Page 16 of Chasing The Alpha's Son
“Max.”
His voice hits me like an arrow. My spine straightens, my neck elongates, my fingers tense. Hell! Every muscle in my body tenses. Blood begins to thud through every limb, every artery, every—okay, let’s just say the blood is pumping to all the places blood pumps.
“Jasper?”
I turn around and he’s just a few feet away. He’s closer than he’s been in months. And yet he still isn’t close enough. His scent hits me and I’m suddenly thirsty for a cherry soda.
I take a step and he backs up like I’m contagious.
“Not here,” he says, then turns on his heel and marches away.
Without missing a beat, I follow.
THE ALPHA’S CHALLENGE
This can’t be Jasper’s first time at the Plaza. From the way he navigates the confusing labyrinth of halls, pushing through doors like he knows exactly where he’s going, like he owns the place, it’s obvious he’s a regular.
I follow like a cartoon dog who’s caught the delicious whiff of a freshly baked pie. I don’t even question why we’re headed away from the party, away from prying eyes, from the world he doesn’t want to be seen by, not with me.
We eventually reach a door with a sign readingPrivate, and Jasper, without a moment of hesitation, pushes through. I step into a small dim hallway. It’s not fancy like the rest of the place. There’s no cream wallpaper and lush carpet. The walls are gray concrete, the floor a checkered linoleum. The stark fluorescent lighting makes me squint.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to be back here,” I say, but Jasper isn’t facing me; he’s bowing his head, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
“You’re not supposed to be here at all,” he says.
My jaw tenses and my teeth grind audibly. After months of radio silence, after everything we went through in the summer, after seeing me here dressed up like a freaking Christmas tree, he’s still pushing me away. Any hopeful anticipation I may have been holding onto drops away. All that nervous excitement seeps out of me, leaving me heavy and flat.
“Is that all you can say?” I ask. “Is that all you can ever say?”
He turns and closes the distance between us in a flash, anger flaring his nostrils and creasing his brow.
“I’m trying to protect you,” he says through gritted teeth. “It isn’t safe here. Not here and not with me.”
“Is that why you brought me back here?” I ask. “So no one would see us together.”
He sighs and runs a frustrated hand through his shiny hair. His face is redder than I’m used to seeing it; tiny beads of sweat are gathered on his forehead.
“It’s better this way.”
“For who? You or me, Jasper?”
His piercing eyes bore into mine. “For us both.”
“This is bullshit!” I explode. “Why don’t I get a say in this?”
“Because this isn’t a committee.”
“So you’re just gonna ignore me forever, act like you don’t see the texts and the calls?”
“Yes,” he says, “and the mugs.”
Oh god.
“Okay the mugs were a step too far. But my point is still valid.”
“No, Max.” Jasper takes another step forward and I breathe him in. Jasper keeps tensing his abnormally square jaw. “It can’t happen.”
Frustration courses through me. We’re going in circles on this demented merry-go-round and I’m not even sure I bought a ticket.
