Daring the Wild Sparks (33 page)

“
That’s
the problem! You want to have sex with me without contraception, but you just don’t want the repercussions to be real. Kind of like how you want everything else in life. You don’t want to get married, yet you want me to live with you as if we were, reaping the benefits of having a live-in fuck buddy, but not having to wear a wedding ring or to call me your wife.”

Finn bellows, “None of what you said is even accurate! Why do you say shit like that? Our relationship isn’t based on just sex!”

“That’s all you seem to want to do when we’re together!”

He dubiously scoffs and throws his hands into the air. “And you’re
complaining
? We only get to see each other on the damn weekends! Do you want me to apologize for getting turned-on when I see you, for wanting to make love to you as much as I can before we go back to our own fucking apartments again for the week?”

I grumble, “I’m only across town.”

“That’s even harder for me! Knowing that you’re that close, but yet, so far away from me. It’s like a slow death! The fact that you don’t want to be with me every night is torture!” He scans the room before looking back to me and shaking his head. “And I’m not talking about having sex, either. I mean, just being next to me every night. Being able to reach over and touch your arm, your hair or your face. To hear you breathing inches away from me. To smell your scent fresh from you and not having to rely on getting a sliver of it from the body wash you keep in the shower, the smell of your scent mixed with your shampoo lingering on your pillow, or your perfume from the jacket you leave on a kitchen chair. To be able to walk up behind you and put my arms around your body while kissing your neck to make you laugh. Telling each other about our day face-to-face over dinner, not over the phone.”

All I can do is stare at him. I didn’t know he felt like
this
about me not living with him. I sort of thought it
was
about the sex
.

He leans forward. “You also said you were okay with not getting married. That’s a lie? So, now you’re
lying
to me?”

I glare at him. “Don’t you
dare
even go there, Wilder.”

“Why not? Now there’s something else you won’t tell me?”

“No. There’s a lot that
you’re
not telling me!”

He loses his patience. “Fuck! I told you everything that matters! What more do you want to know?”

“You not wanting to tell me anything speaks volumes. It says you don’t trust me.”

“I
do
trust you!”

I shake my head and wipe my cheek. “Not enough since you still want me to go on the Pill.”

“It’s not about not trusting you! Damn it!” He leans his head back and looks up to the ceiling briefly before lowering his head. “I’m so sorry for doubting you.”

“So, you trust me, but you still want me to go on the Pill for what? Your pleasure?”

He sighs and glances at me. “Yours, too.”

“What about your beliefs, Finn? Aren’t those more important than you getting off?”

His jaw twitches as he glowers at me, but he’s otherwise expressionless. I wait for his answer; however, he doesn’t offer one.

I slowly stand. “I’m going to get my clothes ready for work and get a shower. I’m tired.” I look over at him, but he doesn’t look up from his legs. I take our plates and set them in the sink and walk back to Finn’s room, feeling more confused and dejected than before.

Score one for Wilder…again.

What happens if he wins?

Or, rather, what happens when I lose?

CHAPTER
22

Last night was not how I expected our Easter weekend would conclude. Far from it. Although, the weekend had also begun like nothing I had hoped it would be either.

After I walked out of the living room, I went into Finn’s room and sorted my clothes, but my mind wasn’t into it after fighting with him. He didn’t follow me or even yell for me to come back. So, I sorted, re-sorted and then totally threw all the clothes into the dirty clothes hamper because I didn’t want to deal with them anymore. I found a beige skirt and a light blue blouse in Finn’s closet that I had put there and had forgotten about. Putting them aside, I then took a shower.

When I dried off and was dressed, I thought Sparks might be in his room, but he wasn’t. I peeked around the corner from the hall into the living room, but he wasn’t there; neither were his car keys that had been on the kitchen counter.

I was stunned he took off. Forget about
me
moving in with him. Maybe he should just move in with Ricky. He runs to him more than he does his mommy.

I thought about waiting up for him to come home, but then decided against it. Most likely, he would be staying out until he knew I’d be asleep. That perturbed me since he’ll be leaving for Charleston shortly after I leave for work in the morning.

Becoming more and more pissed off by his wanting me to go on the Pill and then his bailing on me because I had refused, I threw all of my things into my suitcase: dirty clothes, clothes in the closet, in the drawers, anything I could squeeze in, and I loaded up my car. Then only in my pajamas, I drove to my apartment. I knew I was being irrational and petty by taking all of my things with me, but so was he for ditching me. I doubt I even hear from him before he leaves this morning. So much for him needing me, I guess.

“Yo! Hadders!” A hand goes in front of my face and fingers snap repeatedly.

I jump. “Oh, what?” I ask, breaking from my hazy fog. I look up to see Rod in front of my desk. He’s wearing a dark blue dress shirt with a Smurf tie.

He puts his hands on his hips. “Where were you? I’ve been standing here for an hour trying to get your attention. I was forced to have to stare at your chest.”

I frown and begin agitatedly stacking papers scattered on my desk. “I thought I felt violated.”

He playfully smirks. “You know you loved it. How was your weekend? I was going to text you, but, well, your phone is older than the damn pyramids. Don’t you have one of those phones that prints out the texts in dot matrix on that paper with the holes?”

I concentrate at getting the edges of my pile nice and neat. “Shut up.”

“Grouchy? You didn’t have a good weekend or are you just ragging it?”

Shooting my eyes up at him, I snap, “No, I’m not
ragging it
. When I am, you will be the first to know.” Right after I tell my terrified boyfriend, so he can throw a party to celebrate my bleeding. I wonder what kind of party favors he’d get for a party like that. Maxi pads and Midol?

Rod snorts. “Great. I’ll be waiting eagerly for
that
memo, as will your boyfriend. I’m sure he breathes a sigh of relief every time that crimson tide rolls around. Speaking of Wilder, did you have a smashing time at his parents’ house?”

I set the stack of papers down and focus on straightening up the rest of my clean desk. “It was fine.”

Rod curiously watches me as I reorganize my paper clips. “Hadders, what’s wrong? You’re not your usual effervescent and witty self. What? Did Wilder’s mom catch you two screwing in his old room?” No, but everyone knew what we were doing in there.

I sigh. “No, Rod.”

“The sofa?”

“Rod.”

“The shower?”

“Rod, no! Nothing is wrong!” I drop the paper clips and move on to sorting my mail. “How was your weekend? Did you go see Eden?”

He sits on the edge of my desk, crossing his arms over his chest and his ankles out in front of him. “I did. She was surprised. We mostly sat and watched lame movies on cable and gossiped about people I don’t know.” He smiles and although I’m distracted, I do instantly perceive his marginal twang has returned. “It was great. Oh, then my aunt Amy showed up out of the flipping blue. I haven’t seen her in like 10 years. She just moved back to North Carolina and bought some dive bar that she wants to fix up so there can be dancing and shit like that. She even looks the same after all this time. I remember growing up, her hair was white.” He unconsciously plays with his Smurf tie and says, “She was always trying to teach me weird dances. I think she made up most of them, but shit, she was fun. The bizarre thing is, she’s the one who got me to love dancing, but she definitely marched to her own drummer. Back then, she was always wearing a black trench coat that was two sizes too big and had colorful patches all over it. She also wore these large, black, scuffed patent leather shoes without socks and her shirts were always the button-up kind.” He chuckles and turns to me. “One time, I asked my dad if she was a hobo. What’s more, I asked him in front of Aunt Amy. I got smacked upside the head for that one by my dad and Aunt Amy.”

I offer a small smile, but a blank stare when I discern he’s done talking. “That’s sounds great.” I straighten out my beige skirt and glance away from Rod since he’s giving me a strange look.

“I saw Wilder’s dare. Eden and I watched it online at my mom’s. That was…wow. I did
not
see that coming.”

I sit back in my chair and cross my legs, anxiously bouncing the one on top. “Me neither. I was so shocked. I still can’t believe he got a tattoo with my name on it.”

He quickly shakes his head. “No, that’s not what I’m talking about. I can’t believe he took his shirt off in front of the camera.”

My eyebrows shoot straight up and my leg stops. “He has before for some of his dares.” Too much.

Rod throws an arm out in exasperation. “Yeah, but this was close up! Shit! Your man is ripped! After having that fucker’s 12-pack take over my computer screen, I had to work out for two hours! And that was no easy thing to do since our gym doesn’t have a branch down there.”

I argue, “Finn does not have a 12-pack. I don’t even think that’s possible.”

He waves me off. “Whatever. It’s not my keg.” Rod pats his nonexistent beer gut and I roll my eyes.

Twisting my ring, I say, “You’re pretty toned, Rod. I’m sure you have a six-pack.”

He scoffs, “I wish. I can’t do crunches. They make me want to hurl.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you do them while eating huge, embarrassing sandwiches.”

“Hey now. I only did that once.”

“Right. The other time was a pizza.”

He pointedly glowers at me. “Anyhoo, I ended up running around the block by myself for a fucking hour. At first, I only passed a couple old ladies sitting on their porches. No big thing. Then, the more laps I did, the more old hags there were. They seemed to be popping up everywhere like ticks on a shitzu.”
What
? He shakes his head, throwing a hand up. “By my sixth lap, they had multiplied and were hooting and hollering at me. Some were whistling, not sure if it was actual whistling or if their oxygen hoses were kinked. I felt like I was in a fucking one-man parade! And some of the things they were shouting would make my truck-driving grandma blush! One of them even threw a pair of underwear at me! What’s worse? They still had a Depends in them!” He picks up a paper clip from my desk and starts flipping it into the air and catching it. “Shockingly after that debacle, I didn’t want to run anymore, so I played one-on-zero basketball.
That
was
depressing.”

I courteously nod while trying to listen to his story, but I only truly heard bits of it.

He stops tossing the paper clip and throws it at my chest, snagging my attention. “The tat is real, isn’t it?”

Picking the stray clip up from my desk, I return it to my clip cup. “You saw the dare.”

“I know, but I didn’t know if there was some kind of camera trick, movie magic or some shit like that.”

I fold my hands on my desk and stare at my blue nails. “No. It’s real.”

While still sitting on the edge of my desk, he leans closer to me and whispers, “Did he let you touch it?”

I glance up at him. “Yes. Why?”

“Just wondered.” A wicked smile spreads across his face. “What other places did he let you touch?”

Dropping my gaze back down to my hands, I mutter, “Shut up, Rod.”

“Oh! Better yet, how did you thank
him?” He laughs and I keep staring at my hands. I’d normally laugh at his usual cheekiness, but I’m not feeling particularly jovial this morning.

He stops laughing and sits up. “Okay. So what else happened? You seem out of it.”

“Nothing.”

“Shut
up
, Hadders! You can’t be pissed because he got a tattoo with your name on it. Come on! Chicks love that shit! I bet you couldn’t pull his dick out of his pants fast enough after he showed you what he did.” I cock my head at him and purse my lips, hating how he’s right. He sneers, “What? Was your name not big enough for your liking? Was it spelled wrong?”

I shake my head and heavily sigh. “No, it was perfect.”

Rod’s eyes harden as he stares me down. “How long are you going to lie about your weekend?
Something
went down, Hadley.” His joking demeanor has disappeared. Now he’s in
Greg
mode.

“It was fine,” I lie as he watches me doubtfully, his cinnamon eyes flaring. His smooth jaw is beginning to twitch like Finn’s does when he’s pissed off. It’s almost like Rod has two sides of him, too. The fun-loving, tactless jackass that we all hate to love is his usual status quo; however, as of lately, he also seems to have a sternly protective aspect to his personality. Why am I only noticing that now in the two and a half years that I’ve known him? And protective of what? I don’t really know. His friends, maybe? His pride? His heterosexuality?  Damn it. If Rod can see right through me, then I’m sure everyone else can, too.

“Finn and I had a couple arguments. No big deal.”

Lifting his chin, he tersely asks, “Who says? Wilder?”

I meet his biting gaze. “No. Beckett.”

“What did you fight about?”

I shrug and wish I had kept lying. “A few things.”

His voice is suddenly frosty. “Such as?” He quickly gets up from my desk and shuts the door. When he comes back over, he says, “Val isn’t here. She had a last-minute, early breakfast meeting with the partners, plus Amos and Morgan.” That explains his sparkling language at work. He takes a seat in one of the chairs on the other side of my desk, near the window. I swivel my chair to face him and he leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “Talk to me.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” I grumble as I look away and open a folder to avoid his concerned expression.

“Yeah. So? That’s never stopped me before from hanging out in here with you.” So true. I would worry if he wasn’t in here several times a day. How
does
he ever get anything done?

I flip through papers mindlessly to avoid lying right to his face again, since he’s on to me. “There’s nothing going on.”

He blows out air between his lips in dissent. “You’re a horrible liar and we
all
know it.”

I tentatively glance up to Rod’s eyes digging into me like a backhoe.
Backhoe
. That’s a funny word.

How much do I tell him? Moving in with Finn? The baby request? The Pill fight? Our birth control free weekend? His mom’s bombshell? Surprising me at Beth’s? Church? My meltdown? Finn giving me his jacket and ring? My first attempt at a blow job? Our fight last night?

“Hadley?”

I instantly snap my attention back to Rod. “What?”

His hard expression is all-business. “Talk.”

I sigh. “After I saw his dare, I told Finn I’ll move in with him.”

Rod’s hard expression immediately melts into an astonished gape. “You did? Why? What changed your mind?”

“I miss him so much, Rod. Then he got a tattoo for me. I caved.”

He bows his head, shaking it. “Shit. He definitely plays hardball.”

“Yeah. I had to give him something in return.”

Unsmiling, he responds, “Sex, Hadders. That’s
all
you had to give him. You didn’t have to go and agree to move in with him if that’s not what you want.”

“I do want it. I just…”

“Wanted to be married to him.” He nods. “I know. I can’t believe you gave in to him. You went against your principles.” I’m fully aware of that.

“So did Finn.”

“What do you mean? How?” he asks suspiciously as he scratches his hair-free jaw.

Clearing my throat, I anxiously twist my hair in my left hand. “Well, I took your advice. I didn’t hound him about getting married.”

He drops his hand. “No. I told you to talk to him about getting married, just to take one issue at a time.”