Bryce nodded her thanks, going back to stirring. “I know people don’t get it. It’s just … a light went out inside me when it happened. Danika wasn’t my sister, or my lover. But she was the one person I could be myself around and never feel judged. The one person that I knew would always pick up the phone, or call me back. She was the one person who made me feel brave because no matter what happened, no matter how bad or embarrassing or shitty it was, I knew that I had her in my corner. That if it all went to Hel, I could talk to her and it would be fine.”

Her eyes gleamed, and it was all he could do to not cross the few feet between them and grab her hand as she continued. “But it … It’s not fine. I will never talk to her again. I think people expect me to be over it by now. But I can’t. Anytime I get anywhere close to the truth of my new reality, I want to space out again. To not have to be me. I can’t fucking dance anymore because it reminds me of her—of all the dancing we did together in clubs or on the streets or in our apartment or dorm. I won’t let myself dance anymore because it brought me joy, and … And I didn’t, I don’t, want to feel those things.” She swallowed. “I know it sounds pathetic.”

“It’s not,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry I dumped my baggage in your lap.”

A corner of his mouth turned up. “You can dump your baggage in my lap anytime, Quinlan.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “You made it sound gross.”

“You said it first.” Her mouth twitched. Damn, if the smile didn’t make his chest tighten.

But Hunt just said, “I know you’ll keep going forward, Quinlan—even if it sucks.”

“What makes you so sure of it?”

His feet were silent as he crossed the kitchen. She tipped back her head to hold his stare. “Because you pretend to be irreverent and lazy, but deep down, you don’t give up. Because you know that if you do, then they win. All the asp-holes, as you called them, win. So living, and living well—it’s the greatest fuck you that you can ever give them.”

“That’s why you’re still fighting.”

He ran a hand over the tattoo on his brow. “Yes.”

She let out a hmm, stirring the mixture in the pan again. “Well then, Athalar. I guess it’ll be you and me in the trenches for a while longer.”

He smiled at her, more openly than he’d dared do with anyone in a long while. “You know,” he said, “I think I like the sound of that.”