The Biker Alpha Who Became My Second Chance Mate Chapter 64

Athena's POV

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Tristan was gone just like yesterday.

I tried not to read too much into it as I got dressed, pulling on jeans and a soft sweater that still smelled faintly of his cologne from when he'd held me.

I walked to the kitchen with a strange lightness in my step, already planning what I'd cook for us.

Maybe his favorite pancakes with fresh berries, or that omelet he always complimented me on.

For once, I wasn't going to bring up family or siblings or any of the walls we'd built between us.

Last night had been my third time, and somehow it had left me wanting more. Not just the physical part, though that had been incredible, but more of him.

More of the way he looked at me like I was the only woman in the world. More of the way he whispered my name against my skin.

I knew It was dangerous, of course I knew and that was why I shoved the thought off immediately.

I was cracking eggs into a bowl when I heard his bike roar to life outside. My hands stilled, confusion washing over me. Tristan never left this early on a Sunday. He had nowhere to go, no work obligations, no meetings that couldn't wait.

Where was he going?

Maybe he needed to pick something up from the store. He'd be back soon. Tristan wouldn't just leave me alone, not when he'd made such a big deal about always protecting me.

Even if I didn't need his protection, I'd gotten used to having him around. His presence had become as natural as breathing.

And part of me had started to trust that he wouldn't hurt me again like he had five years ago.

"He wouldn't try it," Ciara said, her voice appearing in my head for the first time in days.

"Where have you been?" I snapped at her mentally. "Aren't you supposed to be with me always?"

"When you were screaming Tristan's name last night, did you think about me?"

Heat flooded my cheeks even though no one could see me. She was right, of course. I'd been completely lost in him, in us, in the way he'd made me feel alive again.

"But I don't blame you," Ciara continued. "Tristan is...."

I cut her off before she could finish. Ciara had a way of planting ideas in my head, making me want things I shouldn't want. Things that might be too much to ask for.

The food was ready twenty minutes later. I set two plates on the dining table and waited, checking my phone every few minutes for a text that never came. An hour passed, then two. The eggs grew cold, the toast turned stale, and still no sign of him.

Finally, I ate alone, each bite tasting like disappointment. When I finished, I took both plates back to the kitchen and scraped his untouched breakfast into the trash with more force than necessary.

I didn't need to depend on anyone. I could be fine on my own.

Back in my room, I grabbed my phone and dialed Drake's number. He picked up on the first ring.

"Hello?"

Relief flooded through me at the sound of his familiar voice.

"Hi, Drake."

"Say what you want to say. I'm busy, girl," he said in that hurried way that used to drive me crazy but now just made me smile.

"I miss you." The words came out in a rush. "I miss you so much, and I'm sorry for cutting you off."

There was a pause, and I could picture him stopping whatever he was doing to give me his full attention.

"Where are you?" he asked, his tone softer now.

"I'm home."

"Good. And congratulations, by the way. Heard what you did to that narcissist at your mating ceremony. I've never been more proud of you." The weight I'd been carrying on my shoulders seemed to lift a little.

We talked for what felt like minutes but turned into hours. I told him about rejecting Daxon, about losing the baby, about everything that had happened since I'd shut him out of my life.

He told me about his mate, someone he described as "a complete surprise but the best kind."

"You're invited to our mating ceremony," he said near the end of our conversation. "And here's the good news, it's not happening in London. We're doing it here, actually. I'm planning to relocate to my family's house with my mate."

"Really? That's amazing, Drake."

"I know, right? Oh, and before I forget, Amelia's been asking about you constantly. Want her number?"

I did want it. I wanted to rebuild all the connections I'd let Daxon tear apart.

When we finally hung up, I realized we'd been talking for three hours. Drake, who'd claimed to be busy, had spent his entire afternoon listening to me process my life. That was friendship.

Tristan still wasn't back.

I tried to tell myself I didn't care. He had his own life, his own problems to deal with. Just because we'd slept together didn't mean I owned his time.

I called Leah instead, and she agreed to meet me for an impromptu training session.

We found a secluded spot away from her usual gym, and she put me through two hours of the most intense workout I'd ever experienced.

My muscles screamed and my lungs burned, but it felt good to push my body, to focus on something other than where Tristan might be.

Afterward, she invited me to her place, and I stayed until evening, helping her plan wedding details and pretending I wasn't checking my phone every few minutes.

I thought about going to Orion's, but he'd ask where Tristan was, and I didn't have an answer.

I didn't want to admit that the man who'd sworn to protect me had disappeared without a word the morning after we'd done something we couldn't say.

When I got home at nine that night, the house felt eerily quiet. Tristan's bike wasn't in the driveway. It was like he'd never existed at all.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about how empty the space beside me felt. Tomorrow was Monday, and I'd have to face Orion at work.

He'd be back from his family emergency, and we'd all be together again. I needed to look like I had my life together, not like I'd spent the day wondering if I'd imagined the connection I thought I'd felt with Tristan.

At exactly six in the morning, I heard the familiar rumble of his motorcycle pulling into the driveway. Something inside my chest loosened with relief, even though I was still hurt that he'd left without saying anything.

I told myself I wasn't going downstairs. I told myself I'd let him come to me, let him explain where he'd been for almost twenty-four hours.

But my feet carried me down the stairs anyway, drawn by something I didn't want to name.

.

I found him in the entryway, he was swaying slightly, like he couldn't quite find his balance, and I knew immediately that he was drunk.

"Tristan?" I said softly, reaching out to steady him.

He jerked away from my touch like it burned him. "Get the fuck away from me."

Everything inside me froze, my blood turning to ice in my veins.