Claimed by the Band (Fameverse #1)

Chapter 27 – JORDAN

27

JORDAN

I wake with a start, heart racing as I try to place my unfamiliar surroundings. The gentle swaying and rumble beneath me clicks first.

I'm on a bus. Not just any bus.

Wild Honey's tour bus.

The events of last night come crashing back. James. The concert. My breakdown in front of the entire pack. And...

Oh god.

I fell asleep on Asher.

Actually fell asleep cuddled up against him like some touch-starved omega. Which I am, but that's not the point. The bed beside me is empty now. He must have gone back to his alphas once I passed out.

The thought sends an unexpected pang through my chest, which I ruthlessly squash down. Of course he went back to his pack. Where else would he go? I'm just the weird beta they're temporarily stuck with.

Even if I did sleep better than I have in... well, possibly ever. No nightmares. No waking up in cold sweats. Just peaceful, dreamless sleep wrapped in honeyed comfort.

The door creaks open before I can spiral further, and there's Asher, somehow looking unfairly gorgeous despite the early hour. He's balancing a drink carrier and what looks like takeout bags, his violet eyes lighting up when he sees me.

"Oh good, you're up!" he chirps, cheerful as ever at the butt crack of dawn. "Dante brought croissants and coffee from the only chain that's remotely reliable across the country."

I can't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. "You sound very passionate about that."

"Oh, you have no idea how seriously we take breakfast," he says, waggling his eyebrows as he sets everything down. "It's practically a religious experience around here."

The laugh escapes before I can stop it. A real one, not the careful chuckles I usually allow myself. Asher's whole face lights up at the sound.

"It's good to hear that," he says softly, those violet eyes going gentle. "You had us all worried last night."

I look down at my hands, heat creeping up my neck. "Pretty sure only you were worried," I mutter. "The rest of your pack is probably wondering what kind of crazy person their omega brought home."

"Hey." His voice is firm enough to make me look up. "That's not true at all. They were all worried. Even Knox, though he'd probably rather eat his own guitar than admit it."

The memory of falling asleep in his arms hits me again, making my cheeks burn hotter. I shouldn't have let myself be so vulnerable. Shouldn't have let him get that close. But something about Asher makes all my carefully constructed walls crumble like wet paper.

"I'm sorry," I say, not quite meeting his eyes. "About last night. About falling asleep on you. You didn't have to stay."

"I wanted to," he says simply, and the sincerity in his voice makes my chest tight. "Besides, you're cute when you sleep. You make these little snuffling noises?—"

"Oh god," I groan, hiding my face in my hands. "Please stop talking."

His laugh is bright and warm, filling the small room like sunshine. "Never. Now come on, drink your coffee before it gets cold. And fair warning, if you don't eat at least one croissant, Dante will be personally offended as if he baked it from scratch."

I peek through my fingers to find him holding out a cup of coffee that smells absolutely divine. And it tastes even better. "Thanks."

"Stop thanking me for the bare minimum," Asher says, waving his hand dismissively. "Basic human decency isn't something you need to be grateful for."

"It's not the bare minimum," I argue, setting my cup down carefully. "I'm not... I'm not even part of your pack. You don't owe me anything."

His eyes soften again as he looks at me, and something in my chest tightens painfully. "I meant what I said last night," he says quietly. "You could be. Part of the pack, I mean. If you wanted to be."

A wave of longing hits me so hard it nearly takes my breath away. To belong somewhere. To have people who care about me, who want to protect me. To wake up every morning to coffee and croissants and Asher's bright smile.

But the guilt follows immediately after, crushing and cold. He wouldn't make that offer if he knew the truth. If he knew what I really am.

Would he?

The tiny spark of hope in my chest feels dangerous. Sure, Asher's known for being unconventional. He's openly attracted to both alphas and omegas, which is rare enough. And his pack seems surprisingly accepting of whatever he wants.

But this would be different. This would be betrayal. Deception on a level that goes beyond just hiding my secondary gender. I've been living as someone else entirely for so long, I'm not even sure who I am anymore.

And the thought of seeing that warmth in his eyes turn to disgust, to betrayal... it would break something in me that I'm not sure could ever be fixed.

"I..." My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. "I can't."

"Can't? Or won't?" Asher asks gently, and there's something in his tone that makes me wonder if he sees more than I want him to. "Either is okay. It would just be good to know."

"Both," I whisper, staring into my coffee cup like it holds all the answers I can't give him. "It's complicated."

"It doesn't have to be," he says, reaching across the small space between us to take my hand. His touch sends sparks through my entire body, and I have to fight the urge to pull away. Not because I don't want it—God, I want it so much it terrifies me—but because I'm afraid of what he might feel. What he might sense.

"You don't understand," I say, hating how weak my voice sounds. "There are things about me... things I can't tell you. Things that would change everything."

He squeezes my hand, and the gentle pressure nearly undoes me. "Try me."

I look up at him then, meeting those impossibly beautiful eyes. There's so much warmth there, so much acceptance. Part of me wants to tell him everything. To lay all my secrets bare and let whatever happens, happen.

I realize I've been leaning in without meaning to, drawn to Asher like a moth to flame. When his lips brush mine, soft and tentative, I melt into the touch. Every rational thought flees my mind as I find myself kissing him back, even though I know I should pull away.

But I don't want to. For the first time in nine years, I let myself want something just because I want it.

The kiss deepens, and some distant part of my brain reminds me to keep hold of my coffee cup so we don't end up with scalding liquid everywhere. Asher's free hand comes up to cup my cheek, and the tenderness in the gesture makes my chest ache.

A startled sound from the doorway breaks through our bubble. My eyes fly open to find Dante standing there, one hand dramatically clapped over his eyes.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" he yelps, holding up a paper bag like a peace offering. "I just wanted to check if you guys wanted more croissants before Silas and Damon demolish them all."

Heat floods my face as I pull back from Asher, who lets out a half-hearted groan. "Your timing is impeccable as always, D."

"I know, I know, I'm the worst," Dante says, still covering his eyes. "But in my defense, the door was open."

I want to crawl under the bed and disappear. What was I thinking? Kissing Asher like that, where anyone could walk in? Where his packmates could see? But when I try to pull further away, Asher keeps hold of my hand.

"You can uncover your eyes," he says, amusement coloring his tone. "We're decent."

"Are you sure?" Dante peeks through his fingers before lowering his hand. "Because that looked pretty indecent to me."

"Oh my god," I mutter, hiding my face in my free hand. This is mortifying. Not just because we got caught, but because part of me wants to go right back to kissing Asher like nothing else matters.

"Don't mind him," Asher tells me, squeezing my hand. "He's just jealous he didn't get to watch."

"Asher!" I squeak, scandalized. But when I look up, both he and Dante are grinning.

"He's not wrong," Dante says with a wink. "But seriously, croissants? They're still warm and extra buttery."

I'm struck by how normal this feels. Like Asher getting caught kissing their omega is just another Tuesday morning for them. No possessive alpha rage, no territorial posturing. Just gentle teasing and offers of breakfast pastries.

Although, they don't know I'm another omega. And sure, Asher's dating history makes me doubt they'd care about that part, but still. I'm sure they'd care I've been lying to him. To all of them.

"We're good here," Asher says, glancing at our mostly untouched food. "But thanks for checking."

"No problem!" Dante starts backing out of the room. "I'll just... leave you two to it. And uh, I'll close the door."

He pulls the door shut behind him with an exaggerated wink, and I groan, letting my head thunk against Asher's shoulder without thinking.

"Well," Asher says, his voice warm with amusement, "that's one way to start the morning."

I should move. Should put some distance between us, try to rebuild the walls that kiss just demolished. But Asher's shoulder is warm and solid against my forehead.

"You can relax, you know. We didn't do anything wrong," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

"You don't understand," I whisper, even as I lean into his touch. "This is... I can't..."

"Can't? Or won't?" he asks again, echoing his earlier question. "Because that kiss felt pretty mutual to me."

I lift my head to look at him, and the warmth in his gaze nearly undoes me. "It was. But it's not that simple."

"Maybe it could be," he says softly. "If you let it."

For one wild moment, I let myself imagine it. Letting down all my walls, telling him everything. But the thought of losing this, losing him , losing all of them when the truth comes out... Even though I don't really have them to begin with. It's too much.

"Your coffee's getting cold," I say instead of answering, pulling back just enough to create some space between us.

Asher lets me retreat, but I can feel his eyes on me as I take a sip of my own rapidly cooling coffee. The ghost of his kiss still lingers on my lips, a reminder of everything I want but can't have.

At least, not without risking everything.