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She whirled toward him to find his phone out. Snapping a photo of her.

Hunt’s grin was a slash of white in the rainy gloom. “I’d rather have a stick up my ass than look like a drowned rat.”

Bryce used the spigot on the roof to wash off her shoes, her hands. She had no desire to track the filth of the street into her house. She went so far as to make Hunt take off his boots in the hallway, and didn’t look to see if he was planning on taking a shower before she ran for her own room and had the water going in seconds.

She left her clothes in a pile in the corner, turned the heat as high as she could tolerate, and began a process of scrubbing and foaming and scrubbing some more. Remembering how she’d knelt on the filthy city street and breathed in a face full of sewer air, she scrubbed herself again.

Hunt knocked twenty minutes later. “Don’t forget to clean between your toes.”

Even with the shut door, she covered herself. “Fuck off.”

His chuckle rumbled to her over the sound of the water. He said, “The soap in the guest room is out. Do you have another bar?”

“There’s some in the hall linen closet. Just take whatever.”

He grunted his thanks, and was gone a heartbeat later. Bryce washed and lathered herself again. Gross. This city was so gross. The rain only made it worse.

Then Hunt knocked again. “Quinlan.”

His grave tone had her shutting off the water. “What’s wrong?”

She whipped a towel around herself, sliding across the marble tiles as she reached the door. Hunt was shirtless, leaning against the doorjamb to her bedroom. She might have ogled the muscles the guy was sporting if his face hadn’t been serious as Hel. “You want to tell me something?”

She gulped, scanning him from head to toe. “About what?”

“About what the fuck this is?” He extended his hand. Opened up his big fist.

A purple glittery unicorn lay in it.

She snatched the toy from his hand. His dark eyes lit with amusement as Bryce demanded, “Why are you snooping through my things?”

“Why do you have a box of unicorns in your linen closet?”

“This one is a unicorn-pegasus.” She stroked the lilac mane. “Jelly Jubilee.”

He just stared at her. Bryce shoved past him into the hall, where the linen closet door was still ajar, her box of toys now on one of the lower shelves. Hunt followed a step behind. Still shirtless.

“The soap is right there,” she said, pointing to the stack directly at his eye level. “And yet you took down a box from the highest shelf?”

She could have sworn color stained his cheeks. “I saw purple glitter.”

She blinked at him. “You thought it was a sex toy, didn’t you?”

He said nothing.

“You think I keep my vibrator in my linen closet?”

He crossed his arms. “What I want to know is why you have a box of these things.”

“Because I love them.” She gently set Jelly Jubilee in the box, but pulled out an orange-and-yellow toy. “This is my pegasus, Peaches and Dreams.”

“You’re twenty-five years old.”

“And? They’re sparkly and squishy.” She gave P&D a little squeeze, then put her back in the box and pulled out the third one, a slender-legged unicorn with a mint-green coat and rose-colored mane. “And this is Princess Creampuff.” She almost laughed at the juxtaposition as she held up the sparkly toy in front of the Umbra Mortis.

“That name doesn’t even match her coloring. What’s up with the food names?”

She ran a finger over the purple glitter sprayed across the doll’s flank. “It’s because they’re so cute you could eat them. Which I did when I was six.”

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