A beat.
“Yeah,” she says. “You?”
I nod once.
“Still breathing.”
“That’s always a plus.”
There’s a faint edge of a smile there.
God.
Even now.
Even after that—
She still has that bite.
I step closer before I think better of it.
“You pulled that off back there,” I say, quieter now. “That wasn’t luck.”
Her gaze sharpens.
“It never is.”
I huff out something close to a laugh.
Yeah.
I believe that.
Behind us, the team is settling into a loose perimeter. Cal and Jonah are checking ammo. Lance is on comms trying to reestablish signal. Ronan… still nowhere visible, which means he’s exactly where he needs to be.
But my focus?
Locked.
On her.
“You just walked us straight through a kill box,” I say.
She tilts her head slightly. “You followed.”
“Didn’t hesitate.”
“Neither did I.”
That hangs between us.
Not tactical.
Not about the mission.
Something else.
Something deeper.
