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)
I was about to hit dial on the provisioner’s number when I nearly ran into Finn in the pantry.
“Whoa, easy there,” he said, his smile charming and infuriating as his hands found my arms before I could fall. “Someone’s in a rush.”
My cheeks flushed, body betraying me in every way as it yearned for me to smile back and lean into his attention. “Yes, well, if you haven’t noticed, some of us are busting our asses to save this charter from being a complete disaster.”
I tried to move past him, but he side-stepped to block me. “And I’m not one of the ones pulling me weight, is it?”
I gritted my teeth. Of course he was. If anything, the food would be the only thing to save us. But I didn’t want to admit that to him.
The longer I stood there without answering, the more his smile slid into a frown. His eyebrows knitted together, hand reaching out to touch the side of my face.
“Hey, you need a break? I can call the provisioner and take that off your plate, make you some tea?”
I knew I was far past exhausted then because tears pricked my eyes, my throat closing in on the words I wanted to scream at him.
I shrugged away from his touch. “I don’t need anything from you.”
Shoving past him, I finished dialing the provisioner as I jogged down the stairs, but I only got one ring in before Finn reached over my shoulder and hit the “end call” button.
“Hey!” I spun to face him, the two of us caught in the cramped stairwell with not nearly enough space between us. I was one step below him, but I jutted my chin high in defiance. “Can you back off and let me do my job?”
“If you talk to me first.”
I laughed. “I can’t think of a single thing I’d like to talk to you about.”
“No?” he challenged.
“Nope.”
“Hmm, not one thing, huh?”
He stepped down with that question, forcing me to do the same. My defiance melted a bit, heart picking up its pace inside my chest.
“Don’t,” I warned.
“Don’t what?”
This time, the words were low and teasing, the corner of his mouth tilting up at the corner. Goosebumps erupted over my skin.
I wanted to kiss him.
I wanted to throttle him.
I wished he’d tell me I was his again.
I wish I’d never been his to begin with.
I didn’t trust myself to bicker back without my voice betraying me, so I withdrew, shaking my head and descending another stair.
“Jaysus, Firefly — what’s the bleedin’ story?”
Ignore.
Ignore, ignore, ignore.
“Did I miss the memo where I became public enemy number one?”
That made me stop, my feet like Velcro stuck to the bottom stair. I whipped around, glaring at him and hoping he felt the daggers I wanted to throw with that gaze.
“You may have missed my memo, but I got yours loud and clear. If you’re so desperate for something to do, why don’t you go make out with Gisella somewhere?”
That wiped the smirk clean off his face.
“I mean, isn’t that your move?” I seethed, taking a step toward him now, the flames of anger finally overtaking the nostalgic ache. I was fairly certain the stationary cameras couldn’t reach us here, and there were no floating cameras nearby, but I turned down the volume on my mic and whispered my next words, anyway — just in case. “Touch me like I still belong to you, make me think for one second that maybe I’m not losing my goddamn mind — and then turn around and press your mouth to hers like none of it ever happened?”
Finn’s jaw flexed. “Ember—”
“No.” I held up a hand, eyes snapping shut before I slowly opened them again. “You don’t get to say my name like that. Like it still means something, like I still mean something when you’ve already proven I don’t.”
He tried once more to speak but I wouldn’t let him.
“I’m done, Finn. I’m done being confused, done wondering what’s real and what’s just some twisted game you’re playing with your own guilt. I don’t care if you’re still figuring it out or if you’re trying to punish her or punish me or punish yourself.”
I shook my head, lips trembling but voice sharp.
“You picked your side, Chef. Now stay there. Because I won’t be a weapon you use against another woman, and I damn sure won’t be your little memory doll you pull out to play with when you’re bored.”
I turned, the sound of my footsteps down the last of the stairs muffled by the downpour outside as I flicked the volume on my mic back on — but all I could hear was my thundering heart.
I didn’t look back at him.
I couldn’t.
I didn’t trust my rearview mirror anymore.
So I ripped that motherfucker down.
CHARTER CONFESSIONAL
CLOSE QUARTERS
SEASON 4, EPISODE 10
CHARTER 7