“Two,” she shoots back, twisting on the stool, the least amount of her back exposed to him, one foot going to the floor. She hasn’t really looked at him since he was hauled back up the stairs to Cassandra’s crew, bleeding and dripping piss on the deck, and though she meets his eyes for an instant, she drops them just as fast, settling somewhere around his ribs.

A sharp excuse:

“I thought you’d want time to cool off. I needed it too.”