My Darling Arrow by A. Kent Saffron

Author:A. Kent, Saffron
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-09-13T16:00:00+00:00

His motel room is gray and dull.

That’s the first thing I notice when I step in.

It’s also very clean and made up. Generic. With a desk under the window, a slim-backed chair, a chest with drawers by its side. Tons of weights stacked up in one corner. A door that probably leads to the bathroom.

And a bed.

I’m not looking at the bed yet for some strange reason. But from what I can gather from the corners of my eyes, it has crisp white sheets with a dark gray blanket on the foot.

I walk in, my feet muffled on the gray carpet.

Unlike my heartbeats.

My heartbeats are loud. So very loud and I bet he can hear them.

My Arrow.

Who’s just stepped in after me and closed the door with a click.

I feel that tiny click in my bare thighs.

Well, I’m wearing a plaid skirt tonight that I borrowed from Poe. Up until he showed up at the bar, I was feeling cold even in his jacket.

But not anymore.

My thighs don’t feel cold at all. Not even when I was riding behind him and we were speeding down the highway, wind whipping against my flesh.

In fact, they were hot.

Like they are now.

When I reach the opposite wall, I turn around and lean against it.

Arrow is doing the same. He’s leaning against the door, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes on me.

I press my thighs together. “There’s a lot of gray in this room.”

My first words to him ever since we left the bar.

He tips his chin, his stubbled, rough jaw catching the overhead light. “I like gray.”

His first words to me after he said that I belonged with him.

Biting my lip at the memory, I tell him, “Gray’s super dull.”

“Unlike sunshine yellow.”

I look at his hair then. It’s all messed up, strands falling over his arched brows.

And I regret being so far away from him. Where I can’t smooth them away.

I don’t know why I chose this spot to stand against when all I want – all I’ve ever wanted – is to be close to him.

As it is, I dig my nails into my sweaty palms and shift on my feet, feeling the scrape of the wall on the backs of my thighs. “How’d you know I was at the bar?”

“You wanted to learn things, yeah?” When I hesitantly nod, he murmurs, “It wasn’t hard to figure out where you’d go for that.”

I clench my thighs again, getting sort of restless. “I thought you didn’t wanna waste your time on teaching me.”

“I don’t,” he clips. “But I don’t want other guys teaching you either.”

My breaths escalate.

It’s such a guy thing to say – I don’t want you but I don’t want anyone else to have you either.

And maybe because I’m such a girl, it starts up a quickening in my lower stomach. “Why not?”

Something about what I said makes him move away from the door and I shiver in his jacket.

His footsteps should be muffled like mine were but they aren’t.

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