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Austin nudges me. I glance at him, and he tips his head toward my plate. Oh, right. I’m supposed to be eating, not acting like an idiot who can’t remember things around alphas. I tuck into the meal, tasting the rutabaga first, then the vegetable dish, and finally the steak. I fight a moan.
I knew Austin could cook—I’ve tasted his food plenty of times—but this? This is ambrosia. I didn’t know steak could be so soft and tender and, “Oh my god,” I whisper.
“Mmm. I take that to mean you like it?” Austin asks, smirking at me.
My face heats. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
Austin glances at Brady and Dylan, who are in a heated discussion over Dylan’s schooling. “Good food makes people do crazy things.”
Funny. Daria says the same thing about dick. I battle a smile and take another bite right as Dylan growls.
“Ease up, Brady.”
“I’ll ease up when you finish school and pass the bar.”
I push my green beans around and frown at my plate, pressing my lips together as I listen to them argue. They’re both so bullheaded, they can’t even see that Austin is just as unsettled as I am. We share a look, and he sighs and shakes his head, as though this happens all the time.
They’re going to rip each other apart if they don’t stop and take a breath.
“So, are you guys looking for an omega?”
Dylan whips his head in my direction. “What?”
Brady glowers at me. “Why would you ask that?”
“Are you done fighting now? Can we enjoy dinner?” I gesture to Austin, who still hasn’t said anything. “He worked his ass off to make this food, and you’re both being dicks about it.”
“Quinn saiddicks,” Dylan whispers.
Austin rolls his lips in to keep from bursting out laughing.
“Don’t saydicks,” Brady tells me, like he has any right to keep words out of my mouth.
“Do dicks make you uncomfortable, Brady? You do have a dick, don’t you? I thought, with your personality, yours would be huge.”
Austin and Dylan lose it, both of them laughing loud enough to make Brady’s mouth twitch into a figment of a smile.
“I think she’s trying to insult you.” Dylan sucks in a breath. “But she just implied your dick is huge.”
Fuck. I had. “I meant he was a huge dick,” I correct myself. “Not that he has a big dick.”
“Why are you thinking about his dick, pretty girl?” Austin teases as he pops a piece of steak into his mouth.
“I’m not thinking about Brady’s—” I press my lips together and refuse to say it again.
The younger brothers laugh at my expense, and Brady arches an eyebrow in my direction. “You should’ve listened to me.”
I ignore him and look pointedly at his plate. “Eat your food, Brady.”
He narrows his eyes but cuts another piece of steak and slowly puts it in his mouth, chewing with more aggression than is appropriate for the delicate cut of meat. “Happy?” he asks when he swallows.
I simply nod and start eating again. The tension is sufficiently broken, and the rest of dinner is uneventful, aside from the brothers relentlessly teasing me about cocks. The more they mention dicks, the more I can’t help thinking about theirs. Brady’s knowing gaze is on me, the only one who realizes what the conversation might be doing to my head. Once I’m done eating, I make an excuse and flee to my room.
Tucked safely in the nest I built in my oversized walk-in closet and surrounded by air purifiers that’ll steal any traces of my scent away, I slip out of my clothes and lie down on the soft mattress, burying my face in their shirts until I’m coated in their scents. Rolling to my back, I slide my shaking hands over my breasts, pinching and teasing my nipples until my thighs are covered in slick. I grab my favorite vibrator with a thick knot at the bottom and do my best to chase the images of three forbidden alphas out of my mind, one orgasm at a time.
Nineteen
QUINN
