My Alpha Bully My Lover

2

The following days felt like a never-ending tug-of-war. Every time I thought I had a grip on the situation, Asher Knight would slip through my fingers again, like sand in an hourglass. It had been a week since the incident in the courtyard, and it seemed like his presence was becoming impossible to escape. His gaze always seemed to find me, even in the crowded hallways or at the back of the cafeteria. His shadow was always lurking just around the corner, his cruel smirk never far from my thoughts.

It started to drive me insane.

It wasn’t just his looks, though they certainly didn’t help. Asher was everything girls wanted and boys aspired to be. He had the perfect, chiseled jawline, the sculpted muscles that flexed just under his shirt, and eyes that were like an iron trap, dark and unyielding. It was no wonder every girl in school practically worshipped him—hell, even the teachers gave him a little more leniency than anyone else. But for me? For me, he was a nightmare. A walking, breathing obstacle I couldn’t seem to get around.

The moment I stepped into the hall on that Monday morning, I felt it—the familiar prickling sensation on the back of my neck. I wasn’t the only one who noticed him, of course. Asher and his friends seemed to take up all the space in the room, their voices cutting through the chatter like blades. The way they swaggered through the halls, heads held high, no one dared to challenge them.

No one except me.

“Hey, cupcake,” Asher’s voice sliced through the noise, a familiar tone that made my stomach tighten.

I didn’t even have to look to know he was there. I could hear his footsteps—calm, measured—right behind me. I bit back a groan. Not today.

I kept walking, pretending I didn’t hear him. But that only made him press harder. His steps quickened, and before I could even react, his shoulder slammed into mine, pushing me off balance. I caught myself just in time, but my books slipped from my hands once again, falling to the floor with a loud thud.

Laughter followed.

“Oops,” he drawled, bending down to retrieve my books, but his fingers brushed against mine in that infuriatingly casual way that only made things worse. “Didn’t mean to knock you down, cupcake.”

I glared up at him, trying to ignore the rush of heat that flooded my face. His grin was infuriatingly smug, the kind of grin that said he knew exactly what he was doing. It wasn’t an accident. He did it on purpose, and I knew it.

I yanked the books out of his hand and stood, my spine straightening as I looked him in the eye. “I don’t need your help, Asher. Maybe if you didn’t enjoy making other people miserable, you wouldn’t have to pretend you’re ‘helping’ me.”

The smirk on his face didn’t fade. In fact, it grew wider, more mocking. “And what if I enjoy making you miserable, cupcake?” He asked, taking a step closer. His body was so close I could feel the heat radiating off him.

I stiffened, my heart thumping in my chest. “You don’t know anything about me.” I said, my voice a little shakier than I intended.

“I know more than you think.” Asher replied, leaning in just enough that I could feel his breath on my skin. I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the wave of heat spreading through me at the closeness.

His eyes locked with mine, the silver-gray depths impossible to escape. For a moment, there was no teasing, no cruel jokes—just a strange intensity, like a flicker of something real passing between us. It was only for a heartbeat, but I felt it. I saw it. Something behind his eyes that wasn’t the usual arrogance. Something darker.

Before I could decipher it, he broke the connection, straightening up with a casual shrug.

“Later, cupcake.” He said, turning on his heel and walking away with his usual confident swagger.

I stood frozen in place, trying to process everything that just happened. My fingers clenched around my books, and my pulse raced as I watched him disappear down the hall.

What was that?

I shook my head, trying to banish the thoughts from my mind. I couldn’t let him get to me. I couldn’t.

But somehow, he always did.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Every time I passed Asher, my heart seemed to beat faster, my thoughts scattered. It was like he was always lurking in the corner of my mind, that smirk, that gaze, that goddamn energy he exuded. It was suffocating and intoxicating all at once.

At lunch, I found my usual spot in the far corner of the cafeteria. I preferred being alone, not because I didn’t have friends, but because it was easier to focus when I wasn’t distracted by the noise. I was digging into my lunch when I felt it—his presence.

Asher.

I glanced up, and sure enough, there he was, standing a few tables away, his gray eyes already fixed on me. I quickly looked away, pretending I hadn’t noticed him, but the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I felt his gaze pierce me like a laser.

I didn’t know why he was staring, but it was starting to make me uncomfortable. And yet, there was a part of me, a dangerous part, that secretly liked it.

“You’re avoiding me again.”

His voice was low, but I could still hear it clearly over the background noise. I didn’t respond, keeping my eyes focused on my lunch. I refused to look up at him. I refused to give him the satisfaction.

“Are you going to keep pretending you don’t want to talk to me, Ava?” Asher’s voice was closer now, and I could feel the heat of his body near mine, despite the fact that there was a table between us. His scent—warm and intoxicating—surrounded me.

“Don’t talk to me like that!” I snapped, my voice harsher than I intended.

“Like what?” He asked, his tone smooth and teasing. “Like I’m the only guy in this school who doesn’t kiss your ass?”

I shot him a glare, finally meeting his eyes. “I don’t need anyone kissing my ass, Asher. Least of all you.”

His lips curved upward into a smirk. “We’ll see about that.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving me alone with the sound of my heart hammering in my chest.

I hated the way he made me feel. It was like I was playing some twisted game, and no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, he was always one step ahead. Always in my head, always lingering at the edge of my thoughts.

And worst of all, a small, traitorous part of me didn’t mind it. Not one bit.