He shrugs and says, “Maybe I am, but I still told her my deepest, darkest secret.”
We all know what that secret is. Since he didn’t get it tattooed, then he probably has it written on a billboard somewhere, took out an ad in the paper or had it spray painted on that fucking bridge he’s in love with. If he hasn’t done it yet, he will.
The waitress stops to collect our glasses for refills. When she leaves, I raise an eyebrow at Finn. “Your secret: That you’re afraid of marriage?” Old news.
He frowns at me and shakes his head, his sexy hair bouncing. “Not that one.”
Deepest, darkest secret? What the hell?
“What other secrets are there? I hope you’re not keeping a major secret from her.”
He teasingly smirks. “She may not remember when or what I told her, but I do actually tell her my big secret every single time we’re together.” His expression is cunningly doleful. “I guess she doesn’t remember because she undeniably would’ve mentioned that she knew.”
He sits back; a sudden, brash smile spreads over his face. “Match point, Becks.”
I playfully grimace at his arrogant attitude. “Simone is right. You are a cagey bastard.” He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms again.
My turn.
Staring at his face with my chin in my hand, I smile sweetly, biding my time, and say, “I took my boyfriend to see a lighthouse because of what I told him about me being his safe harbor. I doubt he noticed, but I wanted to show him one as a literal symbol of my undying commitment to him and my promise to love him forever.”
I cross my arms, reclining against the seat, mimicking his stance.
“Checkmate, Wilder.”
CHAPTER 12
Finn blankly stares at me before ultimately muttering, “I know that’s why my girlfriend did it.”
He did? He is a cagey bastard!
Shifting to lean over the table, Finn clasps his hands together and glances around us. His brown-eyed gaze returns to mine and he quietly says, “However, I wouldn’t compare my reason for living to an old, musty, crumbling building. She is the light of my life. A damn lighthouse isn’t.”
Stunned by his unusual candor, the look on my face has to be priceless, though, his smile is transversely self-assured as my eyes fall to his lips. His eyes light up as he boasts, “Wilder hits the ball out of the park, a grand slam, winning the World Series.”
He has me bloodied and beaten on the mat, but it feels oh so good.
I reach my hand across the table and whisper, “I really want to kiss my boyfriend right now.”
He slides his hand to mine and whispers back, “Your boyfriend really wants you to kiss him right now.” We look at each other; his brash teasing replaced with a charming smile lighting up his captivatingly handsome face.
Like a sudden blast from an air horn, Black Veil Brides’ “Wretched and Divine” blares loudly, breaking into our private world, and not-so-surprisingly, startles me. There are three other people in here. There is a man also talking on his phone, while the two women on the other side of the aisle, are animatedly talking to each other. None of them seem to be aware of his phone’s eruption. Finn uses that song as the ringtone for all of his calls. However, I’m not sure what he uses when I call. Probably something offensive, or maybe nothing at all. Either way, I’m afraid to ask.
He picks up his phone from the table and checks the screen, angrily scowling at it. “What the hell does she want?” he complains, resentfully answering it without letting go of my hand. “What?” He gets right to the point and his eyes drift down to the table between us as he listens.
“Yeah,” he says irritably.
He glances up to my face. “She’s with me. What about it?”
After hearing a response, Finn growls, “No. We’re spending the day together and she’s not leaving my side any time soon.” It’s Julie. It has to be. Shit.
He turns to look out the window and caustically says, “We ran off to Vegas. Sorry, we forgot to mention it.” Oh, Finn. Don’t do that to your mother. To me.
“No.” He indignantly rolls his eyes and huffs out an agitated breath, shaking his head in defiance with bronze strands of his hair fluttering above his eyebrows. I wonder what Julie has to say about the Vegas crack.
“I’m not sure yet.” There’s more silence. He flicks his eyes around, alternating to the table, the window, and me.
“We’ll be back there sometime later tonight, I guess. Again, I don’t know what we’re doing. We’ll sleep somewhere.” He absently bites his lip while waiting for his mother to comment about that possibility of us sleeping on the beach or in my car. His eyes close as he listens. I grab his hand and stroke his knuckles, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
His eyes fly open and he glances out the window. “Right. How’s Ricky? I haven’t called him.”
I smile at one of the two women with short, snow-white hair, walking past our table to the restroom. She smiles and politely nods, her gaze curiously skidding to my boyfriend. I’m sure the entire restaurant is listening in on his conversation since he’s used to enunciating and emoting loud and clear at the news desk.
“No, we’re already eating lunch.” As he waits for a reply his thumb slides against my index finger, finally acknowledging my attempt to comfort him.
“Because I wanted us to be alone, that’s why,” he snaps. I caress his fingers and he moves his gaze to our joined hands.
“Why wouldn’t I want to be with her right now? She’s not the one I need to be away from at the moment!”
I peer around the dining room and now his conversation has the attention of the two remaining people. Fantastic. Looking back to Finn, he closes his eyes and says into the phone, “Don’t start doing that.” He shakes his head, holding the phone away from his mouth, and mutters to the table, “Shit.”
After another brief silence, he sighs. “Look, we’ll see you later.” He abruptly ends the call and drops his phone on the table. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. His hand is frozen in mine and his eyes are downward.
I clear my throat. “What did your mom say?”
Not looking up, he nonchalantly shrugs and grumbles. “Oh, she just wanted to make sure I didn’t scare you away.” Finally looking up, he sits back, rubbing his hand up over his face and into his hair. He suddenly looks tired, or just resigned to Julie and Jack’s divorce.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” I tease, trying to make him laugh, but he glares at me instead. “I was just kidding,” I quickly recant, feeling stupid for opening my damned mouth again.
I look out the window and stare at the lighthouse, feeling his limp fingers in my hand. How can I turn this shitty day around? Am I making his life worse by dragging him around to sightsee? He was the one to hunt me down last night, having sex with me without a condom and not caring that he did, even after the brawl we had about having a baby. A few days ago, I had my sweet and loving boyfriend. I don’t know how to handle Finn Wilder now. Not like this.
Warily, I face him. With his fist propped on his jaw, he’s also lost in the view out the window. What’s he thinking about? Quietly, I suggest, “Why don’t we go put some sunscreen on and go take a walk on the beach?”
He forces his eyes from the window, his forehead wrinkling as he testily asks, “Now?”
I shrug, reluctantly feeling like I’m actually an idiot and should be locked away in a straightjacket in a padded cell. Do they even have those kinds of cells anymore? If so, I’d like to make a reservation. “Why not?” I ask meekly.
Finn purses his lips, holding back what he really wants to say. It’s the stage before his hand goes to his mouth, so I know I’m entering dangerous waters. He hardens his already-dark stare and his reply is edgy, “Because I’d rather be alone with you somewhere.” Somewhere? Would a Dumpster do, like Rod’s recent voyeuristic episode?
I swallow my pending snide remark, not wanting to alienate him any further. Tucking a wisp of hair behind my ear while glancing aroun
d the room, I quietly answer, “We can do that, but let’s first take a walk.”
His mouth impatiently pops open and his eyes are despairing. “You said we could go back to Bethany’s after the lighthouse.”
Not wanting him to make more of a scene than we presently are, I quickly nod to pacify him. “We will.” Can’t he pretend to appreciate it a tad? I’m trying my damnedest to explore our relationship in public, cheer him up, broaden his horizons, or something along those lines…I think.
I lightly pound my fist on the table in exasperation and loudly whisper, “I’m trying to show you a good time, Finn!” That sounded beyond slutty if anyone around us overhead that. Damn it.
His frown promptly morphs into an impishly sexy smirk. “Oh, baby, you absolutely would be.” He provocatively licks his bottom lip and cocks an eyebrow at me. I know his mind is now elsewhere. Men. A goldfish has a better attention span.
Putting my elbow on the table, I rest my forehead on the heel of my hand, lightly shaking my head at his one-track mind. I’m losing a never-ending battle with him.
Hearing his voice closer to me as he leans over the table, he says, “Becks, we don’t have a lot of time. If we’re going to Vigil tonight, then we’ll have to get ready to go soon.”
So now, he wants a quickie? Absolutely because this discussion has turned me on like a lawn mower needing primed 50 times before it’ll splutter to an undecided start.
I nod against my palm before raising my head. “Okay. Let’s go for a short walk, find a few seashells, and then we’ll…make out.” Right…just make out. He won’t be having any of that, I’m sure, since last night he turned my shirt into a tattered mess.
His perturbed gaze doesn’t leave my face as the waitress stops by our table to give us the check. I reach to grab it, but Finn manages to swipe it with his free hand, while still staring at me intently. I guess good reflexes are good when you like to dangle from bridges. I’m so lame.
Fearing the answer, I take a risk and ask anyway, “Are you mad at me?”
His brown eyes glower at me and his jaw ripples as he contemplates his answer. “A little.”
Fuck…
I sigh and my lips contritely pull to the side. “I didn’t mean to disappoint you. I just want us to spend some time together.”
He lets go of my hand to pull out his wallet. Giving me a dirty look, he digs out his credit card and drops it onto the check tray. “And what I want to do with you isn’t spending time together?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, it is, but we wouldn’t be talking.”
He argues with a deeper scowl, “I talk to you.”
“I don’t mean that kind of talk, Finn.”
He takes his turn rolling his eyes before continuing to glare at me. “I tell you things…”
“Not important things.”
He scans the room, avoiding answering me directly. “We’re talking now. What else is there to talk about?”
I shake my head. I’d say it’s like talking to a statue, but hell, a statue gives me its full attention.
The waitress takes the check and I stare down at the cherry-stained table. He will not use sex as a crutch, even for this shitty time in his life, especially since I’m moving in with him. That’s not why I’ll be in the same apartment as him. I refuse to serve as a…dick cozy. Ever since Morgan alluded to Finn using me as one, I can’t get that allusion out of my head. I don’t want Finn to use me like that, even if he’s hurting. I thought I could be everything he wanted, but maybe I can’t be if I won’t let him fuck me whenever he wants just so that he can feel something else besides his pain.
What the hell is wrong with me? He has Finnatics that would kill to be in my place. I’m failing at this. I only wanted to show him other sides of our relationship since we’re not together much, and we’re hermits when we are together. I’ve seen so many movies with him at home and I’m tired of them. Not that I’ve actually seen all of them. Mostly, we end up having sex halfway through a movie, or if it’s not one I’m in to, I usually fall asleep next to him on the couch out of sheer boredom.
Finn suddenly clears his throat, causing me to jump, instantly reminding me of another thing Rod said of my erraticism: “You’re jumpier than that Jack Be Nimble fucker lighting his dumb ass on fire.”
I look up to see Finn standing beside my chair, waiting not so patiently. I guess I got lost in my thoughts…or Rod’s. Weirdo.
I grab my purse and Finn holds his hand out for me to take, swiftly leading me to my car. Crossing the lot, he reaches into his pocket and yanks out my car key, handing it to me without a word. Jeez. A valet would at least wish me a good day.
The ride back to Bethany’s is just as silent, except for the radio’s nonstop commercials.
I want my sweet and playful Finn. I know he’s hurting right now, but I don’t want to lose him forever. I have to keep trying, yet I don’t want to annoy him, either. I told him that I’ll be whatever he needs me to be. I have to remember that I did tell him that. Though, does that mean I have to feel like I’m only good for one thing now? Why can’t I be more like Morgan? She knows how to handle every situation and everyone. She’d know what to do right now. I feel like I’m paddling in the middle of the ocean with nothing to grab onto.
When we stop at the traffic light before we turn down Bethany’s street, I glance at Finn, who is staring out his window. What’s going on in that head of his? Does he hate me? Wish he came to his mom’s alone? He and Ricky probably would be drinking the whole time, and most likely he wouldn’t be sober the entire weekend; therefore, his mom’s news wouldn’t even have affected him so much.
I reach over to his lap and wrap my fingers around his hand. He turns from the window and gives me a small smile as he squeezes my hand. I give him a small, hopeful smile in return.
I tentatively ask, “Do you want me to go home?”
His jaw drops and his eyes scour my face before I have to look at the road. “Huh? What do you mean?”
I look straight ahead. “I mean, I can go back to Richmond and you can stay here with Ricky. I feel like I’m making you mad all the time.”
He turns his head from me. “You’re not.”
“I feel like I am,” I mutter, but he doesn’t say anything in response. Great.
I pull the car into the driveway. Walking to the garage door, I punch the security code into the box. Walking through Bethany’s garage, I see her car, but when we go into the kitchen, it’s empty. I faintly hear water running somewhere in the house and surmise she must be in the shower.
“Where’s the sunscreen?” Finn asks from behind me.
I spin around and look at him questioningly. “I know you don’t want to go, so why are you asking?”
He walks closer, but doesn’t move to touch me. “Because you’re right. We don’t spend much time together outside of our apartments. Again, I’m a shitty boyfriend.” I stare up at him. His brown eyes are so somber and I can see the anguish in them. His eyebrows wrench together as he swallows and nods. “We’ll go for a walk.”
I look away from him and shrug. “Why don’t you give Ricky a call? I’ll go by myself.”
Turning to leave, he grips my arm, holding me before I can walk away. “No, you won’t. We need time together. I won’t be around much,” he says sullenly.
Studying the brown and black swirls in the counter behind him, I reply, “I know.”
My gaze then slides up to his, but he suddenly looks past me, avoiding my eyes. He almost whispers, “Baby, I just… I just want to know that you still…want me.” That takes me off guard. Why would he think that I don’t?
Finn doesn’t meet my eyes and I watch his twitching jaw as I formulate a response. “Finn, I do want you. I’m not rejecting you or turning you down. I just want to spend time with you doing other things, too.”
He nods and slides his eyes to mine. “Me, too, Becks.”
“Why would you think that I don’t want you?”
Uncomfortable, he
swallows hard and looks away from me again. I reach up and steer his face so that he has to look at me, the same way he did to me at his mom’s in the foyer. “Finn?” I ask more firmly this time.
His eyes finally drop down to mine. “Because…people and relationships change.”
I vigorously shake my head. I hold his face in both of my hands. “Don’t ever think that of me, Finn. I’ll always want you. Always. I only want to enjoy all aspects of us, not just sex. I don’t want you to just see me as…” I don’t even want to repeat what Morgan said. Not because I’m a prude, but because I think it might be an accurate assessment.
“As what?”
“As…” I sigh and this time, his eyes pierce through me, demanding an answer. I cringe. Should I tell him how I really feel? I want him to give me the same courtesy, so I should do the same for him. “As only a place to put your dick,” I utter quickly, avoiding the creative term she used, now wishing that I hadn’t said anything at all. His brown eyes fly over my face, as if he’s panicking.
Way to go, Beckett.
Wincing, he shakes his head and emphatically says, “Becks, I don’t.”
I glance away from his intense stare. “It seems like it. I know you need me, but I…” Why did I open my huge, gigantic mouth? He’s upset and I’m being the cozy and the dick now.
“Becks.” Finn pulls my face back to his. “Don’t ever think like that. I’m not using you for sex. I just need to be with you more and sex is the closest way for us to connect. I know I’m not doing a great job of talking about how I feel, but I want us to be…closer.” He sighs and runs a hand back and forth through his hair, the sunlight from the gigantic windows dancing throughout the glowing strands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to come to that conclusion.”
I move closer to him and wind my arms around his waist. Without hesitation, he wraps his arms tightly around me and rests his cheek on the top of my head.
We stand there for a few minutes, both of us silent. I listen to him steadily breathe over me as I inhale his spicy scent. It calms me and helps me to focus on the task at hand.
Daring the Wild Sparks Page 12
