IRIS
I’m standing in the kitchen, wrist-deep in suds, rinsing off the dishes from lunch when I hear the front door creak open. A few seconds later, Daisy walks in, dropping her bag with a groan that says more than words ever could.
I glance over my shoulder, smirking. “Rough day, soldier?”
She sighs like she’s been carrying the world. “You have no idea.”
I wipe my hands on a towel and lean against the counter. “Oh, come on. What happened? Burn your tongue on coffee again? Trip in front of your class crush?”
She lifts her head, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and mild trauma. “Guess who showed up to my painting class today?”
I arch a brow. “Uh… Leonardo da Vinci?”
“I’m serious.”
“Okay, fine. I don’t know. Who?"
“Zeus McAllister.”
I blink. “Wait. What?”
She nods, walking over to
