Claimed by the Band (Fameverse #1)

Chapter 22 – JORDAN

22

JORDAN

I still can't believe I agreed to this arrangement.

The suite is admittedly incredible though, more like a luxury apartment than a hotel suite. And I've seen a whole damn lot of those. The view of the city from up here is breathtaking, all glittering lights and roads that look like swoops and lines in some giant abstract art installation.

I'm perched at the massive kitchen counter, laptop open as I sift through financial records I may or may not have illegally obtained from PheroMaster's servers. Allegedly. The coffee here is amazing, actual fresh ground beans instead of the instant stuff I usually subsist on.

The pack has been surprisingly respectful of my space these past couple of days. Even Asher, though I keep catching him watching me when he thinks I'm not looking. His eyes follow me with an intensity that makes my skin tingle. I have to keep reminding myself that it's not really me he's interested in, it's the mysterious beta hacker persona I've created. If he knew what I really was...

The door opens and I tense automatically as Knox walks in. He's massive even by alpha standards, all muscle and barely contained aggression. But he just nods in my direction.

"Hey," he grunts.

"Hey," I respond, turning back to my work. I hear him moving around the kitchen, the soft whir of the fancy coffee maker starting up.

"Want a refill?" he asks, surprising me.

I hesitate, glancing at my nearly empty mug. The rich aroma of fresh coffee is tempting. "Sure," I find myself saying. "Thanks."

He nods, grabbing my mug. I can feel him wanting to say something as he waits for the coffee to brew. The silence stretches between us, not exactly uncomfortable but definitely charged.

"What is it?" I finally ask, unable to stand the tension any longer.

Knox blinks, clearly surprised by my directness. Most people are probably intimidated by him, and it's easy to see why. He's got that whole scary alpha bodyguard vibe down pat. But I spent my entire childhood and teenage years resisting alphas who were a lot scarier than him. I refuse to back down now.

"You're not what I expected," he says finally, setting a fresh mug of coffee in front of me.

"And what did you expect?" I ask, wrapping my hands around the warm ceramic.

He shrugs those massive shoulders. "Someone more... I don't know. Arrogant maybe? Most people who can do what you do, they like to show off."

"Maybe I just don't have anything to prove," I say, taking a sip of coffee to hide my expression.

Knox studies me for a long moment, his woodsmoke scent thoughtful rather than aggressive. "Maybe," he agrees. "Or maybe you're just better at hiding it than most."

I meet his gaze steadily, refusing to look away first. "Does it matter?"

"To me? Not really," he says. "But to Asher..." He trails off, something complicated passing over his features.

My stomach does an uncomfortable flip. "Asher sees what he wants to see," I say carefully.

"Yeah," Knox agrees, his voice softening slightly. "He does that."

There's something knowing in his tone that makes me want to squirm. Like he can see right through my carefully constructed walls. But that's impossible. I've spent nine years perfecting this disguise.

I shift in my seat, the words coming out before I can stop them. "You don't like me very much, do you?"

Knox's eyebrows shoot up, genuine surprise crossing his rugged features. It's probably the most emotion I've seen from him since we met.

"It wasn't an attack," I add, shrugging. "Just an observation. For the record, I don't like you either."

To his credit, Knox actually smirks at that, some of the tension leaving his massive frame. "I'm an acquired taste," he says, taking a sip of his coffee. "But for the record, it's nothing personal. I just don't want to see Asher get hurt."

"Why would you think I'm in a position to hurt him?" I ask, genuinely puzzled. I'm just some hacker they hired to help them with a problem, their temporary ally in this investigation. Nothing more.

Knox gives me a look that's equal parts exasperation and pity. "Come on," he says. "It's obvious the way he looks at you. Or at least, it is to everyone else."

Heat creeps up my neck and I suddenly find my coffee extremely fascinating. "You don't need to worry about that," I mutter, hating how my voice wavers slightly. "Even if that was true, I have no interest in romancing a client or becoming a part of your pack."

"Yeah," Knox says, his voice oddly melancholic. "That's what I'm afraid of."

My head snaps up, but before I can respond, Asher sweeps into the kitchen like a golden whirlwind. His honey-sweet scent fills the space, making my head spin despite the suppressants.

"Good morning!" he chirps, far too cheerful for this hour. His eyes light up as he spots us. "Mmh, coffee. Smells delicious."

Knox hands him a steaming cup he already had ready without missing a beat, and I watch as Asher accepts it with a grateful smile. The casual intimacy of the gesture makes something in my chest ache.

"You two are up early," Asher observes, hopping up onto one of the barstools next to me. His thigh brushes against mine and I have to fight the urge to pull away. "Planning world domination without me?"

"Just coffee and conversation," Knox says, but there's a weight to his words that makes me nervous.

I focus on my laptop screen, pretending to be absorbed in the financial records I've been analyzing. But I can feel Asher's warmth beside me, can sense him studying my profile.

"Find anything interesting?" he asks, leaning closer to peer at my screen. His scent blossoms around me, and I have to remind myself to breathe normally.

"Not yet," I manage, proud of how steady my voice sounds. "But I'm just getting started."

Knox watches our interaction with knowing eyes, and I want to crawl under the counter and disappear. He's right about one thing—this is dangerous territory. Not for the reasons he thinks, but dangerous nonetheless.

Because the truth is, it would be so easy to let myself get pulled into their orbit. To bask in Asher's warmth and the pack's casual acceptance. To pretend, just for a little while, that I could be part of something like this.

But I can't. I won't. Years of running, of hiding, of carefully maintaining this facade… I'm not about to throw it all away now. Not even for violet eyes and devastating smiles.

Not even for the first real connection I've felt since I ran away from home at the age of sixteen.

"Well," I say, closing my laptop with perhaps more force than necessary, "I should probably get back to work. Gotta get somewhere with public Wi-Fi. Thanks for the coffee."

I grab my things, trying not to notice the way Asher's face falls or how Knox's expression softens with something that looks dangerously like understanding.

"Alex," Asher calls as I reach the door. "We're ordering breakfast soon. You should join us. I'm sure whatever it is could wait while you eat some actual food."

I hesitate, my hand on the doorknob. It would be so easy to say yes. To stay, to let myself be drawn into their world just a little bit more.

But Knox's words echo in my head. He's right to be worried about Asher getting hurt. Because no matter what happens, no matter how this ends, someone is going to get hurt.

And it can't be him. I won't let it be him.

"Maybe next time," I say softly, and slip out the door before I can change my mind.