Page 25 of Exile and Embrace

My lips fold together as I get up and stretch, faking a yawn before turning for the door and pulling it open. “It’s been a long day. I think I’m going to go inside and get something to eat before I get to bed.”

Fierce green eyes freeze me in place.

My heart pounds against my ribcage, threatening to break free.

Finn gets up and nods to the door, his hand brushing against the small of my back.

Bumps raise on my skin at the light touch.

I try not to think much of it as I head inside and sit down at the little dining table beside the kitchenette.

Finn sits opposite me, opening the bag and pulling out a couple different containers.

My stomach growls as he pushes the container of shakshuka over to me.

As I crack open the plastic lid, the scent of garlic and chili powder fills the room.

“I didn’t think you knew I liked this.” I take a spoon from the pile of utensils he dumps out.

As I spear a poached egg, he shrugs.

I huff. “I see that we’re back to barely speaking to each other.”

Finn cracks a small smile. “I don’t want to get in between you and food. Could get my head bitten off.”

“I do not bite heads off.” I take the first bite of my food and dance in my seat. “This is amazing.”

“A woman who does not bite heads off doesn’t dance when she eats.” The corners of his eyes crinkle. “The only times I ever used to see you angry back in Virginia is when you were hungry.”

“I really don’t want to talk about that time in our lives.” I shove another spoonful of shakshuka into my mouth.

Finn nods, the table falling silent as we eat.

It’s better this way. We should remember what and who we are to each other and leave it at that.

I finish my food as quick as I can. The second I’m done, I get up from the table and grab my pajamas.

Finn keeps eating as I head for the washroom to get ready for bed.

I wasn’t lying when I told him it was a long day and I wanted to sleep.

But I wasn’t telling the entire truth either.

There is no way that I can sit in a dark hotel room with him, watching a movie, and pretending that everything is the same between us. Not after the events of the last twenty-four hours.

When I finally head for bed, Finn is sitting on the bed closest to the balcony with a gun in his hand. Some old movie plays on the television, soft voices filling the otherwise silent room.

He glances over at me as I crawl beneath the covers, the gun still in his hand. “Good night, Ava.”

As soon as the blanket is pulled up to my chin, his attention turns to the window.

A shiver works its way down my spine as his face becomes a blank mask.

Who the hell is he so worried about?

7

FINN

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