What have we done?
Everything felt so right in the moment. When Finn held me and kissed me and touched me, when he told me how he felt, how he’d felt for weeks —years. Last night, we were just two people in love against all odds, floating in our own little bubble.
Well, that bubble had officially been popped.
And the reality of our carelessness was crashing over me like a tidal wave.
Gisella looked between us — the tangled sheets, our clothes scattered around the room, Finn’s calm but protective demeanor.
“This explains a lot,” she said, her voice rough. “Guess I know now why you got so pissed at me kissing Cam. Hard to stomach the thought of me cheating on you when you were already doing it to me?”
“That’s not—” I balked, shaking my head with wide, pleading eyes. “We didn’t, Gisella. I swear. Last night was the first—”
“Don’t insult me with a lie.” Her eyes narrowed, full of fire. “At least have the decency to own your shit,zorra cobarde de mierda.”
Before I could say another word, Eli appeared in the doorway, concern etched into his face as he stepped inside. But one glance at the scene — the discarded clothes, Finn shirtless in front of me, the way I clutched the comforter to my chest — and his expression flattened into something I hadn’t seen from him before.
Disappointment.
His gaze swept from Finn, to the floor, to me.
“Wow,” he said, voice flat. “Real nice.”
He turned on his heel, shaking his head, and let out a sharp, humorless laugh that felt like a punch to the gut.
My stomach sank further, the weight of his judgment heavier than the luxury comforter I gripped like a lifeline. Voices stirred outside the door — hushed, then louder, pressing for answers — and Eli must have shoved right past them without a word because the muttering turned to footsteps.
And then the crew flooded in, drawn to the drama like moths to a flame.
One by one, they crowded the cabin doorway, peering over shoulders, ducking under arms, gasping as they took it in.
My heart beat loud and unsteady in my ears as each one of their gazes landed on me.
Finn squeezed my knee again.
Bernard was the first to speak. “Well,” he drawled, the corner of his mouth ticking up like a man watching his favorite soap opera. “This is awkward.”
“Shit,” Palmer muttered under his breath, rubbing a hand over his face.
But it was Leah’s wide, wounded eyes that sucker punched me.
“Em,” she whispered. “I thought we told each other everything.”
I opened my mouth to explain — to say I didn’t know I was going to do it either, that it was a mistake, that it wasn’t supposed to happen — but I couldn’t possibly hand her another lie.
And it would be a lie to say I felt anything about last night was a mistake.
Cameron stepped forward with a scoff before I could figure out what to say. “Safe to say that little moment with Eli last night was just for show then, yeah?” he said, arms crossed, his tone full of venom. “Guess you were just soft launching this disaster.”
“Cam, stop,” Leah hissed, smacking his arm.
He shrugged her off. “What? They’re lying cheaters and she led my mate on. Why are we pretending this is some tragic love story when it’s just bullshit?”
Bernard chuckled, suddenly turning toward the cameras with his hands up. He whipped out an Australian accent and crouched low like he was on a safari. “And here we have a rare sighting of chief stew and head chef in their natural habitat. If you look closely, you can see—”
“God, Bernard, will youshut up,” Leah snapped, rounding on him. “You probably encouraged all of this, didn’t you?”
Bernard blinked, caught off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”