Page 139 of Pack Me Up

She hides behind her hand, but I can see her eyes shining. The fans start chanting her name, and I swear I can feel the vibration in my bones. I do a dumb little wave, grinning like an idiot, and she peeks over her arms to do the same.

After a second, she leans in and kisses my cheek. “Thanks,” she says, barely audible. “For making this… not weird.”

I shrug. “I’ll always make it weird, but never in a bad way.”

She laughs, then settles against me, her head on my shoulder.

The crowd’s still going, but the camera leaves, and in the box, it’s just us. No pressure, no expectations. Just the two of us, hiding in plain sight.

And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

We watch the next three innings like that, her hand in mine, a mountain of empty plates on the table.

The game’s in the fifth, and nobody gives a shit about the score anymore. Not in this box, at least. The stadium’s a long, distant noise, a reminder that the world still exists, but just barely. Inside, it’s Brittney and me, and the slow, low burn of everything we haven’t said out loud.

We drift from the main seats, wandering to the little alcove at the back of the suite. There’s a velvet sofa and a low glass table, half-buried in a pile of logo throw blankets. Here, the soundproofing is thick enough that the crowd’s roar comes soft, like a storm a hundred miles away. The lighting is softer, too. It’s just the flicker from the TV, muted and meaningless.

Brittney perches on the edge of the sofa, turning a water bottle in her hands. I pace for a minute, restless, then flop down next to her, letting the silence stretch until it snaps.

She’s quiet, thinking, then: “Is it weird, having to share? Not just… me, but everything, your whole life.”

I stare at the wall, trying to find the right words. “People always see Cody and me as a package deal. Even our parents did. It’s like, if I do something, it’s expected. If Cody does it, he gets a parade.” I laugh, but there’s no bite in it. “He doesn’t mean to, but he’s always been the one everyone watches.”

Brittney twists sideways, knees tucked up, looking at me full-on. “Is that why you’re always so quiet?”

I smirk. “What, you want me to be loud now?”

She shakes her head, smiling. “No. I just mean… I notice you. Even when you’re not trying.”

That lands in my chest, hard. I look at her, really look, and she doesn’t flinch. “You mean that?”

“I always know which one you are,” she says, voice so soft I almost miss it. “Even if you swapped clothes, I’d know. I love you, Colton. Not because you’re a twin, but because you’re you.”

It’s the first time she’s said it like that, and it knocks the air out of me. I reach for her, pull her in, and kiss her so deep it hurts. “I love you, too.”

She climbs into my lap, knees on either side, and I hold her hips, anchoring her to me. Her hands are in my hair, tugging, her lips everywhere, my cheek, jaw, neck, and collarbone. I slidemy hands under her jersey, find the bare skin of her waist, and drag my fingers up until she shivers.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” I whisper, and she laughs, breathless.

I pull her tight against me, letting her feel how hard I am already. She rocks her hips, grinding slowly, and I almost lose it right there. I bury my face in her neck, licking and biting until she gasps.

She pushes me back, just enough to look me in the eye. “I want you. Here and now,” she says.

I grab her by the waist and flip her, so she’s on her back, sprawled across the sofa. I kneel between her legs, push her skirt up to her hips, and hook a finger in her underwear, pulling it aside.

She’s already wet, slick, and shiny in the dim light. I drag my thumb over her clit, slow at first, then harder, watching the way her face changes. She moans, hips twitching, and I keep my eyes locked on her as I lean in.

“I want you to come for me like the desperate omega you are,” I say, voice low. “Right now. Can you do that?”

She nods, frantic.

I bend down and lick her, flat and broad, tasting her sweetness and the salt of her skin. She arches, thighs trembling, hands digging into the cushions. I eat her like it’s the last meal I’ll ever get, tongue circling her clit, fingers sliding inside and curling just right.

She’s loud, but I don’t care if anyone hears. In fact, I hope they do.

“Good girl,” I murmur, mouth full. “Such a perfect slut for me. You love it, don’t you?”

She whimpers, barely able to speak. “Yes, fuck, yes! Colton, please!”