“That’s what happens when you don’t pounce fast enough,” Virgil remarked.
Krys withdrew his arm. “You’re not missing out. You can do better.”
All their words faded as Archer stared daggers at the man’sback. Why the hell was he feeling so possessive? They had sex—that’s all. What was he going to do, ask her on a date?
The couple abruptly stood. Archer assessed the man leading her to a booth. He was tall, well-dressed, and scanned the room like a guard. His features were brutish and his gaze icy.
Their hands stayed connected as she submissively followed his lead. Then he penned her in the booth by sitting next to her. This wasn’t her brother, a friend, or even a first date.
Mercy searched the room before she spotted the couple in the booth and went to take their order.
Deflated, Archer turned away and scratched the side of his nose while processing what he’d just seen.
“When did you and Conservative Clara hook up?” Virgil inquired while gazing at the stone pendant around his neck.
“A couple of months ago. It’s old news,” he replied, attempting to convince himself more than his packmates.
Virgil raked his fingers through his tousled hair while telling a story about a Mage who once paid him to clean her house in the nude.
Meanwhile, Archer pondered whether he should buy a car. They borrowed Hope’s sedan, and though she didn’t mind, Archer hated depending on others. On the other hand, buying a car would take away from the money he needed for new gym equipment.
Besides, it was a pain in the ass to drive with only one arm. He could brace his knee on the steering wheel to do things, but turning sharp corners on dirt roads was a bitch. And trythatwhile simultaneously activating the blinker.
Archer couldn’t even cut a piece of paper without it being an ordeal. Could he buy modified scissors online? Probably. But he wasn’t good at swallowing his pride. It was an oversized lump that lived in his throat. He didn’t even like wearing sneakers in public because some joker would always step on his laces.
At human bars, all they did was stare. Most assumed he’d lost his arm in war or a car accident, and because of that, they were inclined to feel sorry for him. Immortals were just assholes, and maybe that was easier to deal with.
People had once admired him for his handsome looks, outgoing personality, and unmatched archery skills. Now the stares made him feel inadequate in the eyes of others.
Had he been born this way, he would have easily adapted. But he’d spent most of his life with two arms. Now he had to relearn everything, and it wasn’t something he could learn overnight. Everything took longer or he found impossible, like trimming his nails, opening jars, or even washing his hand thoroughly. He couldn’t use string dental floss anymore, and Krys helped him change his sheets. There were also things he missed, like sleeping with his arm tucked beneath his pillow. Hell, he couldn’t even masturbate the way he liked.
Archer’s life had come to a grinding halt the day he lost his arm.
A couple of hours later,Archer and the guys were still at the bar. Lakota called to let them know the pack had taken the rest of the day off to go swimming, so they didn’t have to rush home. Krys didn’t want to leave, and Virgil was beyond ecstatic that he could hit up Calvin for the Wild Rabbit drink special.
Throughout their game of darts, chatter, and a few rounds of pool, Archer kept discreetly checking on the couple. He watched Mercy shuttle beer after beer to their table, but only the guy was drinking. When their food arrived, the brunette poked at a salad. Why the hell would she order a salad? She was so lithe, and the pot roast was absolutely fucking delicious.
Meanwhile, that douchebag had gobbled up two plates while she watched.
It shouldn’t have bothered Archer, but when her mate got up to join a game of pool, the woman ate his leftovers while looking over her shoulder to make sure he didn’t notice.
After that, Archer felt a burn in his stomach that wasn’t from the pot roast. He had an irresistible urge to order her lunch, but instead, he kept a sharp eye on her mate, who was busy hustling a few fellows at pool. He didn’t seem like a bad guy, and that’s what put Archer in a foul mood. The guy was friendly, and everyone liked him. He also had the sport coat, T-shirt, and jeans look women loved. Not to mention his long mane.
And the fact he had two arms to hold her.
“You good?” Krys eased up to the standing table. “You’ve been in a funk all day. If you’re tired of being the designated driver, we can head home and drink there.”
“It’s not that.”
“More of that trauma drama? There’s no crying in immortality.”
Harsh words, but Krys could pull him out of depression with tough love. He was the only one who understood, because he had been through some rough shit too. Knowing that, Archer felt less alone in the world. He needed a good kick in the pants sometimes, and Krys was the man to deliver.
Krys twisted around and took a gander at the table Archer had been monitoring. “Why don’t you go talk to her if you’re that bent out of shape?”
“You know I stay clear of mated chicks. Besides, she’s with Mr. Perfect.”
Krys shoved his empty glass away. “Not anymore.”
