MY BIKER ALPHA

CHAPTER TWO : UNEXPECTED EMOTIONS

Pierce’s eyes widened as instinct took over. He swerved hard to the left, the bike tilting dangerously as the tires screeched against the asphalt. Time seemed to stretch, the world narrowing to the fragile figure frozen in front of him and the violent pull of momentum fighting his grip.

“Move!” he shouted, though the word was ripped apart by the wind.

She didn’t.

At the last possible second, Pierce slammed the brakes. The bike skidded, sliding sideways before stopping mere inches from her. The force threw him forward, but he held on, boots scraping against the road as he fought to keep the bike upright.

Silence followed—thick and suffocating.

Her eyes were wide, shock etched into every line of her face. She stood there, trembling, as though her body had forgotten how to obey her mind.

Pierce cut the engine and swung off the bike in one swift motion. “Are you out of your mind?” he snapped, his voice rough, adrenaline still roaring through him. “You could’ve been killed.”

The words hung between them, harsh but honest.

She swallowed, finally finding her voice. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you. I was thinking—”

“Clearly,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Then he really looked at her.

She wasn’t reckless. She wasn’t careless. She looked… broken. Her coat hung loosely on her frame, her arms wrapped around herself as if she were holding something together that was threatening to fall apart.

His anger faltered.

“You okay?” he asked, the edge in his tone softening despite himself.

She nodded, though her hands shook. “I think so.”

Pierce exhaled slowly, relief washing through him. He glanced at the empty street, then back at her. “You shouldn’t walk around like that. Paris isn’t always forgiving.”

A faint, humorless smile touched her lips. “Neither is life.”

The words struck him harder than the near collision.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The city lights flickered above them, the quiet street bearing witness to two strangers standing far too close after nearly colliding—not just bodies, but paths.

Pierce broke the silence. “Let me at least walk you across.”

She hesitated, then nodded.

As they stepped onto the pavement together, Pierce couldn’t shake the strange feeling curling in his chest—like whatever he’d been searching for all these years had finally stepped into his path.

And he had almost lost it to the road.

They walked in silence, their footsteps echoing softly against the pavement. Pierce couldn’t help but notice the way her expressions shifted—subtle, fleeting changes that crossed her lovely face as her thoughts wandered. She was beautiful. Her blonde hair danced with the wind, catching the streetlights, and her eyes glowed like stars against the night sky.

He sensed her heartbeat gradually slowing, then quickening again—excitement mixing with relief. Beneath it all lingered a faint trace of doubt, sharp and unmistakable in her scent.

Pierce sighed and stopped walking, turning to face her.

“Is there something you want to say to me?” he asked gently.

She looked up at him, confused at first—then her eyes widened in realization. “Oh! I—I didn’t even thank you.” She bit her lip. “Thank you for saving me. And… don’t worry, I promise I’ll get you a new bike,” she added quickly, as though afraid he might interrupt.

He barely stopped himself from laughing.

She? Buy him a new bike?

Did she think he was broke?

Interesting.

Pierce remained silent, studying her. She shifted under his gaze, anxiety flickering across her face. Had she said something wrong? She had only thanked him—why wasn’t he responding?

Her heartbeat began to race again.

He noticed instantly.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said at last, offering her a warm smile. “But thank you for the gesture. I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

Relief softened her features, and she smiled back. Her gaze drifted ahead, toward an apartment building now only a short distance away. She sighed quietly, as though returning to reality.

Then she turned back to him, hesitating. “Can I… have your number?”

The uncertainty in her voice was unmistakable.

Pierce’s smile turned effortlessly charming. “Of course.”

He recited his number, watching as she repeated it softly to herself, committing it to memory.

As they reached her building, Pierce had the unsettling feeling that this meeting—this near accident—was no accident at all.

*****

Once they reached her building, she turned to him with a wide smile and waved goodbye. The gesture was almost childish—and to his surprise, Pierce found himself grinning back at her.

She walked to the door, unlocked it, and slipped inside. Only after the door closed softly behind her did Pierce turn and disappear into the night.

*****

From inside, she lingered by the door, watching through the window as his figure faded into the darkness. Her heart raced as the sound of his voice replayed over and over in her mind. She couldn’t explain the way it made her feel—steady, warm, unsettling in the best way.

Her cheeks flushed as his concerned expression surfaced in her thoughts.

If only he were my boyfriend…

She let out a quiet sigh and made her way down the hallway toward her room, still lost in her imagination. The thought refused to leave her.

What if he were her boyfriend?

He would make the perfect boyfriend.

Or… she paused, a slow smile forming.

The perfect fake boyfriend.

*****

Pierce didn’t make it far before he slowed to a stop.

The night swallowed the sound of his bike as he leaned against a lamppost, exhaling slowly. He told himself he was only giving her time to get inside safely—but even after the building lights flickered on, he remained where he was.

He shouldn’t care.

And yet… he did.

Her smile lingered in his mind, bright and unguarded. The way she had waved at him—small, awkward, genuine—had struck something dangerously unfamiliar in his chest. He pressed a hand over his heart, frowning as its rhythm refused to steady.

This was a mistake.

He inhaled deeply, letting the cool Paris air fill his lungs. Her scent still clung to him—soft, warm, threaded with uncertainty and something else he couldn’t quite name. Hope, perhaps. Or longing.

Both were things he had sworn off long ago.

Pierce straightened, pushing away from the lamppost. As he turned back toward his bike, his fingers brushed the worn leather of his father’s jacket. The familiar weight grounded him, reminding him of why he kept his distance—why he never stayed.

People got hurt when he did.

And yet, despite himself, his thoughts drifted back to her.

The way her heartbeat had betrayed her calm. The courage it took for her to ask for his number. The faint sadness beneath her smile—subtle, but unmistakable.

She was hiding something.

So was he.

Pierce swung onto his bike and started the engine. The roar cut through the quiet street, sharp and final. As he rode away, he told himself it was nothing more than chance—a near accident, a brief encounter, a passing moment.

But deep down, he knew better.

Fate had a way of finding him.

And tonight, it had worn blonde hair and star-bright eyes.