Rod snaps his fingers. “Oh. Your last name! Beckett! Right! I thought it was for the beer!” He laughs and shakes his head. Morgan and I stare at him; my expression more of amusement, Morgan’s…not so much.
Morgan frowns. “Seriously, Rod? It never even occurred to you that it would be because of her last name?”
“No. That’s why I thought he gave her the key necklace. Their emblem?” he says pointing to the charm laying against my chest. Morgan looks over at my necklace in bemusement.
He laughs. “Who’s the dumbass now, Mortgage?”
She closes her eyes. “You still are, Ass Rod.”
Rod asks, “Does he even know that your real name is Hadley?” I would think he was joking, but his face is dead serious. Morgan and I gape at him. He’s unbelievable. He rolls his eyes and asks another question instead, “Does he ever call you Hadley?”
“No. Not since he started calling me Becks after a couple weeks together,” I respond, not sure why I even did since he’s again watching Finn and disregarding me. I raise my eyebrows at the sight of him ogling my boyfriend.
Morgan turns her back to Rod. “Ignore him. So, what are you guys going to do tonight, as if I really need to ask?” Morgan wiggles an eyebrow and I glance over her shoulder at Rod. That’s not something I want to discuss in front of him, and not because he’s a guy. It’s because it’s Rod. Although Rod claims he’s straight, I know he has some kind of guy crush on Finn. It’s weird.
My gaze slides to Morgan. “Probably just knit.” I bite my lip, but end up laughing.
Rod’s eyes leave Finn and rest on my face. “Is that code for fucking?” My mouth and eyes fly wide open. “Sorry, Hadders. I really need to sign that waiver.” He rolls his eyes and throws his arms out to his side. “Is that code for having sexual intercourse?” he exasperatedly corrects himself. Morgan and I burst out laughing.
Finn drops my hand and before I am able to look to see where he’s going, his arms enclose my waist from behind and he hugs me against him. “Who are you having sexual intercourse with, Rod? Do you have a new boyfriend?” Finn asks, his chin resting against my temple. His stubble brushes against my skin and I can feel his accompanying smile. His rich voice reverberates against me, making my temperature rise and my knees to feel unsteady.
Rod gapes at us in dismay. “Damn it, Wilder! I’m not gay!” He then glances to people around us. “Why in the hell does everyone think that?”
Morgan retorts, “Maybe it’s the neon sign hanging above your head that screams louder than an old lady winning at Bingo.”
Rod widens his eyes at her. “I love women, just not you!”
I clench my fingers around Finn’s, stroking his skin. Content, I press my back closer into his chest and take a deep breath. He moves his thumbs up and he sneakily skims underneath my breasts through my T-shirt, shocking me. I hold his hands tighter to me and rub his fingers more heatedly. I can feel his groan echoing throughout my body. He rests his forehead against the top of my head and I feel his breath quicken against my neck.
“What’s the matter, Finn? You won the race!” Rod exclaims. “You look like you lost your best friend!”
“Shut up, Rod.” Morgan answers for him when he doesn’t move his head from mine. Finn gasps as I reach my right hand behind me and clutch his hip through the leather.
Morgan again is consulting her phone. “I need to go, Hadley.” Her eyes travel above my head and then she quickly looks to my face again. She whispers, “You need to get him home.” I bite the inside of my cheek and give a slight nod. She mouths, “After you screw, talk!” I contrarily roll my eyes at her. She turns away and pushes Rod as she walks by him. “Later, Nimrod.”
Rod claps his hands together. “So, what do you guys want to do now? We could go get some pizza or ice cream. Maybe both?” Rod asks, eyeing us hopefully. Finn lifts his head from mine. I guess he must be hungry.
“Rod, does it honestly look like I want food right now?” Finn inquires, his husky voice filled with frustration as he pushes my hips against him, most likely to hide his arousal as much as he can from people around us. The leather he’s wearing seems to be restraining him somewhat, but not enough. I feel guilty. He warned me earlier that I was lighting his fire. Now, he can’t even move away from me. This is not how I wanted the world to see that he’s mine. He has Finnatic eyes all over him.
“Oh, come on, Finn! Now you’re in a bitchy mood! What is with all of my friends today?” Rod’s eyes flick from me to Finn. “Oh…I get it.” He walks closer to us. “Wilder needs to get laid!” Rod laughs and snorts. “His eyes are screaming for you to fu—”
Finn reaches over and clutches Rod’s shirt and tugs him closer still. “Will you shut the hell up? I don’t want people to hear you,” Finn growls. He drops his hand from Rod’s shirt, the other hand from my hip and he steps back. That’s different. Finn is always smiles in public. He has a fun, public persona to maintain.
I turn around and look up at him. “Let’s go home.”
He shakes his head and peers down at me. There’s a look in his eye that worries me.
“Let’s go over there.” He indicates with his chin to some white storage sheds outside of the track. He grabs my hand and walks us through the dwindling crowd. I look back at Rod and shrug my shoulders. A few women try to chat Finn up as we walk, but surprisingly he politely declines. He never does that. He usually welcomes any opportunity to flirt. He stops us only once to give a little boy an autograph.
We walk over the track and up a small hill leading up to the sheds. There are still people milling around, but not like the hot mess we were just in, and even that is beginning to thin out. Finn leads me behind a shed. He releases my hand as he leans his back and a foot against the wall, while I stand a few feet in front of him, suddenly nervous at what he might say.
He says, “I can’t go home with you tonight. I need to wrap up a few things here and then go to my apartment.” The muscles in his jaw tense sexily. “I have to work tonight.”
Irritated, I ask, “Work tonight? You don’t usually have to anchor Saturday nights. We had plans, Finn!” Just sitting at home, but still. We only really see each other on the weekends.
“I know. I’m sorry. Tony’s wife went into labor before the race, so he can’t work tonight. I have to wrap up here, go home, take a shower, and then go to the station early.” He reaches for my hand and pulls me to him. His deep brown eyes bore into my green. “Stay with me tonight, baby.”
“Morgan, Ivan and I are going with Rod to the kite festival in the morning.”
“Kite festival? Shit. I forgot.” He looks away and his jaw flexes again, his late-afternoon beard rippling delectably over his lightly bronzed skin. What’s he thinking?
He wearily sighs. “I’ll come over tonight. It’ll just be late when I get there.” I’m a jerk.
“No, I’ll come over. I’ll just have to leave early in the morning.”
“I don’t care whose bed we’re in.” He pushes off of the wall, leans down and whispers in my ear, wrapping his fingers around the nape of my neck. “I need you with me tonight, Becks.” He slowly pulls away and tilts his head, staring intently into my eyes.
I reach up and run my fingers through the scruff on his jaw. “I do, too. I miss you.” I want him with me all the time. Is that being too clingy?
He strokes my cheek. “I miss you, too. So much.” His eyes search mine. “We need to talk about that.” My heart stops as I stare at him, unblinking. Talk about what? Has he changed his mind about us getting married?
I dreamily nod my head. “Yes, we do need to talk.”
“Not until after I show you how much I’ve missed you. I don’t know how I’m going to make it through work. I’m going to be thinking about us being together every second.” So will I.
“I’ll be waiting for you in your bed.” I smile as his lips slide into an astounding grin. He digs his fingers up around my ponytail and he passionately kisses me, which stuns me. He never i
nitiates kisses with me in front of his fans. If I kiss him, he’ll give me a quick kiss in return, but he never starts them when there are people watching us, and definitely not at this level of intensity. I move my hands to his chest and run my fingers along the leather before gently pushing him away.
I giggle. “I don’t want to overexcite you again.”
He smiles impishly. “Too late. I’ve been there all week.” Me, too.
I playfully pout. “I really wanted to take this suit off of you later.” I temptingly tug down the zipper until I see he’s wearing a black T-shirt with BVB in bold letters for one of his favorite bands, Black Veil Brides. I put my fingers on his shirt and scrunch the material beneath my fingers, feeling his chest hair underneath. His breathing falters and he reaches up to stop my hand.
“That can absolutely be arranged.” He leans down and kisses me again, his hand holding onto mine. With his other hand, he hauls me against him as his tongue lunges into my mouth. What is he doing? His worshippers are still watching. I faintly hear a noise and a man clears his throat, interrupting us. I break our kiss and look over to the sound.
“Jesus, you two,” Rod complains. “I was wondering what you were doing, you were gone so long. Here, you’re hiding out behind a crypt making a baby.” I giggle and glance up at Finn, who is glaring at Rod. Shit.
“Funny,” Finn gripes and stands straight, but doesn’t let go of me.
Rod says, “When I said that you needed to get laid, I meant for you to do it at home.” I roll my eyes and step away from Finn, but he wrenches me back to him. What the hell is going on with him? He seemed to be fine earlier. Rod’s eyes drift over me in uncertainty. “Ready?”
“Ready for what?” Finn asks with an edge to his sexy voice, his hand firmly holding onto my waist.
I answer Rod. “Not really, but I suppose I do need to let Finn get ready for work.”
Finn probes, “Where are you going?” I look up at him and his brown eyes are glittering with a myriad of thoughts, yet I have no idea what’s going through his head.
“Rod’s taking me home. I rode here with Morgan. Rod said he’d take me home because she wasn’t staying very long after the race was over.” Finn drags his eyes over to Rod and his jaw tightens as he clenches his teeth.
Finn offers, “Ricky can take you home.” If I’m not mistaken, he actually sounds annoyed.
“Why?” I’m confused. I don’t understand his sudden reluctance to me riding with Rod. “Rod’s right here. Ricky has to take your bike to his house and my apartment is out of the way for him.” Finn stores his dirt bike in Ricky’s garage since they both ride and Finn doesn’t have anywhere else to keep it.
“What’s wrong, Wilder? You think I’m a bad driver? I’ll have you know that although the North Carolina signs test was a bitch, I passed my written test on the third try and my driving test on the second. I’m golden.” Not the best thing to say, Rod.
“I’ll take you home.” Finn tells me, not bothering to give Rod a response.
“What? No. Go home and take a shower. I’ll see you tonight.”
Finn argues, “It’ll be alright. I just can’t go up with you. I’ll drop you off and head home.”
“No you won’t. Stop.” I caress his jaw as he stares at me, my fingers moving over his stubble. There is definitely something going on with Finn. I can see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice and feel it in his hands. He’s so tense and that’s not like him. What did I do? Is he mad at me? Did I embarrass him in front of his fans or something?
“Wilder, why don’t you just take her home with you?” Rod questions as if we’re being oblivious to the obvious solution.
“No,” we both mutter at the same time. There’s no way Finn would make it to work if we’re together, and we both know it.
“Okay…” Rod replies slowly, scrunching his face in bewilderment. He makes a swooping motion with his arms towards the parking lot. “Then let’s go. I have to make a pit stop.”
I reach up and wind my arms around Finn’s neck to hug him goodbye. He folds his around my body and hugs me back, lifting me off of the ground. I’m instantly hit with his cologne from his opened suit. It complements his scent perfectly. I bury my face against his chest and inhale, which is both a good and bad thing. Good, because I could bottle the smell and carry it with me. Bad, because now it’s too long to wait for tonight when he’s wearing nothing, but the cologne.
Finn sets me down and I angle my head up to give him a kiss, but he beats me to it. He takes the sides of my head in his hands and kisses me, his tongue again in my mouth before I open it myself. Rod is standing right behind me. This is past awkward. Why is Finn doing this? I try to pull away from him, but he doesn’t let me, just like with our hands earlier. Why is he suddenly so possessive? He’s never been jealous before, especially of Greg Rodwell.
I push on his chest and he steps back. “What are you doing?” I quietly ask.
“What?” He looks at me and then in Rod’s direction. He’s truly jealous of Rod?
“What are you trying to prove?” I hear Finnatics yelling his name off in a distance, not to mention the protests of Rod’s bladder, and I know my time with Finn is extremely limited.
His dark eyes fall to mine. “I don’t have anything to prove. I just want to kiss you.”
“You’re never like this, Finn.”
“Maybe I should be.” That’s a switch. I gaze at him suspiciously before I step forward and give him a quick kiss on his full lips.
“Behave,” I say into his ear.
“Never,” he swiftly husks into mine. He links his fingers with mine and I smile at him as I let go of them. Turning, I walk through the ankle-high grass over to Rod.
“Let’s go, chickadee.” He slings his arm around my shoulders and pulls me forward. I glance back at Finn, who has his hands on his hips and a look in his eyes that I’ve never seen before.
Yes. Tonight we really do need to talk.
CHAPTER 3
“Sorry.”
“For?”
“This: What the fuck is wrong with your boyfriend, Hadders?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I mumble noncommittally, staring out my side window at the streaming scenery of trees and sloping hillsides as we head north on I-95 in Rod’s massive, gray Chevy truck. I don’t even know what’s wrong with my boyfriend; therefore, I can’t even begin to explain it to someone else, let alone Rod.
Unexpectedly, Rod pounds his hand on the steering wheel, compelling me to jump for the second time today. I swiftly look away from the window and over to his face, while he glances from the road to me. He says, “He was acting like one of those crazy sons of bitches that you see on an episode of Hoarders. You know, the one who can’t let go of an old sock because their dog gave birth on it.”
“That’s the second time today you called Finn a son of a bitch.”
“I did, but the first time I called Wilder a son of a bitch it was a compliment.” I gape at him and his mouth drops open. “What? It was!” Rod throws a hand up in exasperation. “I said the bastard was good-looking!”
“And now you’re calling him a bastard, not to mention you called me an old sock.”
He snickers. “Oh, yeah. You’re a short, old sock.”
My forehead wrinkles and I eye him disdainfully. “Thanks a lot, jackass.” He crazily giggles until we lapse into silence for nearly half a minute.
Precipitously, he looks rapidly from the road, over to me, out to the road and then back to me again. “Wilder didn’t want me taking you home. Why? It’s not because of my driving. What’s the real reason?” I’m sure his driving is, in fact, truly part of the reason for Finn’s lack of enthusiasm of my riding home with Rod.
“I don’t know. He didn’t tell me.”
“Well, something was bothering him besides…” He rolls his eyes. “Sorry…his desperate need to fuck you.”
“Gregory.” Despite the sudden thrill rushing through my body at the thought of ma
king love to Finn, I sigh again and my eyes drift from the view to focus on Rod’s face. Like Finn, he has brown eyes, but Finn’s are darker, more expressive, and absolutely spellbinding. When I stare into them, I can almost see his entire soul. Almost. I know there’s a part of Finn that even I can’t get to, a fragment that he keeps locked tight from the world.
Rod’s brown eyes, on the other hand, are habitually filled with mischief and amusement. From his clean-shaven face to his dimples, Greg Rodwell really is, himself, a handsome son of a bitch. Not of the same caliber as my Finn, but with his wholesome looks and mirthful personality, Rod really would be a catch for some fortunate woman.
“I don’t think it was that conspicuous,” I defend my boyfriend. “Still, he’s never acted like that before. He is always touchy-feely with me when we’re alone or just with our friends, but never to that degree in public.” Finn is normally much more reserved with me in front of people, especially Finnatics. If we’re ever out in public together at all, he’ll fleetingly hold my hand if nobody’s looking. If anyone does recognize me from having hung out with Finn at another time, they probably assume I’m his assistant or a desperate groupie. There was one time, after we first started dating, when we made out at a high school baseball game. Sitting high up on the bleachers in the corner, we both wore sunglasses and baseball caps, so he wouldn’t be easily identified. He was supposed to be watching the game and taking notes for his report, yet he couldn’t keep his lips to himself.
I add, “Plus, he’s usually more fun-loving and friendlier around his Finnatics than he was at the race, spending as much time as he can with strangers, though not today. Today was… atypical.”
He counters, “Well, it was pretty noticeable.” His eyes glide over my face before he looks back to the road ahead.
I shrug my shoulders and stare out the windshield, clasping my hands together in my lap. “I think, too, it was because he was just tired and irritable. He had a long day and it’s still not over yet since he has to work later.”
Chasing the Wild Sparks Page 3
