The Biker Alpha's Obession

Chapter-5 The Unwanted Pull

Hope's POV

After changing into comfortable workout clothes, I made my way downstairs to the rear grounds, where Ryder was already waiting for me.

"Alright, shall we start?" I muttered, eager to distract my mind.

He smiled, nodding. "Yes, but before that, I have a gift for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch. "To congratulate you on your new beginning."

"Oh... thanks, Ryder," I smiled.

"It's something small," he added as I fumbled with the pouch, revealing a delicate silver bracelet decorated with heart-shaped charms and shimmering crystals.

"This is beautiful," I said, gazing up at him. "Help me wear it?"

Ryder looked deeply pleased as I held out my wrist. He stepped closer, his fingers gentle as he fastened the bracelet around it.

For a split second, I noticed something in his gaze that felt different from simple brotherly affection. Before I could process it, he looked away and instructed me to start warming up.

As I moved, Ryder pulled off his leather vest and tossed it onto the bench. Looking closer, I noticed the words and insignia embroidered across the leather.

Black Banner Motorcycle Club.

“Why do you always wear that?” I asked.

"It's called a cut," Ryder explained. "It's a biker's vest. Every member earns one after they're patched into the club. The patches show which club you belong to, your rank, and your chapter."

I stared at him blankly. I had no idea what any of that meant.

I opened my mouth to ask, but the words caught in my throat as Ryder pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing a perfectly sculpted body.

For the briefest moment, I found myself staring. Has he always been like this?

"Alright, eyes on me, princess," Ryder said, stepping behind me. "First thing is your guard. Feet shoulder-width apart, knees bent."

My face flushed, and I quickly looked away as he nudged my heel wider with his foot before resting his hands lightly on my hips to square them forward.

"Keep your weight centered. Otherwise, the first heavy hit will send you flying."

"Like this?"

"Almost." He tucked my elbows closer to my ribs. "Hands up. Protect your jaw. Now throw a jab."

I punched the air, but my footing slipped. Ryder only chuckled softly before stepping in again. His chest almost brushed my back as he reached around to adjust my wrist.

"Smooth and controlled," he murmured, his breath catching the shell of my ear. "Try again."

When I glanced back over my shoulder, I found Ryder already looking at me. Our eyes met, and for the first time in all the years I'd known him, I really looked at him.

He was undeniably handsome. Sun-kissed skin, messy blond hair, a beautifully sculpted body, and ocean-blue eyes that always seemed to smile. There was an easy warmth about him that made me relax, unlike…

I violently shook my head, cutting off the thought before it could finish.

Oh, for f**k’s sake. Why can’t my wolf just let him go?

The moment shattered, and Ryder quickly stepped back, clearing his throat.

That was... weird.

"It doesn't take a genius to see he doesn't look at you like a little sister," my wolf snorted. "That man is completely smitten with you."

What?

Is that why Harper was trying to set us up?

My stomach knotted at the thought. Ryder was someone I'd known and trusted for years. Under any other circumstances, I probably would have been flattered.

But when I looked at him now, all I could think about was someone else. Of him.

No matter how much I tried to push the stranger from my mind, my wolf refused to let him go. The mate bond was a f*****g cruel thing.

I stepped back, wrapping my arms around myself as I tried to quiet the turmoil inside me.

"I... I'm sorry, Ryder, but I don't think I'm feeling well enough to continue today."

Before he could ask what was wrong, I turned and hurried back toward the house. I'd apologize once I got my head straight.

I bolted upstairs and slammed my bedroom door shut, leaning against it until my breathing finally steadied.

Shaking my head, I gazed up, and my eyes landed on the clothes I'd worn last night, still lying in a heap at the foot of the bed. Grimacing, I scooped them up and headed for the laundry basket.

And that’s when it hit me.

Wait... where was my handbag?

I dropped the clothes, my eyes sweeping over the room as panic surged straight to my throat. It was nowhere to be seen. I immediately tore through the closet, ripped back the bedsheets, and checked under the bed twice, but it wasn't there.

Oh no, no. This was a disaster. My ID, my bank cards—everything was in that bag. And I had left it in his hotel room last night. f**k.

I needed to go back and get it ASAP. One quick trip. In and out. No big deal.

And anyway, what were the odds of running into him again…

Right?