Chapter Twenty-Three
POST-PRODUCTION CONFESSIONAL
CLOSE QUARTERS
EMBER REED: CHIEF STEW
PRODUCER
We’d like to go back to the night of your date with Eli.
EMBER
I’m sure you would.
PRODUCER
As you can probably imagine, that episode was when everything really shifted for the crew. You weren’t very forthcoming with talking head footage on the boat, so we were hoping we could get some of your thoughts now.
EMBER
Any idea of why I wouldn’t have been keen to do interviews after that night?
PRODUCER
Because you felt guilty?
Ember laughs, shakes head.
EMBER
Of course I did, but even guilty people have their shot at a fair trial. That wasn’t the case for me. You all decided to make me the villain.
Ember shrugs.
EMBER
So, that’s who I became.
Now, I was buzzing.
Not a drop of alcohol in my system, and yet every nerve was alive as I casually walked around the corner of the building and into the small alley, gathering my hair in my hands and fanning my neck like I was innocent.
As if I didn’t know who was storming after me.
As if electricity wasn’t prickling my skin in anticipation of what he’d do once he reached his target.
It was sick. I was sick.
And yet I wouldn’t have taken the remedy even if there was one.
The fabric tie fastening around the waist of my dress pulled taut, yanking me to a stop just as I disappeared in the shadows of the dimly lit alleyway. I didn’t gasp as I turned. I didn’t even try to act surprised.
I was humming, ready for the fight.
And when I saw Finn’s tight jaw, everything inside me lit up like a firework show.
“You’re actually fecking kidding, right?”
“Sorry?” I pulled free of his grip on my dress, crossing my arms.
“What the hell was that back there?”
“A kiss. Where’s your girlfriend? I’m sure she’d be glad to show you what it’s like.”
Finn’s nostrils flared. “He’s a kid, Ember. And you’re leading him on.”
I laughed. “Eli is far from a kid, Finn, and I’m not leading anyone on.”
“You know damn well that’s a lie.”
My chest was on fire, my skin hot to the touch. I was so angry at his audacity and yet I expected it. I bet on it.
I craved it.
“It’s not a lie,” I combatted. “And I’m not sure where you get off thinking you know so much about me.”
Finn took a large step into my space, the move so quick I backed up without my brain firing off the signals to my body at all.
It was instinct, prey being cornered by a predator.
My back hit the wall of the building, fingertips pressing into the brick, heart leaping into my throat as Finn brought his face within inches of mine.
“I told you once and I’ll tell you again — no one in the world knows you like I do.
And I know you’re leading him on. Want to know how?
” Another inch of space destroyed — along with my composure.
“Because I tick the same twisted way you do, Firefly. I beat to the same fucked-up drum. And that kiss back there?” He pointed toward the end of the alley. “That was all a show. For me.”
I bit my lips together, shoving against his chest even as my voice sputtered out weakly. “You wish—”
“I don’t have to wish, love. You wanted me to watch?
You wanted me to fume? To chase after you?
Well, you got what you asked for. I’m here.
Now,” he said, pressing in another centimeter, just enough for my breath to catch in my throat.
“Look me in the eyes and tell me what you really want to say because I know it isn’t that you’re over me and moving on with that cuttlefish. ”
My labored breath betrayed my arrogance. “Real mature.”
“I think we’re done pretending we’re that, aren’t we?”
I skirted the wall, slipping past him as I rolled my eyes. “Eli’s nice. And interested. And, perhaps the best bonus of all, he doesn’t have a girlfriend.” I gave a tight-lipped smile with that. “Speaking of which, maybe you should focus on Gisella and stay out of my business.”
I turned with those words, ready to sway back inside and leave him there fuming.
I had no idea what game I was playing at.
I couldn’t untangle my emotions, all of them blurring together until I wasn’t sure if there were ten different strings or if it was just one very long string in a very complicated knot.
Was I angry or was I excited? Did I hate him or love him still? Was my heart racing from the adrenaline of revenge or from the anticipation of his next move?
I didn’t get the chance to figure it out.
Because I took two steps and then a hand caught me by the elbow, spun me hard, slid into my hair, curled around my neck — right where that lapwing tattoo was — and pulled me in.
Finn kissed me.
And every nerve in my body detonated at once.
My lungs collapsed, something between a gasp and a moan rumbling out of me as my hands found his shirt and gripped the fabric tight.
I was already kissing him back before my brain even registered that it was happening — before the consequences could catch up, before I remembered the cameras, the crew, Gisella.
But God, he felt the same.
His hands were still strong and sure where they gripped me, one fastened around the back of my neck and the other sliding in to frame my face, his thumb hard on my jaw.
His lips were still warm and firm, his tongue tasting like a thousand memories as it swept inside my mouth and eviscerated any other thought.
It was just a kiss, and yet it was a sensation overload.
Everything was right again — even though what we were doing was so, so wrong.
I melted into it, into him, my fingers curling into his shirt and pulling him closer. Two years evaporated like boiling water turning to steam, all the bad blood whisked away on the next whip of cool sea breeze against our skin.
This was why Eli could never measure up — why no one would.
No one felt like Finn Pearson.
No one could unlock me when he still held the key.
He kissed me like a man possessed — like he hated me for making him want it, like he’d punish me with pleasure just for tempting him. My back hit the wall again and I didn’t fight. I let him pin me, let him take, let myself fall, mouth greedy and open, hands grasping for more, more, more—
And then reality broke through the haze.
I broke away, panting, shoving at his chest until we were an arm’s length apart.
Finn let me put the space there, his eyes wild, chest heaving as he strained to pull his hands off me. His fingers curled into fists at his sides like he had to use all his willpower not to touch me again. My heart ached for him the second we were separated.
A hundred words rushed through my mind, each desperate to be the ones I’d pluck and use to put together a sensible sentence: we have to stop, we can’t do this, you have a girlfriend, there are cameras watching.
But my body overrode the system, and I launched myself back into his arms.
The next kiss was harder.
Desperate.
Worse.
Better.
I whimpered at the feel of his body surrounding mine, brows folding together as I fought to understand what I wanted.
I pulled him into me one second and then shoved at him the next, but this time he wrapped his arms around me — holding me steady and firm as if he could keep me safe when we were the very thing that was dangerous.
“I’m glad the restaurant failed,” he murmured against my lips before he was kissing me even harder.
“You hear me? I’d take the pain of losing it a thousand times over if the outcome was the same.
Because I lost that dream, but then I found my way back to you, and I realized that dream doesn’t mean shit if you’re not a part of it. ”
“Finn,” I breathed against his lips, but another kiss stole my protest.
“I tried to fight it, this pull between us, but I’m helpless against it and I think you are, too.
I can’t stay out of your business, Firefly.
Because my business is you. Everything you say, everything you do — I’m tapped into it.
I’m hanging onto every word. I’m silently begging for your eyes to find mine in a crowded room, for you to come close enough for me to make up some fecking excuse to touch you. ”
I was going to combust. The combination of his words and his mouth as it slid from my lips to my throat and along the line of my jaw and back again was going to take me all the way out.
“We can’t,” I spoke the truth, and yet I held onto him with more fervor, my hands betraying my words. “It’s wr—”
“Wrong? No. Fuck that. Don’t you say that because I know you don’t believe it. You know it’s not true. This? You and me?” His hands cradled my face, forcing me to look at him, and I swore I died and was born again in the depth of his sea-green eyes. “This is the only thing that’s right.”
I shook my head even as my hands weaved into his hair and held him close.
“It’s why we can’t fight it,” he said, his forehead falling to mine.
“Why we never could. We were doomed from the day we walked onto that boat and saw each other again when we thought it was over. What’s wrong is us being apart.
What’s wrong is me pretending anyone could ever matter more than you.
What’s wrong is you pretending you weren’t just thinking of me the entire time you let him kiss you.
There’s no tattoo or piercing you can get to erase me, Em, and I’ll never drink myself over you. ”
Another bruising, passionate kiss had my knees giving out, the weight of me falling into him as I surrendered even before I could find the words to say so.
“The cameras,” I tried.
“Don’t care.” His mouth was on me again, and I was losing my already fragile grasp on what was right.
“I’m so fecking tired of fighting my feelings for you because of what other people might think.
I’ll take the blame. I’ll be the bad guy.
” He kissed me harder, shaking his head as his hands tore at my hair, my skin, like he was afraid I’d disappear in the next breath.
“Just let me have you again and I swear I’ll do anything it takes to keep you. ”
A broken sound ripped from my throat, but it was cut short by another kiss, by Finn sweeping me up as if he could shelter me from all the consequences of our choices.
I was dizzy from his words and the all-consuming rush of yes coursing through me like the best high of my life, but I was also desperately trying to hold on to my morality.
“Gisella,” I finally managed, and the sound of her name was like a shotgun blast. Finn froze, and I swallowed, hand at his chest and putting space between us while I had the chance.
My eyes floated up to meet his. “We can’t…
” I shook my head. “This is wrong. We can’t do this to her.
You have to make it right. You have to end it with her if we—”
“I already have.”
Finn’s throat constricted with the words just as my heart constricted with their implication.
I frowned, head tilting to the side, but before I could question what the hell that meant, there was a burst of noise from around the corner.
The music from the club spilled out into the night air along with the distinct sound of our crew members, and panic seized me by the throat.
“Go,” Finn said, nodding toward the streetlamp as he dipped farther back into the shadows. “I’ll catch up.”
The cameras had already seen everything, but the crew was none the wiser.
I didn’t have time to thank Finn for giving us the chance to keep it that way — at least for now.
I hustled toward the light, running into the crew just as they rounded the corner, all of them cheerful and boisterous and completely oblivious to what had just transpired.
My heart was a snare drum in my ears as Leah wrapped an arm around me and started on about some dance off I’d missed as we ambled toward the waiting cabs. Finn must have gone around the back, because two minutes later, he was jogging out of the club and flying into the cab behind mine.
I touched my swollen lips with shaky fingers as the van started to move, the driver steering us back toward the boat.
I was shaking all over. My stomach was in knots.
I was dizzy and burning and aching for relief.
Everyone in the cab was loud, Cameron singing while Bernard and Leah laughed and egged him on, but it was all muted for me — as if my kiss with Finn had sunk the ship and I was watching them from my new underwater grave.
But there was one thought loud enough to clear the haze.
I already have.
What the hell did that mean?