Igniting the Wild Sparks (19 page)

The drive to my apartment is quiet, but he snugly holds my hand in my lap between shifting gears. He definitely is thinking about something. He had offered to stop and get my pain medicine filled, but I told him I’d be fine with Tylenol and if I needed more, I’d get my medicine tomorrow, to which he countered if I need my medication, then
he
would get it for me tomorrow.

Pulling in front of my building, he quickly gets out and jogs over to my side, again bundling me up into his arms before I can get out on my own. “Sparks, I can walk. I did through the ER when we were leaving.”

“Yeah, but once we were out the door, I didn’t let you walk to the car,” he corrects me with a smile. “I don’t mind.” Finn temporarily sets me down to open the glass door, but sweeps my feet out from under me once more, and walks over to the elevator, punching the round, lit button to go upstairs. Looking up at him, he peers down at me as the elevator door opens.

I want to kiss him, but don’t make a move to.

When we reach my door, he digs into his pocket for his key. Suddenly remembering, I tell him, “My car is at the ball field. My purse is in the trunk.”

Sparks shakes his head, giving me a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry.
I’m taking care of it.” Inside my apartment, he leans back against the door to shut it with his shoulder.

I hold tight to him as he carries me through the living room. “I can walk. You’re going to be late for work.”

“I’m fine. I have an hour. I can help you into bed.”

“I need to take a shower, so I’m good if you just put me down,” I entreat again; however, he continues to ignore me, only putting me down when he reaches my bed.

He straightens and asks, “Can I get you anything?”
You.

“No. Just go to work. I’ll be okay.”

Finn shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and his forehead wrinkles with indecision, I think. “Call me if you need anything.”

I roll my eyes. “You’ll be working. I’m not going to bother you.”

“If it’s an emergency, it doesn’t matter. They’ll get me.”

“It’s not like they would interrupt your broadcast to tell you some Finnatic or want-to-be girlfriend has a bellyache. I’d call someone else.”

Faster than I can comprehend, he’s trapping me between his muscular arms, glaring down at me. “You’d better call me if it’s an emergency, Becks. I
mean
it. If I hear you needed me, but didn’t call me, I’m going to be fucking mad at you. Got it?”

I dutifully nod, nervously entranced by him, again anxious about the similarities of my dream emerging.

Deliberately, he drops closer until we’re nose-to-nose, but then hesitates like he doesn’t know for sure if I want him to kiss me.
Oh, I want you to kiss me, Sparks
. He briefly closes his eyes, but unexpectedly moves up to kiss my forehead. He mumbles against my hair, “Get better. I…I’ll call you.” Sighing, he stands and leaves my room.

The disappointment is swift, biting, and tight in my chest, rendering the pain in my stomach a welcomed distraction.

Why won’t he kiss me? Why can’t he tell me he loves me?

I wipe the fresh tears from my face and curse myself for being such a damn crybaby. After a minute, I hear his car roaring to life and drying my face, I reluctantly get up to get a shower, trying to be as quick as I can so I don’t miss his broadcast. When I’m dressed, I find my phone, and see Rod, Morgan and Val called. A lot. I decide not to return any right now, feeling tired and definitely not in the mood for Rod.

Taking a Tylenol, I crawl back into bed and wait for Finn to appear. When he finally does, I instantly notice how worn-out he looks. Even his smile isn’t right. It’s halfhearted and his sexy voice is weary. I did that to him. I feel awful.

“On an end note tonight, today at softball practice one of my players took a line drive to the stomach. I took her to the hospital myself and I’m happy to report that she’ll be okay. No internal bleeding, just very bruised. I was really worried, but she’s such a trooper. So I want to tell her, ‘Get well, Becks. I’m thinking of you.’”
Abruptly, Sparks’ professional act slips when he bites his lip and looks down from the camera. They go to commercial.

I turn off my lamp and the TV, staring numbly into the darkness.

The next thing I know, I’m dipping and shaking.

“Becks! Baby, I’m here. Shh. What’s wrong?”

Startled, I jump and roll onto my back, cringing and whimpering from moving too fast. Blinking into the darkness, I see Finn hanging over me again, except for this time, the moonlight from the window illuminating one side of his face, and half of his hair is a glowing bronze.

Groggily, I glance at the clock and sniff, realizing that I had been crying in my sleep.

He asks, “What happened? Are you in a lot of pain? Do you need to go to the hospital?” He strokes my hair and cheek, his eyes burning brightly with concern even in the half-light.

“I must’ve had a bad dream. Why are you here now, Finn?” Oddly, I start crying again and he moves to get under the sheet with me. His bare legs intertwine with mine as he wraps his arm gently around me. He rests his chin on my shoulder, his prickly chin rubbing my cheek.

He brushes my tears away with his thumb and says, “I got home from work and I didn’t want to be there. I want to be with you. It’s killing me how much I miss you, Becks. I can’t eat, sleep or think. And now with you hurt, I need to be with you.”

“I’m okay.”

“It’s not just that. You’ve been avoiding me and we haven’t been talking.”

“For good reason, don’t you think?”

“No. I want to talk about what happened Saturday.”

I desolately whisper, “You already have.”

He shakes his head, his hair brushing against my forehead. “No, I haven’t. What was your dream about?”

“I don’t know this time. I’ve been having a lot of bad ones.”

“What are they about?”

“You. In them, you’re so mean to me.” Remembering their vividness, my voice catches on a sob and I roll away from him, not wanting him to see me crying again. However, he moves closer until he’s draped over me.

He quietly asks, “What did I do?”

“The worst one was you told me you’d never marry me because I’m just a little whore you only use to screw. You were forcing me to have a surgery so I can’t ever get pregnant. Then you told me you hated me and you wish we’d never met.”

I cry into my pillow and he says, “Baby, no. Shit, Becks, I know this is about what happened last weekend.”

“Sparks, I told you that I get it. I
t hurts, but I just don’t want to fight with you anymore.”

He finds my hand and his fingers weave between mine. “I say the wrong things to you all the time and I’m so sorry.”

“You went to a new low by doing what you did. You were mocking me.” I snivel and dry my cheeks with my free hand.

“No, I wasn’t. I was telling you the truth, but you didn’t want to listen. Instead, you took off and left me.”

Intrigued by what he means, I slowly roll to face him and he lets go of my hand so I can move. We both prop ourselves up on our elbows, anxiously staring at each other. The moon casts light, yet leaves shadows over us and the bed. I whisper, “You said you don’t want to marry me. It’s not that you don’t want marriage. It’s
me
you don’t want.” New tears spring and I look down to the bed.

Lifting my chin, he shakes his head and brushes hair from my cheek. “Baby, no, no, no. I did say I don’t want to marry you, but that’s not the entire truth.”

“Then what
is
the truth, Finn? Then, you say you have a secret that you tell me all the time, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He moves his hand down to my hip, his thumb gliding over my skin and softly says, “I was telling you Saturday, Becks.”

My eyebrows pull together as I become even more confused. “I don’t understand.”

“I think you do.”

I sigh. “Why won’t you just tell me? Morgan’s right. You don’t want to ever give a straight answer. Finn, tell me. What’s your big secret that you’re keeping from me?”

Even in the dim light, I can see the battle he’s fighting as his eyes anxiously dart from me. Fretfully licking his lips, he marginally shifts away from me and says, “Go to sleep. You had a really rough day.”

“So have you.”

“At least I got to be with you today. I’m just glad I got to the field in time to be with you when you needed me.”

“I’m glad you were there, too. I didn’t want anyone else.” He mouth finally eases into a smile and I say, “I saw you at work earlier. Were you really that worried about me?”

He smile vanishes and he nods. “Yes, I was. You could’ve…”

“No. Even if I were bleeding, they would’ve done surgery and I would’ve been okay.”

“You don’t know that. It made me think about what it’d be like to lose you. I wouldn’t know how to go on without you.”

Without thinking, I reach up and caress his jaw, causing his lips to part as he quietly stares at me. “Same with you. You’re my Sparks. I miss you. I hate being apart from you.”

His hand still on my hip, he lightly grips my bare skin, his fingers trailing the edge of my underwear. “I don’t either. Have you come to any conclusions about us?”

“I want you, Sparks. No matter what.”

“You want me?” I hear him swallow before he says, “I’m yours. If you didn’t know it by now, I’m outrageously in love with you, Becks Beckett. I always will be.” His fingers slides up and down my hip and he caustically inhales. “Go to sleep. We can talk tomorrow. You might feel better by then.”

“I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt so much.” I pick up his hand from my hip and lightly put it over my bruise. “I’m tough.”

“I know you are. I admire that about you, but yet, it also scares me because you might not need me or want me around anymore. I love taking care of you.”

I raise a dubious eyebrow and play dumb. “
You
, scared?”

Sparks averts his gaze, mumbling, “I’m afraid of a lot of things, Becks.”

Wanting him to admit them, I probe, “Like what?” Eye surgery, kite festivals, dancing, marriage, and fatherhood. I think that sums up Finn Wilder’s phobias.

Looking back to me, he sighs and gruffly says, “Go to sleep.” No discussion about it, I guess.

I argue, “Well, I’m not
that
strong. I have my own weakness: you. I’ll always want you in my life. Always.” I smile at his handsome, but expressionless face. “I’m yours. If you didn’t know it by now, I’m outrageously in love with you, Sparks Wilder,” I pilfer his words and slowly move closer to him, our legs still tangled. He feebly gives me a crooked smile; however, his dark eyes are circumspect as he holds onto my hip but leans away from me. Perplexed by his action, I ask, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want to hurt you by being too close.” He takes his hand off my hip to gently brush his fingers over the bruise through my T-shirt. Despite the dim moonlight, I’m able to see him intently looking up and down my body, and my nipples rigidly respond to his meagerly-veiled passion. I want to feel his lips on me. Anywhere.

“Why don’t you want to kiss me?” I tentatively scoot closer and I feel what he’s been trying to hide from me.

Sparks’ hand leaves my stomach and slides up into my hair, dragging his fingers down through it, and whispering, “Baby, I want to kiss you, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop there.”

We
do
think alike. Slowly, I move my knee up to his erection and glide it along him, making him close his eyes and to harshly inhale before groaning, “
Shit
. Don’t do that to me.” He tries to pull away from me again, but I cling to his arm and go with him.

Putting my hand on the back of his neck, I caress his skin until my fingers find their usual way into his hair, lightly tugging, and hearing his breath quicken. “I’m okay. Just sore. You’ll have to be gentle with me.”

He shakes his head along with my hand. “Becks, don’t.”

“Sparks, don’t,” I counter and lean as close to his lips as I can without straining my stomach. “What do you want to do with me in our bed?”

His throat rapidly bobs and his voice is husky. “Becks…”

Inhaling his cologne, I bring my hand down to roughly stroke his bottom lip and he nearly pants. “Tell me what you want,” I whisper.

His eyes widen and sparkle in the dark, sending chills through me. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can. Tell me. What do you want?”

He inclines his face close to mine and urgently whispers, “What I
want
? I
want
world peace. What I
need
? I
need
to make love to you. To erase those bad dreams from your mind and to make you understand how much I love you, Becks.” His hand falls out of my hair and slides down the side of my body, back to my hip, where his fingers dig into my waistband.

I push his hand down into the front of my underwear. “I need you to show me.”