns the place can give me a solid recommendation. He's gotta be the expert, right?

I wander up to the counter and wait while another customer checks out. The guy behind the counter definitely isn't the twink Jag described. He's a bulky dude with a shy smile and a mass of auburn hair. The woman ahead of me picks out a rubber duckie from the bin and seems thrilled with both the discount she earns and with getting to keep the duck, and as she leaves with her flowers, I step forward.

The name tag on his chest reads ‘Rowan,' and I nod a greeting. His friendly expression fades as he takes me in.

"You're not from next door, are you?" he asks suspiciously, eyeing me from my jacket all the way down to my boots.

I shove my hands into my pockets and give him a contrite, half-smile.

"Guilty. I promise I'm not armed with water balloons filled with shaving cream or stink bombs or anything though." I pull my hands back out of my pockets and hold them up to show him I'm unarmed. When he doesn't immediately demand that I leave, I extend a hand to him. "I'm Arrow."

Rowan's bushy eyebrows fly up. "Arrow?" he repeats, and I chuckle. There's something about our club nicknames that always gets a reaction. "And that's your motorcycle?" He looks past me to my bike parked outside.

I drop my hand since it's clear he's not going to shake it. Is he asking about my bike so he can do something to it later as revenge for all of Jag's bullshit? If that fucking chaos gremlin gets my bike trashed, I'll wring his neck.

"Uh, yeah, it is. I swear I haven't had anything to do with the pranks though."

Rowan nods slowly, a calculating look still in his eyes like he's working out something complicated.

"Right." He clears his throat after a second. "So, what can I help you with?"

"I have a date tonight." A wide grin stretches across my face reflexively and I puff my chest up a little. "First date with a guy I've been seeing casually, actually." I'm not sure why I'm telling him all of this, I guess I'm hoping the context will help him pick the perfect flowers for me to give to Lewis. "I really want to impress him, and roses feel too generic. I was hoping you might have a good recommendation for me."

The suspicion falls from his face and his smile turns sweet again.

"L—-" he clears his throat, "Your date might find it a little sad that traditional bouquets die. It's a little different, but I bet he would really love a potted orchid. They're beautiful and he'll be able to keep it as a memory of your first date instead of watching it slowly die. That will be really meaningful to him, especially if he's the kind of guy who has a tendency to overthink things."

I don't know Lewis well enough yet to know if any of that is true, but it feels right based on what I have learned about him so far.

"That sounds perfect."

Rowan points at a table a few feet away and I go over to pick out one of the orchids. I reach for a pink and white one, but he clears his throat again.

"I'd go with the purple," he says.

I furrow my brow but grab the purple one like he suggested. They're all the same to me anyway, and he really seems like he knows what he's talking about.

"Thanks for all your help." I pay and then carefully tuck the potted flower close to my chest with one arm, the same way I used to carry Gregory when he was just a tiny puppy.

It's not until I'm back at my bike that I realize I hadn't given much thought to transporting flowers, let alone a potted one. I take a minute to find a way to fit it into my saddle bag as best I can and cross my fingers that it makes it the short trip.

Aside from some spilled dirt, everything looks ok when I pull it out again at Lewis's place. Someone is coming out as I reach the main door, so I don't have to buzz to be let in. Nerves churn in my stomach as I take the stairs to the second floor. I want tonight to be perfect. I want Lewis to see that he can trust me. I want this to be the start of something, not the end.

Fuck, I want it so badly.

By the time I reach his door, I've gotten myself properly tied in knots. I take a deep breath, shift the orchid into my sore hand, and raise the other one to knock.

I can hear Lewis's shuffling footsteps on the other side of the door, and a muttered curse as he bumps into something. I choke back a laugh and seconds later, the door swings open. He always looks hot as sin, but tonight he's downright edible. He has on a pair of tight-fitting dark wash jeans and a baby blue polo shirt that brings out his eyes. His hair is carefully styled in an artfully messy way, like he was trying to look his best but wanted it to come across as if he didn't try at all. A warm feeling swells in my chest, and I thrust the flower towards him.

"This is for you."

His lips part in surprise and his eyes go from wide with surprise to confused to soft in a blink.

"Purple is my favorite color," he says, reaching for the pot and gently dragging his finger over one of the orchid petals. "No one has ever brought me a flower before." He takes a step closer and tilts his face up towards mine. "Thank you," he whispers.

All of my bad habits scream at me to tell him that I'll plant him a whole garden of flowers if he wants. I'll fill his apartment with ten thousand daisies if it makes him happy. And the growly, possessive part of me purrs with satisfaction at the knowledge that I'm the only one who has made him smile in this particular way.

I swallow all of that down and keep it simple instead. "You're welcome," I murmur, dipping my head so our lips brush together with my words.

He hooks his hand behind my neck and pulls me in for a proper kiss, teasing his tongue over the seam of my lips before pulling away.

"Come in for just a minute so I can find a home for this new friend." He waves me in. "What do you think, Chid Vicious?" he asks with a smirk as he carries the orchid into the living room and starts to move plants around to find the perfect spot for it.

I chuckle. "As long as you don't put it near Plantsy Spungen. That'll only end in tragedy."

Lewis throws his head back and laughs. "Good point. There," he says with satisfaction as he places the flower on the short bookshelf right in front of the window. "Ready to go?"

Ready? I've been ready for weeks.

LEWIS

The vibration of the motorcycle makes my ass cheeks go numb in a matter of minutes, but it's a small price to pay for the rest of the experience. The smells of leather, lavender, and motor oil fill my lungs, embedding themselves onto my brain, forever to be associated with Arrow. The seat on the Harley is actually surprisingly roomy, but that doesn't stop me from pressing my entire body up against his back, wrapping myself around him and gripping his t-shirt. Since he gave me his helmet, his silver hair dances in the wind.

My cock stiffens against the curve of his ass, and if it weren't for the visor covering my face, I might not be able to keep myself from dragging my tongue over the side of his neck just to taste his skin again. Maybe that's allowed though. This is kind of a date, after all, and he did bring me an orchid.

My heart thunders against Arrow's back as I press myself even closer, glad the helmet hides my huge, giddy smile, even though he wouldn't be able to see it right now anyway. Trees and open fields blur past us as we fly down the quiet back road to Belland. I tighten my grip on his t-shirt, feeling the heat of his skin under my hands, his leather jacket open and flapping in the wind just like his hair is.

We cruise past the sign welcoming us to Belland and he slows our speed as we cross into the town limits. It's a medium sized town, just like Fall Crosse. Unlike Fall Crosse though, Belland draws tourists and lands on every ‘small towns you don't want to miss in Wisconsin' list thanks to the picturesque park right in the middle of town and the quaint shops lining the square around it. The sidewalks are fairly busy with people enjoying the last few weeks of summer, walking hand in hand and eating ice cream cones like they were paid by the Wisconsin Department of Tourism to recreate the pictures in a travel brochure.

We roll to a stop at one end of the park. It takes me a few seconds to actually unwrap myself from around him. If he asks, I'm definitely going to pretend it's because I was scared and not because I want to wiggle under his jacket and rub myself all over him while I nuzzle his beard and purr like a cat. For sure don't want to do that. Okay, maybe I want to do it a little .

He brought me a flower . I'm entitled to get a little swoony and stupid over a man who brings flowers. Is that all it takes to break down my defenses and gain unfettered access to my heart? It certainly would seem so, and I would love to be madder at myself about that, but Arrow is making it really hard to remember why I should be.

When I manage to let go of him, Arrow scoots forward, giving me space to awkwardly climb off the back of the bike using his sturdy shoulders for balance. Once my feet are on the ground, I tug the helmet off while he gracefully slings his leg over the Harley and dismounts. I run my fingers through my hair to try and unflatten it, then set the helmet on my seat. Just like he did the day he pulled over to help me, he shrugs out of his leather jacket and hangs it on the handlebars. I notice the emblem on the back again, and something tickles at the back of my mind. It's just a wisp of a memory I can't quite grab before it's gone, like almost remembering something from a dream.

I dart my tongue out to wet my lips and find myself moving closer to him without meaning to. He holds my gaze, the humor in his eyes melting into liquid heat. My hands seem to have a life of their own, reaching out and gently pushing up the bottom of Arrow's t-shirt, my thumb grazing the warm skin underneath as my fingers wrap themselves around his clothes again, this time without the excuse of needing to hang on. The corners of his lips twitch like he's holding back a smile, and he ghosts his hand up my arm. I shiver with the goose bumps that rise under his touch.

"Hey, this is only a trial date, so you should probably keep it in your pants," he says solemnly, but he presses himself into my touch, immediately contradicting himself.

My mouth falls open and I bark out a laugh. " I had better keep it in my pants, Mr. Pinned-me-to-the-wall-and-shoved-his-tongue-in-my-mouth?"

A taunting smirk spreads over his lips as he brings his mouth closer to mine. "That was before. I'm trying to make a good first impression here. I promise I'll keep my tongue to myself."

"Don't you dare." I close the inch of space between us, devouring his lips and licking my way into his mouth.

Arrow wraps his arms around me and meets the kiss with deep, hungry strokes of his tongue in return. My cock stiffens against him, and a hot shiver rocks me.

"We'd better stop before we get kicked out of the park."

I laugh and break the kiss, nodding in agreement and using my hand to wipe the dampness from my lips.

"Good point. Let's get tacos. This place is incredible, you're going to love it. I'm not kidding when I tell you they have the best tacos I've ever eaten."

I slide my hand into Arrow's uninjured one without thinking and start towards the food trucks. It only takes a few steps for my brain to catch up with my body. I stiffen and stutter a step, loosening my grip on his hand, but instead of pulling away, Arrow tightens his fingers around mine and falls into pace beside me.

There are a few taco trucks parked around the square, interspersed between burger trucks, kebabs, and one place called Send Noods, which is all pasta. But nobody throws a taco together like Bas does. At least, no one in Belland does.

He's leaning out the window of his truck as we walk up, a serene smile on his lips, his dark, curly hair flatted under a hair net, a dimple indenting his left cheek. His eyes light up when they fall on us.

"Straight as an Arrow," he says, holding his fist out to Arrow for a greeting bump. "And Huey Lewis and the News." He fist-bumps me too.

I look over at Arrow who gives me a sheepish smile.

"I might be a bit of a regular here too. You seemed so excited to bring me, I didn't want to ruin the fun," he explains, then turns and nods to Bas. "Hey, Bas, how's it going?"

"Another day in paradise," he declares, drumming his hands on the metal counter and winking.

I glance between the two of them, hating myself a little for the way I assess their smiles. They're friendly, but are they too friendly? Have they fucked? Do they want to? It wouldn't be the first time exclusive didn't mean exclusive, and it definitely wouldn't be the first time a guy made me feel like a complete idiot. My fingers twitch around Arrow's, and without hesitating, he uses his grip on my hand to pull me closer. Then he lets go of my hand and puts his arm around me.

He looks at me like Bas doesn't even exist, like I'm the only person in this whole park, and my heart skips a beat.

"What do you prefer, Tater Tot, chicken or beef?"

My cheeks heat and I flatten my lips to fight off a laugh. "Chicken."

"Chicken it is." He nods, then without even looking at Bas, says, "A dozen chicken."

"Coming right up." Bas drums his hands enthusiastically on the counter again and disappears.

"Tater Tot?" I ask blandly.

"Coming up with a pet name on the fly isn't as easy as it sounds."

"Honey, sweetie, baby…" I rattle off a few options and he waves his hand dismissively.

"Those are cliché, they have no personality at all. I could call anyone ‘baby,' but only my man is my little tater tot."

My cheeks burn hot again, and emotion clogs my throat. Fuck, why is Arrow so goddamn cute? Motorcycle riding badasses are not supposed to be this sweet. I swallow around the lump in my throat and bite back the urge to propose to him here and now before my usual luck catches up with me and he turns into an asshole.

"But why Tater Tot?" I ask again with a laugh.

"Because you love tater tots," he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"I do actually love tater tots," I concede with a chuckle.

"I knew it. See, so much more personal than ‘sweetie.'" He dips his head and drags his nose along the shell of my ear, sending hot jolts through me. "He's just my taco dealer, by the way. We've never fucked and I have absolutely no interest."

Relief whooshes through me.

"It's none of my business." I shrug.

He growls quietly close to my ear and nips at my earlobe. I gasp and my knees tremble.

"I thought we already agreed on this. As long as we're giving each other screaming orgasms, who I fuck is your business," he says firmly. "And vice versa."

Possessive heat burns in his eyes, making my knees weak and my heart thunder. I nod wordlessly, unable to take my eyes off of his for several long seconds.

"Here you go." Bas pops his head back out through the window, breaking the moment by dangling a bulging paper bag in one hand. "That'll be twenty bucks."

I let out a shaky breath and reach into my pocket for my wallet.

"I can get it," Arrow says, dropping his arm and reaching for his own wallet at the same time.

"I invited you, so I'm paying," I insist, handing Bas a twenty before Arrow gets the chance and stuffing a few extra singles into the tip jar taped to the counter.

Arrow grunts and frowns. Obviously, he's not used to guys paying instead of him.

"You can pay next time if it makes you feel better," I offer, nodding towards a shady picnic table near the fountain in the middle of the park.

"Next time?" His frown morphs into a grin. "Does that mean I've passed the tryout?"

"Maybe," I hedge, but I'm sure the smile on my face is giving me away.

Of course he fucking passed. He passed with flying colors. This date isn't even over yet and he has obliterated the grading curve.

I'm definitely falling for Arrow, now I just have to hope he's going to be there to catch me.