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)
“She left for another charter season, and when she came back, it was just in time to watch everything go to shite.” Finn finished drying the last of the dishes and wiped his hands on a towel before throwing it over his shoulder. “She was there for me.”
He left it at that, letting me fill in the gaps. I wished I’d never asked and then again, I felt better for having the knowledge.
“I’m glad you have her,” I said, and even though the words felt like nails being driven into my tongue, I meant them.
He deserved to be happy.
He deserved to have someone reliable by his side.
“You said she helped you see the restaurant was a mistake,” I reminded him. “What does that mean?”
Finn sighed. “Just means she saw better than I did what a waste of time it all was. She told me I didn’t need the stress of a business like that when I could make a killing as a private chef, whether it be on yachts or for a wealthy family somewhere.” He shrugged. “I knew she was right. I just… it’s hard to hear, I guess.”
“It wasn’t a waste of time,” I said softly. “And if you ever wanted to try again, that wouldn’t be a waste, either. It’s never a waste to pursue your dreams.”
Again, one of his shoulders hitched up, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he changed the subject.
“What about you?” he asked, letting out a long breath as he folded his arms and leaned a hip against the sink. “You ever…”
“No,” I said before he could even finish the thought. I tried to smile, but my lips only curled a moment before they fell again. Finn’s eyes were hard on mine, but I didn’t waver, and something about that quiet galley in the middle of the night made me brave. “I’ve kissed a few boys, cuddled after a crew night out, maybe, but… never anything serious.” I shrugged. “I think my heart still belongs to a chef on a boat in Greece.”
I whispered the words, but they struck Finn hard. I watched as his breathing intensified, his eyes flicking between mine.
“Firefly…”
“I’m sorry, Finn,” I interrupted, and I hated how my eyes flooded with tears, but I didn’t bat them away.
I was so good at running from emotions, so used to that being my modus operandi. But I wanted to feel all of it tonight. I wanted to surrender.
“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I’m sorry I assumed the worst. I’m sorry I didn’t even consider going with you, in any capacity. You regret getting into business with Ronan? Well, I regret the night I walked away from us.”
His brows pinched together as he stepped into my space. He reached out his hand, thumb catching a tear my blink had set free. I closed my eyes and leaned into the touch as my heart throbbed in my chest.
I wanted to stay there. I wanted to bask in what it felt like to have his hands on me again. I wanted to breathe him in, sink into him like a warm bed after a long shift.
My body betrayed me, leaning just a fraction closer before my brain caught up and yanked me back.
I rolled my lips and pulled away quickly, laughing at myself as I wiped my hands over my wet cheeks. “But hey,” I said, voice thin and brittle, “at least we can be friends now, right? I guess the universe works in mysterious ways, bringing us back together like this.”
Finn’s expression was unreadable. He didn’t smile, didn’t nod, didn’t move.
He just watched me, gaze heavy enough to make my pulse stutter.
And suddenly, I felt the urge to bolt rushing through every cell in my body like water from an unleashed dam.
“Ember!”
Nicole’s voice sliced through the quiet, making us both flinch like we’d been caught doing something we shouldn’t. My smile was weak, but I held it as best I could as I slid past Finn, patting his shoulder.
“Duty calls,” I said, my voice hollow.
He caught my wrist before I could take another step.
I didn’t turn. I couldn’t look at him again — not now, not with my heart splintering in my chest and my composure hanging on by a thread. I was barely holding it together, and I was afraid even one more glance in his direction would have me falling apart at his feet.
The weight of his hand around my wrist was like an anchor, holding me to this spot, to this man, to everything unresolved between us. My body hummed with a dangerous energy the longer he held me, both of us breathing like our lungs were on fire. I waited for him to speak, but he never did.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he let me go.