Mylo scoffs and hits my arm. “Seriously?”
I raise a brow at him. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re lying.”
“Look it up.”
He pulls out his phone and does just that, quickly finding my TED talk from two years ago. Then his expression turns thoughtful as he puts his phone away. “So you were totally a bleeding-heart try-hard save-the-world-type, weren’t you?”
I nod. “Completely. I thought the entire reason I was born a female alpha was to gofix the world, to make it better for women. I campaigned on campus, called my representatives, ran the theatre department. And I made a difference there. So then I thought I could make a differenceeverywhere. Hollywood humbled me up real fast. I just couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong, where I was falling short. I joined a mentorship program for female alphas. Got matched withMorgan Hunter. She’s only like four years older than me, but she already had her whole life together. Anddamn, she’s a force. She gave me that same advice. Albeit… not so nicely phrased.”
Mylo chuckles, and the sound floods me with relief. “What did that sound like?”
“Something along the lines of… ‘Suck it up, bitch, and focus on what you can control.’”
“And you’re friends with her now?”
“For life.”
“Huh. And she got married last year?”
“Yep. Would’ve thought it was impossible. But they’re perfect together. They make each other happy.”
“That’s how it should be. People in a relationship like that should… make each other happy.”
I nod, and there’s a hollow pang in my chest. “I want to make you happy. But I don’t think I do.”
Mylo takes a breath, then hesitates. He picks at a seam on his jeans, staring past his shoes. “On the… plane ride over, I considered a… disturbing possibility.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I assumed my hormones were wrong. But… what if they’re not? Isn’t always acting opposite to your hormones another way of being controlled by your hormones?”
“I suppose it is.”
“But you chose to go against your hormones.”
“Did I?”
He rubs a hand over the base of his neck without looking at me. “You didn’t… y’know.”
“You think that was me going against my hormones?”
His brow furrows. “Wasn’t it?”
I give a soft chuckle.
He turns those honey-colored eyes to me. “What?”
“You know what my hormones want? More thananything?”
His eyes scan mine. “No.”
“They want you to behappy. The only time it was a struggle to not bite you is… when you wanted it.”
Something blooms through Mylo’s scent, subtle but refreshing. I can’t quite decode it.
“So does that mean…”
