They hadn't even made it ten steps when Lena leaned in, whispering close enough for her perfume to hijack Rex's brain.
"So," she said, cocking a brow, "you gonna tell me what's really going on, or do I have to guess? 'Cause I'm pretty sure normal parties don't come with flying lingerie models and chest-level assault squads."
Rex sighed, rubbing the back of his neck like a man confessing to a felony. "You really wanna know?"
Lena gave him a flat look. "I wouldn't be asking if I didn't."
He looked around, lowered his voice like he was about to drop state secrets. Then, with the most serious mock-expression he could muster, he paused dramatically.
