Finally, DJ was done and it was time for their second challenge, and Rico realized that twelve years of being separated from Ashna had done nothing to take away his ability to feel her devastation.

“Let’s take a brief break before we move on to the challenge,” DJ announced but she didn’t seem to hear him.

Her shaking hands gripped the countertop. Then she seemed to realize that her hands were visible and hid them behind the countertop. Rico picked up a rolling pin and handed it to her.

She grabbed it and squeezed it so hard that it was a miracle it didn’t splinter.

“Hey,” he said, but again, it didn’t reach her.

Over the years Rico had seen a lot of rookie nerves. That wasn’t what this was. But it was definitely something. Something he had to figure out.

“It’s just throwing ingredients together,” Rico said, repeating her words from long ago.

His words seemed to strike her like a physical blow. Her gaze on the rolling pin in her hands sharpened, came back into focus.

“That’s just something people who can’t cook say.” She was right. She had said it when she’d avoided the kitchen at all costs. He’d told himself it was her quiet rebellion against her father, the natural need for a teenager to seek an identity outside of their parents. Asking her about her parents had been off the table.

“But now you can cook, right? You made that journey, no matter what it cost.” She stiffened. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that last part, but it snapped her out of whatever this was. “You said you were here to win. To win you have to play the game.” He jumped into pep talk mode. “Just stay inside the game and shut everything else out and you’ll be fine.”

The pep talk fell like a spark on her temper. “Must be nice,” she snapped, her tone so cold a shiver ran through him, “to care only about what you want. To be able to shut everything else out. To have nothing to lose.”

She thought he’d lost nothing?

When he’d first arrived here, all he’d wanted was for her to believe that. That she had taken nothing from him. But to see her actually believe it . . .

He knew his eyes had gone as cold as hers. “It’s the orphan’s advantage. No one to please. Nothing to lose.”

She paled. His first offering of guilt from her. Fuck that. She could keep her pity.