The Biker Alpha Who Became My Second Chance Mate Chapter 19

"Distressed," I repeat, and I can't help the bitter laugh that escapes. If only he knew. If only he understood that the distress isn't from the dream itself, but from waking up and losing it.

I push my hair back from my face, trying to gather my composure, but my hands are shaking slightly. The dream felt so real, his touch, his words, the way he looked at me like I was everything he'd ever wanted.

"No, not distressed. Just... weird dreams, you know? Nightmares about..... London"

The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, but it's easier than the truth. Easier than admitting I was dreaming about him in ways that would make him see me as pathetic. Again.

Tristan's expression immediately shifts to one of concern, and I hate myself for using my trauma as a shield. But I can't tell him the truth.

I can't handle seeing that look of uncomfortable pity in his eyes, the same look he gave me five years ago when he realized what I thought was happening between us.

"Are you okay?" His voice is gentle, brotherly. Exactly what I don't want but exactly what I expected. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm fine," I say quickly, pulling the blanket tighter around myself. "Really. Just... give me a few minutes to get dressed?"

He nods, standing up from the bed. "Take your time. I'll make some coffee."

After he leaves, I bury my face in my pillow and let out a muffled scream of frustration. My body is still humming from the dream, still aching for touches that will never come. Not from him. Not the way I want them.

I need to get control of myself. I came back here to rebuild my life, not to pine after a man who sees me as nothing more than his best friend's broken little sister.

By the time I make it downstairs, showered and dressed in jeans and an oversized sweater, Tristan has coffee waiting and is already on his phone canceling something.

"You don't have to stay home because of me," I tell him, though part of me is secretly relieved he's not leaving. I don't want to be alone with my thoughts today.

"I want to," he says simply, tucking his phone away. "Besides, I think we both could use a quiet day."

The way he says it makes me wonder if he's struggling with something too, but I don't ask. I can't handle learning about whatever woman has him looking tired and stressed.

We settle into an easy routine. He makes breakfast while I pretend to read the newspaper. We eat in comfortable silence, though I'm hyperaware of every movement he makes, every casual touch when he reaches across me for the salt.

"I was thinking we could just relax today," he says as he clears the dishes. "Maybe watch some movies? Order takeout later?"

I nod, not trusting my voice. A whole day of pretending to be normal around him while my body still remembers every detail of my dream.

Every two hours, like clockwork, he checks on me.

"You doing okay?" he asks, appearing in the living room doorway while I'm curled up with a book I'm not actually reading.

"I'm fine, Tristan. You don't have to keep checking on me."

But he does it anyway. When I'm in the kitchen getting water, he materializes to ask if I need anything. When I'm upstairs changing into more comfortable clothes, he calls up to make sure I'm alright.

It's sweet. Protective. Exactly the kind of thing a caring older brother figure would do for someone he's worried about. Same way Orion would react.

And it's driving me insane.

I don't want him to treat me like his little sister, not today, not after that hot steamy dream.

.Around noon, he appears with a bag from my favorite deli.

"Thought you might be hungry," he says, unpacking sandwiches and chips onto the coffee table.

"You didn't have to....." I start, but he cuts me off with a look.

"Let me take care of you, Athena. Just for today."

The words send a shiver through me that I desperately try to hide. He means it in the most innocent way possible, but my traitorous body responds like he's promising something entirely different.

I can feel my fold twitching with his words. He has no idea what he's doing to me.

I don't know why I'm acting like a slut; just last night I was crying my eyes out, now a few hours later I'm craving my sexy hot big brother.

When he hands me my sandwich, our fingers brush, and I feel that electric shock again. It's so intense I actually jerk my hand back, nearly dropping the food.

Tristan notices immediately, his brow furrowing with concern, but he doesn't say anything. Just gives me that same gentle, worried look that makes me feel even more pathetic.

It's just because I haven't had a release, I tell myself firmly. It's been months since... well, since anything. My body is just hypersensitive right now. It has nothing to do with him specifically.

But even as I think it, I know it's a lie.

"Want to watch something?" he suggests after lunch, already reaching for the remote.

I should say no. Should make an excuse and go hide in my room until I can get my reactions under control, or maybe put bob in action. But I find myself nodding instead.

"Sure. You pick."

He settles on some action movie I've never heard of, and we arrange ourselves on opposite ends of the couch. But somehow, as the movie progresses, the space between us seems to shrink.

When a particularly loud explosion makes me jump, his hand lands on my shoulder, steady and warm.

"Hey, it's okay," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing small circles against my collarbone. "It's just a movie."

The innocent touch sends fire racing through my veins, and I can't stop the small gasp that escapes me. I pull away quickly, tucking myself into the corner of the couch.

Tristan's hand falls away, and when I risk a glance at him, he's studying me with that same concerned expression.

"Athena," he says quietly. "You keep pulling away from me."

My cheeks burn. "I'm not......"

"You are." His voice is patient but firm. "Every time I touch you, you flinch like you expect me to hurt you."

If only it were that simple.

"I don't....." I start, but he's already moving closer, ignoring my obvious discomfort.

"Listen to me," he says, his voice taking on that authoritative tone that makes my stomach flutter. "I need you to understand something. I will never hurt you. Never. You're safe with me, always."

He reaches out slowly, giving me time to pull away, and cups my cheek in his palm. The touch is gentle, brotherly, meant to be comforting.

Instead, it makes me want to cry out his name. It make me completely wet for him.

"You need to learn to accept my touch," he continues, his thumb stroking along my cheekbone. "I know you've been through hell, and I know it's going to take time to trust again. But I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not going to hurt you."

How do I do that? When I'm trying to see him as just an elder brother.

He's being so kind. So patient and understanding. Everything a good man should be when dealing with someone who's been through what I have.

But all I can think about is how much I want him to kiss me. How much I want him to touch me the way he did in my dream. How desperately I want him to see me as something other than damaged goods who needs to be handled with care.

"I know," I whisper, because it's the only response I can manage that won't completely humiliate me.

"Good." He gives me a soft smile and lets his hand fall away. "Now, can we finish this terrible movie, or should we find something else?"

I force myself to smile back. "This is fine."

But it's not fine. Nothing about this is fine.

He might not hurt me physically, but he's destroying me in ways he doesn't even realize. Making me feel things I shouldn't feel, want things I can't have.

Making me fall even deeper in love with someone who will never see me as anything more than his broken little sister.

As the movie continues, I curl deeper into my corner of the couch and try to convince myself that this ache in my chest is just leftover trauma. Just my damaged psyche confusing care with something else.

But when I catch him watching me with those dark, unreadable eyes, I know I'm lying to myself.

Some wounds, I'm learning, never really heal.

They just teach you to live with the pain.