“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 camerasnearby, 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, likeIstill 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 punishyourself.”
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