The Biker Alpha Who Became My Second Chance Mate Chapter 43

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said, looking genuinely apologetic.

I immediately turned my gaze away from him, staring at anything and everything except his face. The counter. The cabinets. The coffee maker. Anywhere but those eyes that had been looking at me so intensely last night.

"It's okay, just my reflexes," I said quickly, trying to sound normal and probably failing completely.

"How was your night?" he asked, and his voice sounded perfectly casual, like nothing had happened between us at all.

"Fine. Fine," I said way too quickly, trying to look busy with anything I could find.

There was a pause, and then he asked, "What are you doing?"

My heart stopped completely. This was it. He was going to bring up the kiss. He was going to ask me what the hell I thought I was doing yesterday.

Or maybe say, what happened yesterday was inappropriate and that we needed to pretend it never happened. What was I supposed to say? That I'd temporarily lost my mind?

I'm going to die of embarrassment right here in the kitchen.

"Huh?" was all I managed to say, raising my eyebrows and trying to look confused instead of terrified.

"Are you trying to wash that bottle of water?" he asked, and I could hear the amusement in his voice.

I followed his gaze down to my hands and realized I was holding the bottle of water under the kitchen faucet, scrubbing it with my other hand like it was dirty.

Oh my God. I was literally trying to wash a bottle of water. Like it needed to be cleaned. Like that made any sense at all.

I dropped the bottle immediately, and I could feel my face turning about fifty shades of red. A nervous laugh escaped me, even though what I really wanted to do was disappear into thin air.

Who washes bottled water? Apparently the same person who kisses grieving men at the worst possible moment.

I just couldn't stop showing him how much he affected me, and he definitely knew it.

I could see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he turned around and headed toward the door.

But just as he was about to leave, he paused and said over his shoulder, "You look like someone who got dragged through hell. You probably shouldn't go out looking like that. Fix yourself."

Then he was gone, leaving me standing there with my mouth hanging open.

I pressed my hand to my chest, trying to get my breathing under control. At least he hadn't brought up the kiss. That was something, right?

But then his last words hit me like a slap in the face.

Fix yourself? He told me to fix myself?

He was right – I did look exactly like someone who'd been dragged through hell. But still, that wasn't exactly the nicest way to tell a woman she looked terrible. All the fear and embarrassment from last night suddenly transformed into pure irritation.

I gritted my teeth together. That wasn't how you talked to a lady, even if she did look like a zombie.

"Fuck you, Tristan Hayes," I muttered under my breath.

"I heard that" I heard him say as he chuckle from somewhere outside the kitchen.

I froze. His voice came from outside the kitchen, but he should have been long gone by now. How could he possibly have heard me from that distance?

I looked around the empty kitchen, confused and a little spooked. There was no way he could have heard me whisper that from wherever he was in the house.

How could he hear me from that far away? That was weird.

Unless...

No. That was impossible. Werewolf hearing was good, but it wasn't that good. Was it?

I shook my head and decided I was just being paranoid. He probably hadn't heard anything. He was probably already gone, and I was just imagining things because I was still rattled from last night.

I needed to get out of this house before I did something else embarrassing. But first, I really did need to fix myself. As much as I hated to admit it, Tristan was right about how I looked.

I trudged back upstairs to my room and spent the next hour trying to make myself look human again. Concealer for the dark circles. A little blush so I didn't look like a corpse. Some mascara to make my eyes look less dead inside.

When I was finally presentable, I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. I'd go to the garage early, maybe grab breakfast somewhere along the way. Anything to avoid another awkward encounter with Tristan. I was going to head to the garage myself today, not just because of Tristan.

But because it's the best way to start a fresh, to prove to myself I'm getting better and becoming the woman I'm meant to be.

But as I was leaving, I still couldn't help but think about that moment when he'd said he heard me. His voice had been so clear, like he was standing right next to me instead of somewhere else in the house.

Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me. Maybe I was more shaken up by everything than I thought.

Or maybe it was perk of becoming an Alpha. True, that was it. I sometimes forgot he'd become one.

I pushed the thought away as I got into a car that was packed in the compound. I found the keys on the shelf, I'm sure it belongs to Tristan.

The garage was blissfully quiet when I arrived. I was the first one there, which meant I had some time to collect myself before having to face other people.

I threw myself into work, organizing parts and checking inventory, trying to keep my mind busy so it wouldn't wander back to last night.

But every few minutes, I'd catch myself touching my lips or remembering the way Tristan had gone completely still when I'd kissed him.

Had it been that bad? Had I completely misread the situation?

I mean, he'd opened up to me about the most painful experience of his life. He'd been vulnerable and honest, and I'd responded by throwing myself at him like some kind of predator.

No wonder he'd frozen up. He'd probably been shocked and disgusted.

I shouldn't be thinking about this, this is like the hundredth times I'm thinking about it. I should let it go.

Let it go Athena.

"You're here early."

I spun around to find Leah standing in the doorway, looking bright and cheerful in a way that made my own misery feel even more obvious.

"Couldn't sleep," I said, trying to sound casual.

She studied my face with the keen eye of someone who'd become a good friend over the past few weeks. "You look terrible. What happened?"

"Thanks for the confidence boost," I said dryly. "That's the second time today someone's told me I look like hell."

"Who was the first?" she asked, settling onto a stool next to my workbench.

"Tristan."

"Ah." She nodded like that explained everything. "Did you two have a fight?"

"Not exactly." I focused very hard on the wrench I was cleaning. "More like I did something incredibly stupid."

"How stupid are we talking? Like, accidentally stupid or intentionally stupid?

But no matter how stupid it was, I'm sure he wouldn't hold you to it. Because you're his little sister."