“You wanted to use me up for the summer.”
“Stop.”
“Was it some masochistic game to you? To make me fall in love with you, knowing I meant nothing?”
“Stop, Ember! Jaysus,” he yells, pulling back from me and stalking two feet in the opposite direction. He rakes his hands through his dark hair, and for a moment I’m jealous of those hands, jealous that I’ll never feel those silky strands between my own fingers again.
When he turns back to me, he rolls his lips together, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he stares at me like I’m the one holding the gun.
We both know it’s always been him.
“You… You’re breaking me right now. You’re fucking killing me, Em.”
There it is again, that ache in my chest, that incessant need to throw my arms around him and pretend like none of this is happening, like we’re still the people we were just twenty-four hours ago instead of the ones we are right now.
But I can’t.
I owe it to myself to be strong, to see that his actions are speaking far louder than his words.
“Good,” I say, voice cracking. I refuse to blink, but a hot tear slides down my cheek despite my attempt to hold it at bay. “I hope you hurt. I hope you never forget this pain.” I swallow, stepping close enough that I know he can see I’m not shaking when I say it. “I hope you never escape the rotting death of what we could have been if you’d actually loved me the way you said you did.”
I’d left him on the dark beach with those words.
And when I boarded my flight the next day, I thought I’d never see him again.
The memory had my throat tight and dry. I didn’t trust myself to keep talking about my father now, not with my emotions all stirred up like bay water in a hurricane. Between the booze and the sunshine and my heightened state of emotions, I felt two seconds away from bawling my eyes out.
But that memory held onto me.
Curiosity did, too.
And I gave into it, asking what I’d wanted to since that night in the hot tub.
There had been other, more pressing things to worry about since then — Gisella kissing Cameron, Leah being hurt, Finn having an absolute meltdown.
But now, we were alone on the shore — aside from the cameras I was sure were watching us still, even if from a distance — and I couldn’t wait any longer.
“So,” I said, poking him in the ribs just below his heart. “What’s this?”
Finn’s grin climbed. “You know what it is.”
My blood buzzed beneath my skin, a smile curling on my lips at his playfulness. I hated that he was like this right now, that he was all airy and light, no shame as he let his eyes devour me in my bikini. It was confusing as hell, and entirely too easy to pretend we were the people we were two years ago, that we were just flirting and teasing and biding our time until we got the other alone.
“I was right, then? It’s a firefly?”
He nodded, wiggling his toes in the wet sand as he stared at me.
“Is it for me?”
My stomach bottomed out when I finally asked.
“What? No.” He looked out at the water with his mouth downturned like the thought was absolutely ridiculous. “It’s because of the glow worms that used to fill the yard of the cabinI’d go to with me parents in the summer. It’s nostalgic. A little reminder of childhood.”
My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “Oh.”
But before I could apologize for the idiotic assumption, Finn sucked his teeth and laughed, turning to face me again. He slid his sunglasses off so I could see his glazed blue-green eyes, the colors even brighter against the sea.
“Come now, love, don’t be daft,” he said, shaking his head. “Of course it’s for you.”