8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

LEWIS

"I just can't figure him out." I sigh, my hands working on muscle memory to tie a bow around the bouquet in my hand. Rowan and I have a nice system going where he gathers the flowers I need, and I make sure they're exactly the way I like, then tie the expensive silk ribbon around them. Who the hell has a dozen bridesmaids all with their own bouquet is beyond me, but whatever, it's their wedding and I'll happily take the money.

"Because the sex is good?" Rowan clarifies in his most pointedly bland tone, the one he's perfected after many years of indirectly calling me out on my bullshit.

I huff and carefully fiddle with the next arrangement. "No, spectacular sex I can understand." God, spectacular is an understatement. The memory of his intense, claiming kiss while he fucked me within an inch of my life fills my mind for the millionth time in the past few days and my cock starts to swell immediately. I shake my head sharply.

"Yeah, so walk me through the issue again," Row says.

I set the bouquet down and run my teeth along my bottom lip while I try to think of a way to explain it that won't sound insane. Of course, this is Row, and no matter how I try to frame it, he's going to see all the festering insecurity beneath my excuses anyway.

"He's too amazing. He has to be a serial killer. It's the only explanation I can come up with that makes any sense to me." I drum my fingers on the counter. "He let me blather on about plants, so far he hasn't played any mind games at all , and after the best sex of my entire life, I pretty much kicked him out and he just smiled and kissed me."

I set the bouquet aside, my heart hammering against my ribcage as I recount the details to Rowan for the third time this morning. I spent the first few days after our last hookup picking it all apart in my head, looking for a moment that I might have ignored at the time, some sign that Arrow is full of shit, and came up with nothing. By the look on my best friend's face, I don't think he's about to help me dig up any of the skeletons in Arrow's closet either.

"Hmm, yup, sounds like a sociopath," he says.

"You're no help," I grumble. My spool of ribbon is almost empty, so I stoop to open the cabinet under the counter and pull out the bin to find more of the right shade. Instead of ribbon though, the first thing I see when I open it is a small pink rubber duckie. "That's weird." I pull it out and set it on the counter.

"Where did that come from?" he asks.

I shrug, digging through the bin until I find the ribbon I need, then pushing it back inside and standing up. "No clue. Maybe a little kid tossed it in there when I left it open on the counter at some point."

"It's kind of cute." He picks it up and sets it on top of the cash register, then hands me the next bouquet.

I take it and start to carefully arrange each flower. "Maybe I'm overthinking things."

He snorts. "You?"

I roll my eyes and flip my middle finger at him. "No, seriously though. This is meant to be casual, which means the whole point is that I don't really get to know him and there's no opportunity for him to play stupid games or fuck me around."

"Uh-huh," Rowan murmurs.

"So, he probably has plenty of flaws I'm just not seeing. And it doesn't matter anyway because I don't want to see them. I don't want to know who he is behind those brooding silver eyes. Knowing what he does for work or how he spends his free time isn't going to make the sex any hotter, and that's all that matters right now." I frown, babbling more to myself than to my best friend as I fiddle with the next bow, untying and retying it a few times until it's just right.

"If you say so," he says, handing me the next bouquet.

"I do." I inject an air of finality into my voice that doesn't quite manage to settle in my chest.

I reach for my scissors so I can cut the next length of ribbon, but in the mess on the counter, I can't find them. Luckily, I keep multiple spares. I pull open the drawer to look for another pair, frowning when I look down.

I pull out a blue and green duck and set it on top of the register right next to the pink one.

"This is bizarre, right?" I ask.

Rowan is the one who shrugs this time. "Like you said, maybe a kid did it. It's not like either of us stand behind the counter at all times."

"Yeah, good point."

I find a spare pair of scissors and cut the ribbon I need, then keep on moving to the next bouquet, letting my mind wander while Rowan sings along under his breath to the soft rock station I have playing through the speakers.

We finish the flowers for this wedding and the afternoon passes steadily, with customers coming in and out and orders to fill. Arrow stays on my mind though. I rambled at him about my interest in plants, what would he info dump on me if I gave him the chance?

Not that I care.

Nope, definitely don't want to know if he has any siblings or if he exclusively listens to nineties grunge as his array of t-shirts suggests. If I know any of that, I'm just starting down the road to heartbreak. I've walked it before, and it always ends the same.

This is just sex, and that's more than enough.

Just to remind myself where we stand, I pull my phone out of my pocket and tap out a text.

LEWIS: Come over tonight?

Arrow's reply is almost immediate. Just seeing his name flash across my screen makes my heart jump. I rub my hand over my chest, like that's somehow going to slow my heartbeat or remind the idiotic organ why it shouldn't be affected by Arrow at all.

ARROW: I thought you'd never ask. See you tonight.

ARROW

Things have been quiet for the last few days. I'm almost afraid to ask Jag if he's dropped his prank war with our neighbor, just in case he forgot about it and the question is the reminder he needs to launch his next attack.

The majority of my attention at the moment is on the tattoo I'm working on, which is an array of colorful butterflies on my customer's forearm. I never let anyone walk out of here with half-assed ink, but I'm giving this one special attention because it's covering up self-harm scars. I haven't told him yet, but I'm not planning on charging him for it either. I figure that will be a fun surprise once I finish up. I love that moment when someone can't stop smiling about the new artwork I've had the privilege of putting on their body, and when it serves the dual purpose of rewriting a story they don't want to be reminded of anymore, all the better.

I have just enough attention left over to listen as the guys plan a trip to a little city a few hours away in Iowa in a couple of weeks where there's supposed to be protests at the opening of a new LGBTQ youth shelter.

"You in, Arrow?" Hero calls over, and I grunt and nod.

"Of course. I'd hate to miss it if the protesters get out of hand." Ryan, the guy in my chair, laughs and I grin at him. "We can't resist getting rowdy for a good cause every now and again," I explain.

"That's cool. If there had been more guys like you all around when I was in high school, I might not have these." He nods at the scars I'm nearly finished covering up, solidifying my decision not to charge him.

There's so much damn hate in this world, and there was a time I almost let it consume me too. Not the way Ryan did, but I was destructive in my own way. Battling the darkness with a little light whenever I get the chance is a much better way to deal with it though, and I'm glad I figured that out before it was too late to turn around and get the hell off the path I was on.

The guys finish finalizing the plans and slowly everything starts wrapping up for the day. I finish Ryan's ink, take a few pictures, then wrap his arm and give him the care instructions. When I tell him there's no charge, he cries and hugs me. I awkwardly pat his back and then walk him out once he's pulled himself together.

"We're coming by your place tonight," Piston tells me after I lock the door behind my client, since he was the last one for today.

I grimace, feeling the weight of my phone in my pocket, my body already keyed up and buzzing for my ‘date' with Lewis.

"Oh, come on," Hero complains, seeing my face.

"I already made plans." I try to ignore the guilt twisting in my gut. I've been neglecting them a bit the past couple of weeks, with Lewis occupying so much of my thoughts. "Why don't you guys come by tomorrow. I'll pick up stuff to grill and we can take a ride after."

"This casual friend of yours must have a golden bussy," Jag says.

I narrow my eyes, a little growl rumbling in my throat. "Watch it."

He chuckles and holds his hands up. Tex steps up next to Jag and puts a hand on his shoulder, then tips his hat at me.

"We'll be there tomorrow. But we expect some damn good food as an apology for forgetting about us lately."

"Deal," I agree with a chuckle.

They all file out, leaving me all alone. I start to clean up the little cups of ink and all the stray supplies littering my work area, my mind wandering to Lewis over and over again until the shop is finally in order and I'm practically sprinting out the back door to hop on my bike.

When I get to Lewis's this time, his car is already in the parking lot. I buzz his apartment, and after a minute, the intercom crackles.

"Hello?"

"Hey, gorgeous," I purr.

"I'm sorry, who is this?" The teasing in Lewis's voice has a chuckle rumbling through my throat. I hold down the button again to answer.

"It's Arrow. You might remember me from such things as eating your ass like it was my last meal."

The sound of his breath catching makes my dick twitch and impatience starts to creep up my spine. A second later, a buzzer sounds, letting me know the door is unlocked. I pull it open and hurry up the steps to his apartment.

He's already waiting in the doorway when I reach it, and unlike last time, there's no hesitation or uncertainty. He devours me with his eyes, and I close the space between us in a few long strides, catching his face between my hands and walking him backward into his apartment.

The door swings closed behind us as I cage Lewis against the wall, pressing our bodies together and snaking my tongue around his. I greedily swallow the breathy noise he makes against my lips, my hands finding their way to his ass while his slide under my shirt. His fingertips grazing hotly over my skin feel like a brand, a claim, and I fucking love it. As much as I want to mark my territory and let everyone know that this pretty, sweet twink is mine, it goes both ways. I want him to own me, I want him to want to.

I know I'm getting ahead of myself.

I'd love to find it in me to care, but right now the taste of Lewis's lips is really the only thing on my mind. That and the way his cock hardens against my thigh, his touch getting rougher and more desperate the longer and deeper we kiss.

A distant part of my brain registers the feeling of my phone vibrating in my pocket and dismisses it. Unless this place is burning down around us, I'm not interested in any interruptions.

I growl around his tongue and use my grip on his ass to hoist him up. Lewis laughs, the sound tickling my lips. He winds his arms around my neck and nips at my lips, then delves his tongue back into my mouth. My phone starts up again. Buzz, buzz, buzz .

I grunt and ignore it. At least, I try to. By the fourth call I reluctantly break the kiss. It'll be faster to answer and tell whoever's calling to fuck off. Hero's name flashes across the caller ID, I answer it and bring it to my ear.

"Not now, kitten, Daddy's busy," I tease, winking at Lewis, dragging my thumb over his damp, swollen bottom lip, hunger growing in my gut. He frowns.

I pull the phone away from my ear and I'm about to end the call when Hero's reply interrupts me.

"Put it back in your pants, man, we've got club business."

Fucking hell .

Lewis raises both eyebrows, his eyes searching my face. As much as certain parts of me are urging me to blow Hero off, he wouldn't invoke the club unless it was serious. Lewis must see the resignation in my eyes because his shoulders sag.

I sigh. "Yeah, alright. I'll be at your place in ten."

"Thanks, Arrow."

I end the call and run my hand over my face, trying to clear the lust fog and switch gears.

"I'm so sorry," I say, shoving my phone back into my pocket and giving Lewis an apologetic smile.

He studies me for another silent second, then nods. "It's fine."

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and I swallow back a growl, fighting the urge to drag him close and suck a bruise onto his throat before I go.

We stare at each other for several heartbeats. Should I give him more of an explanation about why I have to leave? Does he even want one? The whole point of keeping it casual is not sharing our lives, right? So why do I want to explain so badly? Why do I want him to care?

"If things wrap up at some point and you want to come by…" He slips past me to open the door again.

I nod. "I will."

I grab his chin and press one more rough kiss to his lips before I go.

Whatever mess Hero has stirred up, it had better be life or death, or I might strangle him myself.