The Bully Alpha's Fake Alpha Mate (BL)-Chapter 23: SHOWER SCENE

ASHER

I stood under the scalding spray of the shower, letting the water beat against my bruised skin.

It had been a week since the Alphas attacked me. A week since Reed had saved me and then stood in the infirmary looking at me like I was both his greatest desire and his worst enemy. A week of his eyes following me everywhere I went.

The bruises had faded to ugly yellow-green patches across my ribs and back. Ms. Chen had done an excellent job with the healing salves, but I was still sore, still recovering, and still furious.

Reed’s words echoed in my head:

"Because you’re mine to torment, and I don’t share."

The possessiveness in his voice. The cold cruelty masking something darker, something that had made my stomach clench with an emotion I didn’t want to name.

I scrubbed at my skin harder, trying to wash away the memory of his hands on me when he’d carried me through the rooftop, the way he’d looked at me in the infirmary like he was analyzing every injury, every bruise, the way he pinned me to the bed and his thumb on my jaw like he cared, but that was impossible. Reed Jackson didn’t care about anyone but himself.

The communal showers were mercifully empty at this hour. Most students were at dinner, but I’d skipped it. My appetite had been non-existent since the attack, and the thought of sitting in that cafeteria, feeling Reed’s eyes on me from across the room...

I couldn’t do it.

The water ran over my face, plastering my platinum blonde hair to my skull. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through the constant anxiety that had become my new normal.

My drugs were wearing off faster. I could feel it.

The suppressants that kept my Omega nature hidden were supposed to last weeks between doses but the stress, the injuries, Reed’s constant presence, it was all accelerating the breakdown.

I’d had to take another injection just three days ago. My supply was dwindling faster than I could afford, and there was no way to get more without raising suspicion.

Mom couldn’t help anymore, she was barely surviving herself, moving from town to town, always one step ahead of whoever might be looking for us.I was on my own now.

The shower door suddenly slammed open, and I quickly spun around, heart racing, expecting an attack but Reed Jackson stood in the doorway, steam billowing around him like smoke.

He was shirtless, wearing only low-slung sweatpants that clung to his narrow hips. Water droplets from the rain outside dotted his chest and shoulders. His dark hair was wet, plastered to his forehead, making his gray eyes look even more intense.

Those eyes locked onto mine with an expression that made my breath catch.

Hunger, pure, and undisguised hunger.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, grabbing a towel and holding it in front of myself ineffectively. The shower was still running, water cascading down my back.

"I could ask you the same thing?" Reed’s voice was low, and dangerous. He stepped into the shower area, letting the door swing shut behind him. "Skipping dinner, and hiding in here like a coward."

"I’m not hiding." I answered and he scoffed.

"No?" He took another step closer. "Then what do you call avoiding me for a week?"

"Self-preservation."

Reed’s jaw clenched. "You think I’m going to hurt you again?"

"You hired rogues to attack me, and although you keep denying the Alphas attacking me part, and I am not hundred percent believing you for it. " I said flatly. "So yes, I think you’re capable of hurting me."

Something flickered across his face, guilt, maybe, or anger at being called out.

"I didn’t tell them to beat you that badly, and I didn’t send those bastards to hurt you," he said.

"Oh, well, that makes it so much better." I turned my back on him, dropping the towel and stepping back under the spray to rinse the soap from my hair. "Get out, Reed. I’m not in the mood for whatever psychological torture you’ve got planned today."

I heard his sharp intake of breath.

Then the sound of wet fabric hitting the floor. My eyes flew open.

Reed had stripped off his sweatpants.

He was completely naked, standing just outside the shower spray, water from his hair dripping down his sculpted chest and abs, and he was hard. Fully, unmistakably hard.

"What the fuck—" I started.

Reed stepped into the shower with me.

The space was suddenly impossibly small. Water poured over both of us, steam rising around our bodies. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, I could smell his scent, pine and smoke and something uniquely Reed that made my head spin.

"You’ve been avoiding me," Reed said again, his voice rough. "I don’t like being avoided."

"Too bad." I tried to step around him, but he moved with me, blocking my exit. "Reed, get out of my way."

"No."

"I’m not playing your games right now—"

"This isn’t a game." His hand shot out, slamming against the tile beside my head. I was suddenly caged between his arms, his body inches from mine. "You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t see the way you look at me?"

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst from my chest. "I look at you with hatred. That’s all."

"Liar."

He leaned in closer, and I could feel every inch of him. The hard planes of his chest. The rigid length of his cock pressing against my hip. God, he was huge.

"You want me," Reed whispered, his lips brushing my ear. "I can smell it on you. That sweet scent that gets stronger every time I’m near you."

Panic flooded through me. He could smell it. He could smell the breakdown of my suppressants, the Omega nature starting to leak through.

"You’re insane," I said, trying to inject confidence into my voice. "I don’t want you. I hate you."

"Then why are you hard?"

I looked down.

Fuck.

I was.

Despite my fear, despite my hatred, despite everything, my body was responding to Reed’s proximity. To his scent, and to the raw dominance rolling off him in waves.

"That’s just—it doesn’t mean—" I couldn’t form coherent words.

Reed’s hand moved from the wall to my throat. Not squeezing, just holding. Just reminding me that he could.

"I’ve been going crazy," he said, his voice low and rough. "Thinking about you, watching you, wanting to touch you and hurt you and fuck you all at the same time."

"Reed—"

"You’re under my skin, Asher Graham, and I hate it. I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you, I hate that I saved you twice, and I hate that I want you so fucking badly it’s driving me insane." His other hand pressed against my chest, fingers splaying over my heart. He could feel it racing.

"I hate you too," I managed.

"Good." His thumb brushed over my pulse point. "That makes this easier."

"Makes what easier?"

Instead of answering, Reed leaned in.

His lips hovered over mine, so close I could feel his breath.

The water poured over us both. Steam filled my lungs. My entire body was tense, trembling, caught between the urge to run and the insane desire to close that final inch of distance.

"Tell me to stop," Reed whispered against my mouth.

I should, I should tell him to stop, I should shove him away, I should run as far and fast as I could, but I couldn’t because despite everything, despite the hatred and the fear and the knowledge that Reed Jackson was dangerous, I wanted this. I wanted him.

"Fuck you," I breathed.

Reed smiled, dark and dangerous. "Is that a yes?"

Before I could answer, the shower door burst open.

"Yo, Jackson, you in here? We need to talk about tomorrow’s—oh fuck."

Marcus stood in the doorway, eyes wide, and taking in the scene. Reed and me naked, pressed together under the shower spray. Obviously about to kiss.

For a frozen moment, nobody moved.

Then Reed snarled, "Get the fuck out, Marcus."

"I—yeah, I’m just gonna—" Marcus backed out quickly, the door slamming shut behind him.

The moment shattered. I shoved Reed away, hard enough that he stumbled back against the opposite wall.

"This was a mistake," I said, my voice shaking. "This—us—whatever the hell that was—it can’t happen."

Reed’s eyes were blazing. His chest heaved with rapid breaths. He looked furious and frustrated and still so fucking hard it was almost obscene.

"Asher—"

"No." I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around my waist. "Stay away from me, Reed. I mean it."

I pushed past him and ran out of the showers, down the hallway, back to my room where I could lock the door and try to remember how to breathe.

My hands were shaking as I dried off and pulled on clothes. What the hell had I been thinking?

I’d almost let Reed Jackson kiss me. I almost let him touch me, I almost gave in to this insane attraction that made no sense and could only end in disaster.

My phone buzzed.

A text from an unknown number: We’re not done, Asher. Not even close.

Reed.

I threw my phone across the room and collapsed onto my bed. This was getting out of control.

Reed’s obsession with me. My body’s response to him. The way my suppressants were failing faster and faster. Something had to give, and I was terrified of what would happen when it finally did.