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Grinning, he carries our plates to the breakfast nook, and we chow down, inhaling the food.
I’m ready for a three-hour nap when the cheese and grease hit my belly, but I need to spend the afternoon working.
“What are you up to the rest of the day?” Orion asks as we bring our dirty dishes to the sink.
“Accounting,” I say casually. “You?”
“I was gonna work on code while my hormones aren’t making me a banshee. You want to come upstairs? We could hang in the living room…” There’s a bashful note to his voice, and he ducks his head, his ears turning red like he’s asking me on a first date.
As much as I should say no, I just…can’t.
I like being around him.
Too much. He’s so sweet. So fun. With our time together so limited, so what if I want to be in the same room as him for just a little while longer?
“I’ll grab my tablet.” I hurry downstairs and slather on another layer of lotion. The tiny bottle is seriously almost empty, and if I run out, I’m going to have to start spritzing with the hardcore industrial cleaner.
Anything to keep my scent hidden.
When I’m positive my perfume isn’t leaking, I head back upstairs.
Orion sits in the corner of the leather sectional sofa with his knees propped on a hassock, and his laptop propped on his knees. He frowns at his screen. I don’t bother him, sinking into the cushions on the far side.
It’s sinfully comfy, the leather ingrained with all the guys’ scents, and broken-in to perfection. I have every plan of working, but I’m so full, so lulled, so tired from all my workouts that my eyes start to fall, and I slip under before I can help myself.
“Fucking shit,” Orion’s mutter jolts me awake.
I panic, thinking I’ve scented in my sleep, but he’s not paying attention to me, leaning hard into his laptop screen.
I let out a heavy breath that has him peeking up from his work.
“Sorry. Did I wake you?”
“It’s fine.” I have no business sleeping in front of him, right in the living room where any of the guys could come home at any moment and catch a face full of my perfume.
“This project is killing me.” He lets the laptop slide off its cushion and rubs the back of his neck.
“What are you working on? Or is it classified?”
He makes a frustrated noise in his throat. “I’m not allowed on the Wyvern House servers. I’ve been coding a video game for fun.”
“A game?” I ask, suddenly interested.
I took a few coding classes at the OCC and I liked them for the same reason I like math—lines of symbols that just make sense. It was only a basic class though. An intro for omegas who want to mate engineers.
Nerd packs are sexy.
“You want to see?” Orion asks hopefully.
“Sure.” Interested, I crawl across the couch to him.
Orion clicks around before offering me his laptop. “It’s a resource management game. You have to raise a wolf pack. Help them hunt, breed, expand the territory. The graphics aren’t there yet, but I’m trying to get the mechanics fixed before I go all-in, you know?”
The wolves are super pixely, but the interface is fully programmed, with a pack of little wolves bouncing on screen. I snort when I read the selected wolf’s name. “Finn?”
Orion smirks. “Check his stats.”
Aggression: 5
