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)
Finn didn’t let me finish.
His arms stayed around me, grounding me, and his words cut through the spiral with a steady conviction.
“I don’t fecking care, Em, and I’ll be right here with you until you don’t care either. Maybe we didn’t find the right way back to each other,” he said. “But we found a way. That’s got to mean something. Hell, maybe it’s the universe yelling at us this time instead of whispering the way it did two years ago.”
I blinked up at him, lip trembling.
“We wasted so much time,” he croaked, his voice heavy with regret. “Christ, I hate meself for that. We can’t go back in time and change it, but for some reason, whether it was easy or not, we got our second chance. Don’t let them tear us apart again. Not when we just found our way back. Not when it finally feels like we’re home again.”
My breath caught, chest still tight, but something shifted in it — like the panic didn’t own me anymore. It was like when the downpour turns to a drizzle and then to a drip, like when the sun makes a rainbow before breaking up the clouds altogether
Finn was making space for something softer to grow in its place.
He touched my hair gently, threading his fingers through the strands. “They’ve already made up their minds about us, Firefly. Let ’em. Let them call us the villains. Let them talk. But we know the truth.”
His eyes searched mine, burning with something that made my knees weak all over again. I clung to him instinctively — my lifeline, my home.
“We don’t have to play into their narrative. We don’t have to fight back or prove anything. We just keep our heads down, do our jobs, and be together. Quietly. Steadily. All in.”
He kissed my forehead, soft and reverent.
“Don’t you want that?” he whispered. “Because I swear to God, Em… it’s all I want. You are all I want.”
And somehow, that wrecked me more than the lecture had.
Because I wanted it, too.
I wanted it so badly the thought of not having it was enough pressure to crack a rib.
I nodded, over and over, and when Finn realized I was with him, his eyes shot open wide.
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
And then I kissed him.
My fingers wove into his hair, holding tight as he wrapped me up in his arms and held me to him. Our kisses were frenzied and wild — just like our love.
I didn’t know what came next.
I had no fucking idea how we would survive the next two charters, how we’d keep our teams working together when they all seemed ready to tear each other and the two of us apart. I couldn’t control what story the production crew would tell, but I had a good feeling whatever was spun wouldn’t reflect me or Finn in a good light.
It seemed impossible to stay afloat, and yet we were. We would. Together.
So, I kissed him with the cameras watching and the whole world judging.
And I buckled in for what I didn’t know would be the wildest charter of my life.
CHARTER CONFESSIONAL
CLOSE QUARTERS
SEASON 4, EPISODE 12
IN-BETWEEN CHARTERS 7 AND 8
PALMER HUGHES: BOSUN
PRODUCER
Well, this morning was… something. How are you feeling after the madness?
Palmer blows out a breath.
PALMER
Nervous. We’ve got a high-profile group of guests coming aboard and everyone is at each other’s throats. Hard to work together as a crew when every ounce of trust has been obliterated.
PRODUCER
So, what’s your game plan to make it through the charter?
PALMER
Keep my focus on the deck team and making sure they’re successful — but that sounds easier than it will be. Eli’s feeling foolish after that shit with Ember. Cameron is sick over Leah shutting him out. Gisella is…
Palmer swallows.
PALMER
No one is at their best right now. My job is to make sure the guests can’t tell. We need a perfect departure, a smooth anchoring, water toys galore, and a clean, safe deck. If we can pull that off, it’ll feel like a normal charter to the ones holding our tip.
PRODUCER
And interior?
Palmer shrugs.
PALMER
Not my problem.
The dockside breeze carried the scent of sunscreen and saltwater, the sun peeking out between puffy white clouds on what should have been a perfect day. It was warm but not too hot, the water was smooth, the wind pleasant without being enough to make it an uncomfortable cruise.
I felt like a zombie.
I stood with my tray of Veuve, white blouse crisp and smile polished within an inch of its life, as the latest guests boarded Sinking Sun. They called themselves “The Successful Six” — a self-proclaimed name I’d only learned a few hours ago, thanks to the four-page preference sheet that read more like a Forbes feature and less like a hospitality request.
The tension had been thick at the table in the crew mess as Captain Gary read over everything, not a smile in sight. Palmer wouldn’t look at either Finn or me, content to talk to Captain like we didn’t exist. Finn and I chose to stay quiet for most of the meeting, chiming in only when necessary to give our opinion on something with service or food.