Angela pulled back the string to let go of the arrow, but she missed the target. She shot another and another but missed all of them; she couldn't hit the bullseye.
"You're distracted," Zayden noted from behind her.
Angela sighed, downcast at his words. She lowered the bow to her side and turned to fully face Zayden. The sun highlighted his skin, and his silky hair was styled in his usual way. She wondered how it would feel if she wove her hand through it. The white shirt didn't cling to his body, but she could perfectly make out his shape.
"Zayden." It was the first time his name had left her lips.
Zayden stilled. The sound of his name from her lips felt like a prayer. The softness of her voice as she pronounced the one word, two syllables, six letters had him thinking. His name sounded so right from her lips—so religious, though he wasn't religious. He was caught in a turmoil when Angela asked him a mind-numbing question.
