My sister’s boyfriend.
Chapter Two
Arrow.
It’s a crazy name, isn’t it?
I always thought so.
Crazy and unique and completely his.
I can’t imagine anyone else having that name. I can’t imagine anyone elseowningthat name like he does.
He wears it.
In every part of his sculpted face and his sleek body.
From his arched and arrogant-looking eyebrows to his high cheekbones.
God, his cheekbones.
They’re so sharp and yet so gracefully made that they almost cast a shadow on his jaw. His very angular and slanting jaw.
And then there’s his body.
It’s not bulky or massive but muscled and trim. Tanned from running under the sun. Athletic. Built for speed and precision on the soccer field.
Actually, every part of him is built and designed with such careful precision. Like someone up there decided to take their time with him. They decided to sit down and pick up tools,hammers and chisels so they could sculpt him and chip away at him and make him stunning.
That’s what he is.
Arrow Carlisle, the love of my life, is stunning.
Always has been, ever since he was fifteen and I was ten, and I saw him for the first time.
Even though it was eight years ago, I remember everything.
I can tell you that it was early morning and the sunlight was streaming through the window like laser beams. Everything was bathed in yellow in that room, the kitchen to be specific. Orange, even.
I was wedged between a china cabinet and the wall, sitting on the floor, my knees hugged to my chest. I had a blanket wrapped around myself and yet, I was cold.
So cold.
I’d made rounds of the entire house, trying to find a spot where I could find some warmth, but so far, I’d been unsuccessful.
But then, he burst through the kitchen door, all sweaty and panting.
I remember thinking that he was tall. And that when he moved through the space, the sunlight rippled. The rays cast tiny patterns on his tall form.
He made a beeline to the sink and turned on the tap. He threw water over his face, his neck, and he did it so violently, with such agitated gestures that a few drops landed on my cheek.
I flinched automatically, thinking that it would feel cold.
But it didn’t.
The water that he touched with his hands, that landed on me, did not feel cold at all. In fact, it made me feel warm.
His whole presence made me feel warm.
