Page 18 of Claimed By the Band

Asher looks up, one perfect eyebrow arched. Those violet eyes dance with amusement. "Oh? And here I thought you were a big, tough alpha who didn't need coddling."

I open my mouth to retort, but he cuts me off with a wicked grin. "Tell you what, handsome. You be a good boy for the nice nurse, and I'll give you a blowjob in the car on the way home. How's that for comfort?"

Heat floods my face, and not just from embarrassment.Fuck. Even after all this time, he still knows exactly which buttons to push.

The nurse makes a strangled sound, face flaming as he hastily finishes removing the last stitch. I almost feel bad for the him. It can't be easy, having your crush show up in your exam room and start talking about giving a guy car head.

But mostly, I'm just annoyed. Not at Asher—never at Asher. But at this whole fucking situation. At the fact that we can't go anywhere without causing a scene. At the knowledge that our fame has painted a target on our backs. At my own inability to do a damn thing about it.

"All done," the nurse squeaks, practically fleeing the room.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Think we traumatized him?"

Asher shrugs, unrepentant. "Probably. But hey, at least he's got a good story for his group chat now."

I snort, but there's no real humor in it. "Yeah. 'You'll never believe who came in today—that omega singer and his asshole alpha bassist-slash-bodyguard. The one who couldn't even protect him when it mattered.'"

The words are out before I can stop them, bitter and raw. Asher's eyes widen, and in an instant he's there, straddling my lap on the exam table.

"Hey," he says softly, cupping my face in his hands. "None of that. You hear me? What happened wasn't your fault."

I try to look away, but he won't let me.

His eyes bore into mine, fierce and relentless. "Knox. Listen to me. You and the others saved my life that night. If you hadn't been there..."

He trails off, and I see a flicker of fear in his eyes. It's gone in an instant, replaced by that trademark Asher Wilde sparkle. "Besides," he purrs, leaning in close. "I happen to think your new scar is pretty hot. My big, strong alpha, all marked up from defending my honor."

His lips brush against mine, teasing, playful. Despite everything, I feel myself responding. My hands settle on his hips, pulling him closer.

"That so?" I growl, nipping at his lower lip. "Guess I'll have to get into more fights, then. Keep you interested."

Asher laughs, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Oh, trust me, alpha. You don't need to do anything to keep me interested."

He grinds down against me, and I have to bite back a groan. Fuck. We really shouldn't be doing this here. But when have I ever been able to say no to Asher?

Just as things are starting to heat up, there's a sharp knock at the door. We spring apart like guilty teenagers, Asher hastily straightening his clothes as the doctor walks in.

To her credit, she barely bats an eye at finding a world-famous omega perched in her patient's lap. Must not be the strangest thing she's walked in on.

"Mr. Hartley," she says, all professional calm. "How are you feeling?"

I clear my throat, willing my body to calm the fuck down. "Fine. Ready to get back to work."

She nods, flipping through my chart. "Well, everything looks good. The incision is healing nicely, and there's no sign of infection. I think we can clear you for touring, as long as you promise to take it easy for the first week or so."

Asher beams, throwing his arms around my neck. "Did you hear that, baby? You're all better!"

I can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. It's infectious, like everything about him. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get too excited. I'm still gonna milk this for all it's worth. Breakfast in bed, foot rubs, the works."

The doctor chuckles, clearly charmed despite herself. It's the Asher effect. No one's immune.

"Just remember," she says, a hint of sternness creeping into her voice. "No strenuous activity for at least another week. That means no moshing, no stage diving, and definitely no fist fights."

I salute, only half-joking. "Yes ma'am. I'll be on my best behavior."

Asher snorts. "Don't worry, doc. I'll keep him in line."

We wrap up the appointment, Asher peppering the doctor with questions about aftercare and warning signs to watch out for. It's sweet, really. For all his bravado and carefree demeanor, I know he worries.

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