Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
But then, the prick kept talking.
“I should have accounted for how long it would take you to clear the plates, and I probably should have assumed you’d be a little slower than I’m used to.”
The crack in the tension sealed back up, steel reinforcing my spine as I folded my arms. “Slower?”
Finn sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just mean I’ve worked with more seasoned stews before. Ones who know when to clear, how to pace things. It’s different when you’re still learning—”
I scoffed. “Right. So I’m the problem.”
His lips pressed together, frustration flickering in his gaze. “That’s not what I said.”
“It’s exactly what you said.” I took a step closer, heat crawling up my throat. “I’m still learning, so I should have expected to slow you down. Never mind the fact that you took so long plating the second course that the guests had finished their wine before they even took their first bite.”
Finn’s nostrils flared. “I was making sure the food was perfect, Ember. That’s my job.”
“And mine is to provide seamless service, but I can’t do that when I don’t know how long you’re going to take! You said it was me who didn’t communicate, but it was you who messed up and then didn’t cue me in on how that would impact the rest of the service. I’m not a mind reader.”
“I gave you estimates—”
“Which were all wrong.”
His jaw ticced, his whole body coiled tight. “You rushed the clear on the fourth course and you know it.”
“Because you threw a fit about me being too slow to clear on the third!”
We were toe to toe now, the heat between us sparking like an exposed wire. My chest heaved with frustration, with exhaustion, with the simmering rage that had been brewing since we first locked eyes at crew arrival. I was pissed at him for dinner service, but I wasn’t too stupid to realize that it was more than just that.
I was pissed at him for being here, for being back in yachting, with her. I was pissed at how we left things, pissed he didn’t try to come after me when that charter ended, pissed he had been living his life just fine and falling in love again while I still couldn’t see through the rubble his love had left me under.
I hated him.
Because I still loved him.
And if two years without him hadn’t cured me of that disease, I wasn’t sure anything ever would.
Finn shook his head, his voice dropping lower. “You want me to say it was my fault? Fine. It was my fault.”
My eyes narrowed. “You don’t mean that.”
“No, I don’t,” he admitted, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips. “But as much as I used to love watching you throw a fit just so I could spank it out of you, I’m knackered. So, for sleep’s sake, you win.”
My cheeks flamed as I shoved his shoulder with a scoff. He barely budged, but his eyes flashed, that smirk climbing higher.
His breath was heavy. So was mine.
And for a split second, the air between us shifted into something else entirely.
Something familiar.
Something tempting.
Something I couldn’t — wouldn’t — let happen again.
Not now that I knew better.
“I’m not trying to win. I happen to know that’s impossible when it comes to you,” I said, and when his eyes flicked to my lips as I said it, I had to use every ounce of willpower I had not to let my next breath shudder out of me.
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
“You think you know me so well.”
“I know all I need to. I know how much of a coward you are when you’re wrong about something. And trust me, this time? I won’t wait around for a real apology I know will never come.”
I turned then, and the second I stepped out of that heated space between us, it was like a rubber band snapped, time catching up in a dizzying rush.
“And I hope you enjoyed those spankings, by the way,” I threw over my shoulder when I reached the door to my cabin. “Because you’ll never touch me again.”
I longed to feel powerful vindication with those words as I slammed the door behind me.
But they devastated me, instead.
I was ready for bed — teeth brushed, face washed, hair wrapped around a silky, heatless curling rod — when Gisella dragged Finn into our room.
I heard her giggle and his low voice whispering something from where I was still in the bathroom. It almost sounded like he was protesting, but I suspected that was more my idiotic, unfounded hope than fact.
I groaned, letting my head fall back and closing my eyes.
What god did I piss off to have this as my punishment?
“It’s fine,” I heard Gisella say on another giggle, and then nausea bloomed in my throat at the sound of a kiss. “Ember is cool. She’s not going to care.”