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Paige doesn’t.

She likes how ridiculously invested I am in shit.

She doesn’t just say, uh-huh, that’s great, honey, as Rhett does.

She listens to the playlists I send her, debates with me if she had one weapon that she could choose during an apocalypse what it’d be, and chats about the cartoons we both watched as kids.

She got it when I told her that I had to fix her education because she hadn’t seen The Hunger Games.

On the other hand, Luca simply stared at me blankly when I tried that with him.

Rhett calmly informed me not to waste his time, until I agreed to watch Gladiator with him.

“Well, that’ll be never, Grandpa,” I grumbled.

Rhett gave a sharp smile. “Then I don’t offer myself as tribute, brat.”

“Ah-ha! You do know what my movie is.”

“See, age makes you more educated, honey.”

Yet Paige’s response to my text about The Hunger Games…?

I feel a movie marathon coming on. You bring the snacks. Can you handle that pretty angel?

My smile widens. I struggle to hold back from kissing the back of Paige’s neck.

I keep the rhythm of the brush strokes slow and deliberate like I am counting her pulse.

I start halfway down my Omega’s hair, as I’ve seen Rhett do with Luca’s hair after a bad rut. I gently work on a tangle, before sweeping from the crown to the tips.

I keep an eye on the way that her collarbones rise and fall. I place my palm on the curve of her shoulder, applying warm pressure to encourage the muscles to unknot.

Paige tips back her head. “Feels good.”

“As good as the massage I gave you earlier?”

“I’m starting to reckon nothing can feel as good as your magic fingers, Halo.”

“You haven’t experienced Rhett’s yet,” Luca comments.

I turn my head to glare at him. “You would say that, Chief’s pet. How about some loyalty?”

“I am loyal. I’m also honest.” Luca’s white hair falls over his eyes, which glimmer in the low light.

Luca is wearing his favorite silk, gray pajamas that are soft on his skin.

He is focused on weaving a nest in the center of the bed with the fluffy blankets and pillows that I brought to the inn at the clinic’s direction from my own bed. Also, a jumble of our clothes: plaid shirts, khaki uniforms, leather jacket, soft hoodies, and woolen pajamas.

Our scents mingle in a way that makes me smile in satisfaction.

Do Alphas need nests as much as Omegas?

I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed having an Omega in my life, until I found Paige.

This is like pressing on a bruise, but I can’t stop myself.

“Do I have you all to myself now?” Paige asks.