Milo clutches his chest, eyes going wide. "Oh my god. That's the most romantic thing you've ever said."
"Shut up."
"No, I'm serious. Write that down. Put it on a Hallmark card. 'I've been thinking about your smile for three months.' People would buy that."
"I will literally smother you with this pillow." I grab the nearest one for emphasis, though I'm only partially joking.
"Worth it." His grin widens. "Okay, but for real. What do you want? Like, if tonight goes perfectly, what happens?"
I look at my hands, at the highlighter stain on my fingers from the dried-out marker. This is the part I haven't let myself think about too clearly. Wanting her is one thing. Admitting what I actually want from her is something else entirely.
"I want to match her," I say quietly. "She's an Alpha. Everyone expects her to be in control all the time. Everyone expects me to defer because I'm a Beta, to fall in line, and to let her lead." I pause, searching for the right words. "But I don't want to defer. I want to push. And be pushed back. I want it to be equal."
Milo's grin turns knowing. "You want her on her knees."
My ears go hot, heat spreading down my neck. "I didn't say that."
"You were thinking it. Your scent just spiked so hard, it smells like those natural air fresheners in here."
Goddammit. So much for control.
"This conversation is over."
"It's really not." He shifts on the bed, wrinkling my sheets further. "See, I want the opposite. I want to submit. I've never felt that with anyone, never wanted to give up control like that, but with her? I want to give in. I want her to take care of me. Tell me I'm good."
"That's a lot of information." We might be twins and we might both want the same woman but I’m now realizing we missed a crucial step. We’ve never actuallysharedthe same woman. At the same time. We’ve dated the same Omega or Beta but we werenever with them... together. And that dynamic suddenly feels a little morerealthan it did five seconds ago.
"I'm an open book, Q. You know this." He shrugs. "Point is, we want different things. Opposite things, really. But we both want her."
"How does that even work?" I should have never agreed to this.
"No idea." He leans back on his hands, my perfectly made bed now a complete disaster. For a moment he's quiet, which is unusual enough that I actually look at him. He's chewing on his bottom lip, thinking something through. "You know she has a nest, right?" he says finally.
I blink. "What?"
"A nest. I overheard her talking to one of the trainers a few weeks ago. She was saying something about how she couldn't find the right blankets for it, how nothing felt right yet." Milo's voice goes soft, like he's piecing something together as he speaks. "An Alpha who nests, Q. That's not exactly common."
It's not. Nesting is typically an Omega trait, a biological drive to create safe spaces and comfort zones. Alphas are supposed to be the protectors of nests, not the builders of them. The fact that Iris has one means she doesn't fit neatly into the box everyone expects her to occupy.
"She's already breaking the rules just by existing the way she does," Milo continues. "And the way you were talking just now, about wanting to push and be pushed back, about wanting it to be equal..." He trails off, looking at me with an expression I can't quite read. "Maybe that's exactly what she needs. Someone who isn't going to just roll over for her because she's an Alpha. Someone who's going to challenge her."
I hadn't thought about it like that. I'd been so focused on how strange my own desires felt, how they didn't match what a Beta was supposed to want, that I hadn't considered that maybe Iriswas dealing with the same thing from the opposite direction. Maybe she was tired of people deferring to her. Maybe she wanted someone who would meet her halfway.
"Maybe she's got room for more rule-breaking," Milo says quietly. "Maybe she needs people who don't fit the mold either."
That’s a lot to think through for a little auction we get to spend one night with Iris. Even if we do win, her father is going to be breathing down our necks, ensuring we follow any and all rules and etiquette with his precious daughter. I’m not even sure if we’ll get anything out of this...
Milo adjusts his blazer one final time and throws me a look before his gaze drops to the small hole in the newest hoodie I put on. I slide off my bed and start searching for something that has no stains, holes, or anything else. There’s the button down and the polo but those are… stuffy. I settle for another hoodie, much to Milo’s dismay.
"Nervous?" Milo asks as I shove my head into the fabric..
"No."
"Liar. Your scent's doing the crisis thing again." He snorts as I just grab my shoes by the door. "It's okay," he says, his voice softer now. "I'm nervous too." He clears his throat, his grin tightening a little. "Ready?" Milo asks as we reach the entrance.
"No."
"Perfect. Let's go."
