I repeat: Bitch. Released. The. Arrow.

I watched, paralyzed from the neck down, as it spun toward me. I could swear it was going to nail my throat to the door. It missed by an inch, spearing the door right above my shoulder. Swallowing, I glanced to my left, realizing the arrow had caught some of my hoodie’s fabric and was physically nailing me to the door.

She drew another arrow, nonchalant as all fucks.

“You missed.” I narrowed my eyes, staring her dead in the eye.

“Fool.” She smiled back. “I never miss.”

“I’d rather be the one nailing you against the door.” I flashed her a Joker-style psychotic smirk, my rage toward my pint-sized, stubborn roommate spiraling into a pool of more unidentified feelings.

Thrill. Curiosity. Horniness. (Fine, there was always horniness. Sue me.)

She popped her healthy shoulder up. “Should’ve thought of that before you called me Carrot Top.”

“You little sh—”

Pluck.

She released the second arrow, this time getting the right side of my hoodie. I was now pinned from both sides. She lowered her bow, striding toward me with her chin up, a queen observing a traitor thrown at her feet. My dick was about to slip out of my sweatpants and curl around her ankle like an eager puppy. A weird image, but the sentiment was clear.

Sailor stopped with her mouth close to mine, and I couldn’t deny the attraction. It was there—alive, swelling, roaring its three-headed, monstrous crown, cutting me open and bleeding me dry. I was on the brink of goddamn madness, caused by the most unassuming, innocent, dorky girl on the planet.

Fuck. My. Life.

“I’ll release you if you promise to step away from the door.” Her mouth moved against mine.

I don’t think she realized just how close we were to kissing territory. How I could demolish her. Effortlessly, I flexed my shoulders, causing her arrows to drop to the floor with a yielding clink. My expression dead, I grabbed her waist, turned her around, and slammed her back against the door, getting in her face now.

“Better.” I brushed my lips down her nose, pausing half an inch from her mouth. “Much, much better.”

I grabbed her wrists, bunching them together and pinning them above her head. She winced at the full motion of her shoulder. I wanted to punch myself for forgetting, but honestly, I wasn’t even sure of my birthdate at the moment.

“Just so we’re clear, you may be my babysitter, but you don’t call the shots. You do not boss me around, you do not make stupid-ass decisions with your body. Finally, you do not fucking hunt me. I’m the hunter here, sweetheart. And you? The goddamn prey.”

Her eyes blazed with fire, her jaw locked. I wanted to step into her pupils and let them kill me. She was a war prisoner accepting her fate to die a hero, without betraying one national secret.

“Your name may be Hunter, but make no mistakes—you’ll never catch me.”

I smirked, trailing my index finger from her jaw down to her neck. She writhed against my body, the space between us shrinking, and not just because of me.

“Already did, aingeal dian. Want to know something else? I will domesticate you, too.”

“Let go of me.” Her lips thinned, her voice dancing with barely controlled temper. “I have to go. You heard Lana Alder. She wants my spot. I’m not going down without a fight.”

“You’re going all the way down to retirement if you fuck your shoulder up.”

“It’s not for you to decide.”

“The doctor decided.”

“You don’t understand!” She stomped, her cheeks pinking.

I figured there was a story behind her and the Alder chick, but now wasn’t the time to delve into it. Sailor’s breathing became labored. She balled her hands into fists and jerked around, trying to break free from my grasp.

“Sailor?”

“What?”

“Now,” I enunciated.

“Now what?” She bared her teeth, trying to kick me.

The need to tame her made my blood boil. I wanted to fight her to the ground and devour her, ending her and ending me.

Whoa. What?

“I’d like to cash in on that kiss now.”

“What?” Sailor’s eyes were the biggest, greenest, funkiest things I’d ever seen. “What are you talking about?”

She hadn’t forgotten the kiss. I knew because, in the rare times we were in the same room, I sometimes caught her staring at my lips and wondering. I wondered, too. We both wondered all the fucking time.

“You’re a terrible actress. Granted, probably still better than Lana Alder, but dreadful nonetheless.” I leaned into her. Our breaths mingled. Minty toothpaste from her, coffee and cinnamon gum from me.

“We…we can’t kiss.” Sailor squirmed, her tits accidentally brushing against my torso through our respective clothes. Her nipples were puckered. “We’re fighting!”

“All the better. Pissing you off is my only source of entertainment here in Boston, and this kiss is my out-of-jail card. My insurance.”

“Your monthly payment will go up if you use your insurance, you know.” She quirked one ginger eyebrow. “The next one will be harder to get.”

“Guess I’ll have to take my fucking chances.” I erased the two inches left between us, crashing my mouth on hers.