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“Oh yeah?”

Taking careful aim, I launched an almond at the glass sitting on the dresser against the opposite wall of the bedroom. The surface around it was littered with nuts, but the one I’d thrown landed neatly in the glass with a clink.

Nuni grumbled, grabbing another few from the bowl resting between us on the bed. “How are you so good at this?”

I popped an almond in my mouth and grinned. “Play netball at school in England. I’ve just got good aim.”

“Netball, huh?” Nuni chewed on an almond as he squinted, lining up his next shot.

“Yeah, and tennis and rounders.”

“Rounders?” He threw his almond. When it hit the lip of the glass and landed on the dresser, he barked, “For fuck’s sake.”

I chuckled. “It’s kind of like baseball.”

“Rounders,” he repeated with a chuckle, looking over at me. His hair was a wild mess on the pillow, yellow eyes sleepy and relaxed as he lounged back naked.

We’d ended up in his bed after our first “hydration break”—I’d called it—and hadn’t left it since, except to use the bathroom and get another drink. Plus the bowl of almonds, which had quickly turned into the competition we were now having. His bed was enormous, the sheets ridiculously soft and luxurious. And there was no cartoon frog quilt, which was something of a relief.

“Did you all have tea and biscuits on the lawn after your gym classes?” he asked teasingly.

I rolled my eyes at him as a smile twitched my mouth. “Obviously. Our only other lessons were tea-making, how to form orderly queues and the art of suppressing all your emotions to just get on with things.”

He laughed, throwing another almond at the glass. “I don’t think I’ve ever drunk English tea in my life. And I’m so bad at waiting in line. Too impatient.”

I smiled, nudging his arm. “Well if you ever come to mine, I’ll make you tea. My parents still drink it by the gallon, so I always have some for when they visit.”

The grin he shot me was hopeful and more open than his usual smirks or cocky smiles. My belly squeezed, and I resisted the urge to lean over and kiss him.

“We should totally go to yours next time.” He threw another almond, missing the glass yet again. “Also, if you’re going to the gym tomorrow morning, we definitely need a redo of our running competition.”

I smiled and casually threw an almond at the glass. It sailed in without even touching the sides. “You won’t win at that either.”

He huffed. “Dude, you’re so cocky.”

I choked out a laugh. “I’m cocky?”

“Yeah. I bet you refuse to do anything in front of other people until you’re perfect at it. Like, if you learned an instrument at school, I bet you practised for hours in your bedroom so you’d be the best straight away.”

I pursed my lips, aiming another almond at the glass. He nudged me with his elbow, a smirk on his face.

“I’m right, aren’t I? What instrument was it?”

“Recorder,” I admitted reluctantly. “In primary school. Then the clarinet in secondary.”

He chuckled. “Called it. Did you carry on playing after you moved here?”

I waved a hand. “For a little while, but I’m not overly interested in music.”

“Me neither. The var Roriks are not musically gifted.”

I grinned over at him. “So, no family band with the whole gang when you were kids?”

“Fuck, that would’ve been a nightmare. Just eight kids yelling and trying to deafen each other with their instruments.”

“Are you all from one… brood?” I wasn’t all that familiar with the terms demiurgus used, but I knew enough about their family structures. They tended to have multiple young at once.

“Yep.” He grinned at me. “All eight of us at once. I’m the oldest by a few minutes. Then Daga, then Laki.”