hapter 145
I had some trouble with my bike on the way over, he explained, running a hand over his jaw. But it’s fixed nore
I took the flowers from him, our hands brushing in the exchange. Even that innocent touch sent warmth spreading through my body like homey I walked over to where I’d been arranging all his daily offerings, adding the new bouquet to the growing collection.
My house is starting to look like a flower shop, I commented, but there was no real complaint in my voice. Each bouquet represented another day of hos patient pursuit, another day of him showing me without words how he felt.
By the time we returned from the company that evening, it was already getting dark. I’d insisted on watching Tristan train instead of having him work with me on my own racing skills. With a big race coming up in just a few days, I wanted him focused on his own preparation.
It had been fascinating to watch him work. Behind the wheel, Tristan transformed into something almost magical. All the careful control be maintained in
everyday life fell away, replaced by pure instinct and skill.
He moved with the bike like they were extensions of each other, every turn and acceleration perfectly calculated and executed. Watching him race up close
and alone felt like watching poetry in motion.
I’d tried to act like a proper trainer, timing his laps and calling out encouragement, but mostly I’d just been mesmerized by the sight of him in his element.
Now, back at my apartment, I felt tired but also strangely energized. There was a heat flowing through my veins that had nothing to do with the physical exertion of the day and everything to do with the man standing in my living room.
Claire was back to her relentless commentary, filling my head with suggestions and demands. She kept insisting that tonight had to be the night, that she didn’t care how I made it happen, but something had to change between Tristan and me.
When Tristan positioned himself in the living room, clearly intending to maintain the same respectful distance he always did, something inside me snapped. I was tired of the waiting, tired of the tension, tired of feeling like we were both dancing around something inevitable.
I needed to find a way to break through his carefully maintained control, to show him that I was ready for whatever came next.
Desperation clawed at me, but I couldn’t find the words, couldn’t figure out how to bridge the gap between us with mere conversation.
So, I acted on impulse.
From the bedroom, I let out a sharp yelp, feigning pain. I’d already stripped down in a rush, wrapping a towel around me loosely. Desperate? Absolutely
Blame Claire.
I knew he’d hear it, no matter how soft. All I needed was a sound that sounded like pain, I knew that was the best way to Summon him
Seconds later, the door burst open. ‘Are you okay? Whats wrong?
He scanned the room, eyes wide with concern, body coiled like a spring.
“I… think I sprained my ankle,” I said, my voice wavering, laced with pretend agony. I clutched at my foot, wincing for effect.
Without hesitation, he scooped me up bridal–style, his arms strong and warm around me. My heart raced as he carried me to the bed, lowering me gently onto the sheets.
But as he set me down, the towel slipped–unraveling just enough to fall open. Cool air kissed my bare skin, and I lay there exposed, every curve on display.
2/3
15.2
The Biker Alpha Who Became My Second Chance Mate
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
