The accusation hits me harshly. "That's not what this is," I say, fighting to keep my voice level. "I would never—"
"You're my probie," Paul cuts in. "She's my sister. There are lines, Rivers. Lines you don't cross."
"I'm also a grown woman," Michelle steps forward, her voice stronger than I've heard it since the fire. "Who makes her own decisions. Who knows her own mind."
Paul shakes his head, his eyes never leaving mine. "You're on thin ice, Rivers. Very thin ice."
"Paul, stop it," Michelle moves between us, her back to me, facing her brother. "This isn't Austin's fault. If anything, I kissed him."
"You're not thinking clearly," Paul repeats. "You've been through trauma. Smoke inhalation affects judgment. This, whateverthisis… it's not real."
What if he's right? What if this is just adrenaline, gratitude, the aftereffects of trauma? What if I am taking advantage, without meaning to?
"I think I should go," I say quietly, stepping back. The loss of contact with Michelle feels like physical pain.
"Austin, no," Michelle turns to me, her eyes pleading. "Don't let him do this."
I look between them, and know I can't be the thing that drives them apart.
"He's your brother," I say softly. "And my chief. I need to respect that."
The hurt that flashes across her face nearly breaks me. Paul watches, his expression unreadable now, the initial fury fading into something colder, more controlled.
"Get some rest, Rivers," he says, the authoritative voice back in place. "Report for duty at 0800."
It's not a dismissal from the job, but it is a dismissal from this moment, from her. I nod once, unable to trust my voice, and walk toward the door. Every step away from Michelle feels wrong, like I'm moving against some fundamental law of physics.
I pass Paul without looking at him, afraid of what I might see, or what he might see in me.
In the hallway, I keep my pace measured, controlled, until I'm around the corner and out of sight. Then I stop, bracing one hand against the wall, the other pressed to my chest where an ache is spreading outward from my heart.
What have I done? I've jeopardized my place here—the only real home I've ever known, the family I've found in this crew. I've disrespected Paul, the man who gave me a chance when no one else would.
And Michelle... God, Michelle. I've left her to face her brother's anger alone, walked away when every cell in my body screamed at me to stay.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to regain control, to push back the flood of emotions threatening to drown me. The memory of her lips on mine, her body pressed against me, is so vivid it's almost a physical presence.
"Austin."
Her voice cuts through my spiral of self-recrimination. I open my eyes to find Michelle standing before me, her chest rising and falling with quick breaths as if she ran to catch up.
"Michelle," I say, her name a broken sound. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"
She shakes her head, cutting off my apology. Her eyes are bright with determination, with a certainty that takes my breath away. She reaches for my hand, her fingers wrapping around mine with surprising strength.
"Come with me," she whispers, her voice low and urgent. "Please."
Her palm is warm against mine, her grip unwavering. In her eyes, I see everything I'm feeling reflected back at me—fear, confusion, and longing.
I should say no. I should walk away. I should give her space, give Paul time to cool down, give myself a chance to sort through the chaos in my mind.
Instead, I tighten my grip on her hand and nod, just once.
Chapter 5 – Michelle
Austin's hand feels warm in mine as I lead him away from the main station area. The corridors are dimly lit at this hour, most of the crew having retreated to the bunk rooms or gone home. My heart pounds so loudly I'm certain he can hear it, but I don't slow my pace. I can't. If I pause, I might think too much about what I'm doing.
But right now, I don't want complicated. I want Austin.
