Igniting the Wild Sparks (17 page)

Rhonda hurriedly leaves and I yell
thank you
again to her before turning to Rod. “I thought you were off with Amos?”

“I’m not
off
with him. You make it sound like we’re holding hands and skipping through a meadow.” He glares at my laughter. “Anyhow, we’re taking a break.”

I
nod to the box and tease, “Did you send me flowers?”

He
instantly scowls. “What the hell for? Thinking that I’m gay? Putting poison stickers on my sandwiches? Skipping out on practice, leaving me without a partner? Making fun of my satchel? Laughing at my kite? Spitting coffee all over me? Yeah, right. I wouldn’t send you dead dandelions spray-painted blue.”

My face involuntarily scrunches in confusion as I’m sucked into a Rodism.
“What?”

He rolls his eyes. “You ought to be sending
me
a truckload of flowers for being a douche canoe.” He peers into the box. “Isn’t there a card?”

Tapping my finger on my chin, r
eveling in the opportunity to torment him, I sneer, “Gee whiz, Rod. I didn’t even
think
to check. I’m so glad you stopped by and saved the day!”

“
Ha. You’re a regular Ellen DeGeneres. We
all
know who sent ‘em to you. Let’s not be dense. Our illustrious softball coach is majorly jonesing for you. He can’t even pretend not to worship the ground you walk on. It’s really nauseating.”

Craning my
neck, I aim my ear to the door. “I think Amos is calling you.”

“Calling me what?”

I sigh and wave him away. “Goodbye, Rod.”

As h
e backs toward the door, he pouts, “Fine. I’m going. So glad you missed me, Hadders. Oh, hey. If you want to give Wilder a speedy bang, there’s a Dumpster in the alley. Don’t worry. I won’t blackmail him by taking pictures and posting his junk everywhere. For now.”

Regarding him with uncertainty as I shake my head, I ask,
“Why am I friends with you?”

Grabbing onto the metal doorframe, he widely g
rins while fluffing up his brown hair. “For the witty banter, the phenomenal dancing, and the raw, animalistic sex.” Slowly nodding, he suggestively licks his lips, reminding me of how he licks every bit of ice cream from his mouth instead of using a napkin.

I cross m
y arms, holding back a laugh. “In your dreams, sleazebag.”

His eyes pop open and he drones
as if he’s in a trance, “Or my worst nightmare.”

“Goodbye,
Greg.”

He laughs. “Later, Hadders.”

After he leaves my office, I call Finn before he has to be on the Air. I don’t expect him to pick up, but he does. “Becks! There you are! I’ve been calling and emailing you! I just emailed you again five minutes ago. Where’ve you been?”

I counter,
“I’ve been calling
you
!”

“Becks, that phone… Anyway, we
need
to talk.”

“We are talking.” I can almost
hear
him rolling his eyes. “Thank you for the roses. They’re beautiful.”

“You’re welcome. I’ve been thinking about you. I miss you. I have to leave for a couple days
. I’ll be back Saturday; though, I’ll probably miss practice then.” At least I’ll get my time to myself.

Feeling a weight lifting, I still frown.
“Oh. Okay.”

He sighs. “Baby, I… We
really
need to talk.”

“You made yourself perfectly clear and then you mocked me. I understand quite well.”

He blows out a huff and speaks lower, “No, you apparently don’t. That’s why we need to talk. I’ve been keeping my distance from you because that’s what you want, but this has got to stop. You’ve had enough time, haven’t you?”

“I don’t know.”
I thought I did until he announced that he just doesn’t want to marry
me
.

He
quietly growls, “Fuck, Becks. Are you kidding? I’m already not allowed to see you during the week and now you won’t talk to me. You can’t
do
this anymore.”

I sit down
at my desk and lean my head against my hand, loudly whispering, “You’re not helping when you do this!”

“
Helping
? You’re not
helping
by shoving me away.” I hear rustling as Finn turns from the phone and says something to someone. When he returns, he snaps, “I have to go to work. I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Sparks.”

“Don’t. I have to go.” The line goes dead and I’m left listening to the heavy silence.

He actually h
ung up on me.

Tossing my phone down,
I hurriedly go online to bring up the live stream of Finn’s broadcast, but have to wait for the commercial break to finish. When they come back, the camera is on Finn. His hair is perfectly styled and he’s wearing a gray suit and a white shirt, accented by a green and gray-striped tie, along with an insta-smile. As I look more closely at the screen, I can see the stress around his eyes, though. Finn Wilder can’t fool me. He’s more than a little wound up. He just hung up on his girlfriend.

His report is bland, which is not like him. He always charms his viewers with boring scores and highlights. He could read an Arby’s menu and it’d be hot.

At the gym, Shane is astonishingly pleasant to me, although he does inform me that I’ve lost another two pounds. I still don’t think he grasps the concept of working out to lose weight. How’d he become a personal trainer anyway?

When I get home, I try
to call Sparks, but he doesn’t pick up. He said we really need to talk, yet he won’t hold up his end of the line of communication. He didn’t even tell me where he was going for work.

Climbing into bed, I wait for him to call back, but he doesn’t. I turn my l
ight off and again cry myself into a restless sleep.

L
ying on a bed, I look around the small room with dark tan walls and a white floor. There is a computer next to the bed with some sort of equipment attached. The room gives off major creepy vibes. When I try moving my arms and legs, straps restrain me.

“Help! Finn!”

Suddenly, the door swings open and Rod dashes in. “Hadders, I’ll help you. Please calm down.”

My panic rises at this bizarre situation and I thrash against the restraints, causing them to dig into my skin.
“What’s happening to me? I want Finn! Get me Finn!”

“It’s okay. He’s here, but he can only stay for a minute.”

I abruptly stop resisting. “Why?”

“That’s
the way it is.” Rod shrugs before running out the door just as quickly as he came in, leaving me alone again. What is going on here? What’s happening to me?

A few seconds later, the door slowly opens and
Finn walks in, immediately shutting the door behind him. I’m so relieved. “Sparks! You’re here! I need you!”

Shoving
his hands into his black pants pockets, he leisurely walks over to the bed, looking me up and down. “You look like hell.”

“Finn, help me! Please get me out of here!”
I urgently beg him as I fight against the straps.

He harshly laughs and
I promptly look up at him just as he leans over me, propping his hands on either side of my body. His familiar, spicy cologne, the one I bought him that turns me on when only Finn wears it, floats over me. His brown eyes are hard and callous, nothing like the expressive, loving ones I’m used to looking into, and they flash when he lowly states, “You’re nothing but a liar. Why would I even help a bitch like you?”

This isn’t
my
Finn Wilder.

Astonished
by how cold he is, I sputter, “I didn’t lie to hurt you! I just didn’t want you to think less of me because I took the Pill! I’m so sorry, Sparks! Please don’t hate me!” I sob. Tears start to seep out of my eyes, blurring my vision, but I can’t wipe them away.

He laughs, his bright white teeth sparkling against the backdrop of the drab room
, yet his face darkens. “You should’ve seen your face when I got down on my knee.” He tilts his head and observes me with false concern. “It was fucking hilarious. You didn’t want to believe how much you wanted to believe it. What a sad conundrum you are.”

Heaving against the straps, I cry, “Finn!” I squeeze my eyes shut, praying to
God that this isn’t real.

When I open my eyes, he’s now closer. H
is insincere smile curtly disappears and he snaps, “Don’t
ever
think I’m going to marry you and give you my name. You’re only trying to trap me. Why in the fuck would I want to have a damn kid with you? I can’t even trust you to take a damn pill.” His eyes flare with growing disgust. “You’re getting a little procedure done so I don’t have to worry about impregnating you anymore.”

Through my
cries, I wail, “If you don’t trust me, why are you even with me then?”

“Because you’re an easy little whore
who opens her pussy for me whenever I snap my fingers; although, it is a fucking disgrace you can’t even suck my dick.” I gasp and he nods as an icy smirk creeps onto his face. “But, you are an easy lay. I
know
the effect I have on you and the rest of the women I screw. You cream when I walk into the room. It’s great because I can fuck you anytime, any way I want, and I don’t even have to leave money on your nightstand when I leave.” He cruelly laughs to which I cry harder. “That’s damn convenient.”

To escape, I close my eyes, but that doesn’t stop him from
viciously prodding, “You actually think I’m in
love
with you?” He again disdainfully laughs, and all I can do is to turn my head. However, that gives him instant access to my ear and he persistently whispers, “You’re even more fucking delusional than I thought. I don’t love you. As I matter of fact, I
hate
you, Hadley Beckett. You make me want to jump off the New River without a parachute. Meeting your sorry ass in this very hospital ruined my fucking life.”

I
violently awake in a flustered sweat, shaking and crying. Panicked, I glance around my bedroom to gain my bearings. That, by far, was the worst and most vivid nightmare yet. I could smell his scent and taste his hatred.

Does he really feel that way about me? Is
that
his deepest, darkest secret? Is he really only using me for sex while hating me at the same time? How can he have sex with me if he can’t stand me? Even though I have doubts, that doesn’t seem like something Finn would ever do.

I eventually get up to change my
damp shirt and drink a glass of water. After that dream, I can’t get back to sleep, so I turn on the TV, but find myself mindlessly staring at it. Does Finn dream about me? Does he even miss me as much as I miss him? He says he never cries, but would Finn Wilder ever cry for
me
?

On Friday, since Finn isn’t at the station to host
The Wild Side
, they play his recent dare at the racetrack. He looks sexy in the black driving suit they gave him to put on. His scruffy baby face and messy, golden bronze hair make me tingle. Finn got to race around the track, which he obviously had a blast doing from the constant smile he sports afterward. He also interviewed some of the drivers and flirted with a few of his Finnatics on camera. One even asked to see his new tattoo. He politely declined, saying it’s difficult to take his suit off with the mic on. Is that the truth or did he just not want to show it off?

After showing his dare, the
team’s interviews at the ball field follows. Our interview comes up and shockingly, he left everything in, even the second kiss. He’s actually showing his Finnatics him kissing a woman. Me. I thought I had kissed him first, but after watching it, I may be wrong. My heart starts to race like the car he drove, and incredibly swelling with love for him.

When
the broadcast returns to the studio, Darren Matthews is initially speechless. He turns to Clare Weekly, a meteorologist.
“Did that just happen? Did we just see Finn making out with one of his softball players?”