We finally dragged ourselves out of bed, grabbing our clothes and taking a quick, hot shower down the hall to wash away the sticky heat of the morning before pulling on our dark tactical gear.
When we walked into the small communal kitchen, the air was thick with a hilarious, suffocating tension. A few of the Reaper guys were standing around the coffee pot and counter, staring intensely at their mugs, the floor, or the ceiling—doing absolute backflips to avoid making eye contact with either of us.
Great, I thought, my cheeks instantly heating up. They definitely heard.
Bastian was leaning against the counter, a smirk plastered across his face as he took a slow sip from his mug. He looked up, his eyes glinting with pure amusement.
"Well," Bastian drawled, "I would say good morning, but
