Chapter 16 A bad morning
“Gotcha, my sweet one,” Alex revved up as he gave chase. A smile tugged at his lips as his eyes stayed locked on the rider ahead. “Beautiful one, where are you heading in such a hurry?” he muttered, voice low with amusement and urgency. “I just need a minute… just your name and number. We need to talk. We can’t keep playing this game forever, hmm.” He whispered to himself again with a smirk.
Determined, he leaned forward on the wheel, engine growling as he began weaving through traffic like a possessed man. He overtook one car, then another, cutting through lanes, ignoring the honks and frustrated drivers. His only focus was on the rider ahead, who wore a helmet covering his curly brown hair. He was slim, fast, and graceful on the bike like he was born to ride. A handsome man who bore a striking resemblance to his lucky charm giver.
But the more Alex closed the gap, the more the rider seemed to slip just beyond his reach, like a shadow teasing him through the rush-hour chaos.
Still, Alex refused to give up. “Come on, just slow down a little,” he growled, teeth gritted as he made another sharp turn.
Then—traffic. A thick wall of it. Cars jammed from end to end, horns blaring in all directions.
“Shit!” Alex hit the brakes hard, tires screeching as his car halted behind a double line of buses. His eyes darted ahead, trying to catch a glimpse of the rider.
But the mystery man—light, fast, and agile had slipped between the gridlock like water through cracks. He kept reducing in sight and then he vanished.
“Damn it!” Alex slammed his hand against the steering wheel, fury boiling under his skin. “Why is fate not on my goddamn side? Fuck this” he cursed audibly.
A snarl of traffic choked the next junction, cars locked in place like a frozen sea of metal. Horns kept blaring, people kept shouting, Alex tried to push through, swerving, weaving, even bumping a mirror, but why bother when he knew he would not see him again?
“Damn it!” he slammed the handlebars, his knuckles pale with tension. Frustration burned in his chest all the way to the office.
By the time he walked in, his energy was pure storm. His staff instantly stiffened, sensing the thundercloud in his mood. He barely acknowledged greetings. One intern dropped a file and nearly cried when Alex barked, “Do I look like I have time for this nonsense?! Can't you do a simple task right?”
The girl whimpered, “I'm sorry sir, I didn't…”
Angrily, he raised his palm, cutting her short. “Enough, I don't need your explanation, just do your gaddamn job well. That's not fucking much to ask.”
“She nodded, “Sorry sir,” before she hurriedly left.
No one dared speak. Even his assistant tiptoed around, passing files like she was handling explosives.
His temper was razor-sharp. His patience was nonexistent. With his annoyance he had downed two cups of scotch, the third still on his table.
About two hours later, a call came in from Dan, “Hey big guy, may I come in?”
Alex barked, “And why will you call before knocking on the door, if you're already here?”
“Sorry, boss, but the reaction I saw right from the entrance tells me that you're not in a good mood. I don't want to add to it.” Dan expressed himself calmly.
“Gaddamn it, Dan, if you have the info I need, then get the fuck in and stop gossiping!” He snarled and cut the call.
“Damn it” He smacked his hand on his desk. “Can't a man express his frustration over a bad morning he had. Bunch of gossipers.”
In the next few seconds, a knock came at the door.
He stood with his back to the door, staring out the window, one hand subconsciously rubbing the pendant resting on his chest. His mind was still chasing shadows—specifically, the one who had vanished on that damn bike. He was expecting Dan, hoping for updates that could give him a lead.
But the moment the door creaked open, a familiar scent floated in—apple blossom body spray.
His brows furrowed. That wasn't Dan.
Before he could turn, arms suddenly wrapped around his waist, warm breath fanned his neck, and a cheek rested softly on his shoulder.
“My sweet pie, I’ve missed you so much…” came the low, longing voice.
Alex stiffened instantly, caught off guard. He jerked slightly, but recognizing the voice, he let out a tired breath and relaxed.
“Nathan,” he muttered sharply, still not facing him. “What the hell are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you not to come to my office unless I called you?”
Nathan tightened his grip, refusing to let go. “I missed you,” he whispered, desperate. “You said you forgave me. You said you’d call… but you never did. I waited, and waited. I called—so many times—but you didn’t pick up. That’s not fair, Alex. I can’t get you off my mind.”
Alex exhaled, jaw tight. His patience was paper-thin.
As he held Alex, desperate to rekindle something already burnt to ash, Alex could barely hide his irritation.
“I said if you need anything, call me. You don’t have to—” Alex started firmly, but Nathan quickly moved around, cutting him off.
Nathan's eyes locked with his hands sliding up Alex’s chest with that familiar touch he once adored. “Sweet pie,” he cooed, “I did call—several times. You just didn’t pick up. I felt so horrible. Are you still angry with me? Please don’t be.”
He leaned in, trailing soft kisses from Alex’s neck to his cheek, voice barely a whisper. “Please… look at me.”
But Alex remained unmoved, eyes distant, expression unreadable.
Because in his mind, he wasn’t in his office.
He was on that road again, chasing that mysterious rider—the one with the curly brown hair and the quiet storm in his eyes. That face haunted him now more than Nathan ever had. They had almost identical features… but there was something deeper, something raw and unexplainable about the mystery guy that Nathan could never replicate.
When Alex had first met Nathan six months ago, he was drawn to him because of that very resemblance. Back then, Nathan was struggling—couldn’t afford rent or his culinary school fees. Alex had stepped in, offering help, comfort, and a shoulder he didn't hesitate to lean on. He gave Nathan everything—an upgraded apartment, emotional security, and far more than money.
And Nathan had responded with affection… until two weeks ago, when his ex had called, right in front of Alex. Even though Nathan denied having anything with the ex.
The hesitation, the panicked look, the rushed excuses—it had broken something inside Alex.
Now, as Nathan stood here begging, Alex’s heart was somewhere else entirely. Somewhere it had never really left…his good luck charm, Lucas.
Then, to make matters worse, just a few days later after the call, Alex decided to visit Nathan’s apartment unannounced, something he rarely did.
The moment he opened the door, what he saw stopped him cold.
Nathan was on the couch, lips locked with the same ex who had called that day. Their hands tangled, their bodies too close. The kind of smooching that spoke of unfinished business.
Alex didn't say a word. His heart slammed against his ribs as he bolted out of the apartment like it was on fire.
Nathan scrambled after him, half-dressed and shouting, “Alex, wait! It’s not what it looks like! Please, let me explain!”