The nickname had stuck, popping up during most incarnations of this fine Saturday. I’d stopped correcting him, as I’d expected. Princess had grown on me. “To get some breakfast and take a nap.”
I did just that, ignoring him behind me as I found my way effortlessly through the kitchen. Everything they had to eat was getting boring as fuck. I couldn’t imagine how they felt — I’d been here for eleven of the same day. They’d all been here for years. During one of my days I’d gone back into Felix’s office and snooped around some more, reading through every file available on the men. Not much was kept on the premises, though, so I didn’t know much more than I had before.
Seamlessly working around Kirin’s bulky presence, I poured a bowl of oatmeal. Again. Same as I had yesterday. I’d given in to calling it ‘yesterday’ even though I was technically replaying the same day over and over. What the heck else was I supposed to call previous iterations?
“Who are you?” Kirin asked.
“Hadley.”
His reaction to my name was something I could envision in my sleep by now, after watching it eight times. The slight widening of his eyes, their depths filling with awe and arousal. That was one fact I’d learned about Kirin. He was always horny.
“Why are you here?”
I sighed, bringing my oatmeal into the living area to collapse on the couch. “Really not interested in having this conversation right now,” I said.
He stepped up to the back of the couch and I stiffened despite knowing he wouldn’t do anything unsavoury. Catching on to my reaction, he moved back and around to lounge on the opposite couch. Whenever Kirin sat he looked five times wider than he was, unless he was reading a book.
“I’m going to eat this and have a full day of rest. You can have a little chat with me after,” I said.
“It’s the morning; you just woke up.”
“I have some catching up to do.”
His lips slipped into a grin for the first time in this replay. My gaze was always drawn to his underbite when he did, his fangs curving up. I so badly wanted to run my fingers along them, rub along his plump lower lip. The worst part was, I knew he would let me. All I had to do was ask.
“You’d get a better sleep in my bed than on the couch,” he said, shrugging his wide shoulders. “These stiff cushions can’t be comfortable.”
“Unlike you, I’m a normal sized human who fits perfectly well on this couch.”And anything is better than sleeping in a bathtub.
Before he could come up with another attempt to convince me to sleep with him — flirting he’d subjected me to every day for the last eleven or twelve — Waylon and Bennett walked into the living room. Both of them were wearing rumpled clothes, and Waylon was waddling like a penguin. They smelled like sweat and sex, and somehow the scent wasn’t disgusting. It was… tempting. And way too much of a reminder of the incident during my first run-through of the day when I’d done something so utterly out of character.
“Zan said we had a guest,” Bennett said, looking between the bowl in my hands and Kirin. “I see you got her settled?”
I glanced around the room on impulse, making sure Zan hadn’t followed them back here. He hadn’t. He never did. The ghost was good at avoiding me.
Kirin shrugged. “She got herself settled.”
“I’m trying to have a calm morning and take a nap, so if you all could leave I would appreciate it.”
“This is literally our house,” Waylon said in annoyance.
“Yes, and I’m well aware that none of us can fucking leave.” If I ever got back to normal life, I’d have to get my swearing in check again. Saying ‘fuck’ made me feel a hell of a lot better about my situation. “Leave the room. I want to take a nap. You all have bedrooms or the library to hang out in.”
Though, I could take a nap on the library couch. Knowing me, I would be too tempted to work if I put myself in a research environment.
“You’re seriously trying to kick us out of our living room?” Waylon asked.
His eyes were narrowed to slits, and he looked ready to fight. Out of the men, I understood Waylon the least. Some moments he was sweet and helpful, while others he was an antagonistic brat. Or worse, just antagonistic, jumping to irritation as a first response. Luckily, Bennett was present and on board with my plan of commandeering the living room.
Only temporarily. I would die as soon as I woke up, and they wouldn’t remember a moment of this.
“Come on, Way. We’ve got plenty we can do upstairs. Better to not get off to a poor start with our new roommate, and she’s clearly…” he paused, looking me up and down. “Well, she does look tired.”
Ouch. That barb went straight to the heart. He was right. I’d looked at myself in the mirror on my way out of the bathroom this morning, and the bags under my eyes were more prominent than they’d ever been. I’d hoped my body wouldn’t show physical effects since all injuries were erased in the rewind, but apparently mental strain still had its effect on my appearance.
“You too, Kirin,” I said when the orc didn’t move, Bennett and Waylon already halfway out the door. Waylon was grumbling irritably. “You’re not allowed to watch me sleep.”
He pouted, and damn if it didn’t make me want to bite his lower lip even more. “So cruel. I bet you’re pretty when you sleep.”
