Killian has the timing of a smoke alarm — always going off exactly when you don't need it.
"You two are worse than teenagers," he said, dropping into the office's spare chair like he owned it, entirely oblivious to the fact that he'd just interrupted something neither of us had fully processed yet. "Genuinely. I've seen actual teenagers with better self-control."
"Killian," Ronan said, low and warning, straightening his jacket with more focus than the task required.
"What? I knocked." He hadn't. "Anyway, I actually came with useful information, if either of you can manage to focus for five minutes." He nodded at the Viper photograph still spread across the table. "You're telling her about the split, I assume, since that's clearly the logo of our least favorite extended family."
"I was
