She crosses her arms and stares at me strangely, making me feel super awkward. “Really? How do you think Finn feels about that?” What’s it any of her business?
“He’s fine with it. He knows Rod isn’t interested in me more than as a friend. We all hang out. It’s cool.” She’s kind of bitchier than I pictured her to be. Finn is friends with her?
“I think it bothers him more than he lets on.” I suspiciously blink at her. Has he said something to her?
“What? He would’ve told me if it does.” I hope.
She glances over my shoulder and abstractly nods at me. “Okay. If you say so. Go ahead and practice for a few minutes. We’ll go to bat after that.”
I perplexedly stare at her, but she’s still eyeing whatever is rousing her interest behind me. Wanting to get away from the bizarre vibe she’s giving me, I walk over to Rod and Crick. “Hey, guys.”
Crick tersely nods and Rod throws his glove down and scoops me up, wiggling me around like a fish, taking me by surprise. “Thank God you’re here! Crick is bending me over!”
“Put me down, Rod. He’s what?” He sets me back down and ruffles my hair before freezing.
His face falls when he realizes what he had said. “Oh, shit. That came out totally wrong. Fuck me.” I glance over at Crick whose face is beet red.
Noticing as well, Rod laughs and shrugs. “Sorry, Crunk.”
I apologetically smile at Crick and smack Rod on the arm. “Will you not call him that?”
Looking genuinely confounded, he asks, “What? He’s fine with it. He doesn’t care.”
“You’ve worked with him a week and you already are calling him names.”
He rolls his eyes and smacks me in return. “My name went from Greg to Rod in 3.2 seconds, so his can, too.”
I turn as to not have Crick overhear me. Quietly, I say, “I’ve barely seen him all week.”
“That’s because you’ve been hiding for the past two days.”
“That probably would explain it.”
I notice Crick talking to Grant. Rod begins tossing the ball up in the air, catching it with his gloveless hands and asking, “How’d dress shopping and beach hopping go?”
I step back so I don’t get conked in the head. “Good. I got a dress and shoes.”
After catching the ball, he sticks his bottom lip out in an overstated pout. “No bikini? Well, shit. What kind of wedding is this going to be?”
“Not that kind.” I edge close to him again and grab his arm before he can throw the ball up again. “Oh, FYI: we’re dating.”
He waves his finger between us. “You and me?”
I nod and laugh. “Yes. Cara thinks we’re having a covert affair.”
He raises his eyebrows in genuine astonishment. “Really? Did she see us dance, too?”
“No. She said we have ‘mad chemistry.’”
“Oh. I failed chemistry. I couldn’t draw a straight line.” He suddenly snorts. “Did you tell her what a fantastic fuck I am?”
I roll my eyes. “No, but I did tell her about your purse and how it’s a mood killer.”
He scowls and stomps his foot, which makes me burst out laughing at how ridiculous Rod is. “It wasn’t a damn purse! It was a satchel and I carried it because I was bringing my extra clothes to work. Jesus!”
I laugh even louder at the pained look on his face and wheeze, “You said it had to match your shoes!”
He swings his arm and hits his thigh. “So now it’s a crime for me to look good? I dress better than that other fucker you bang!”
“Maybe, but he doesn’t have to wear any clothes to look good.”
“Oh, snap, you bitch!” He shoves me and I snort, grabbing his arm so I don’t fall down laughing. Damn him! He laughs with me and as I look up, I happen to see Cara near first base skeptically watching us.
I try to be stealth turning back to Rod. “Don’t look, but we have an audience.”
Letting go of his arm, I step back and he bends to pick his glove up off the ground, asking, “Who? Cara?”
“Yep.”
Keeping his back to Cara, he stares out at the rest of our coworkers still practicing. “Would she get suspicious if I Frenched you?”
“Probably just a smidge.”
He glances down at me. “I’ll even make it really sloppy and lick all over your lips. It’ll be a kiss that’ll make you forget about old whatshisname.”
“I’m about to puke into your satchel.”
“Score!”
I walk down the quiet hallway to my apartment. The only neighbor I ever see here on the top floor is the one directly across from me, Linda, a nurse who works various shifts at the Virginia Commonwealth University Medical Center— the same one I used to work at. Linda and I share a drink now and then, and make sure each other’s packages are picked up when the other isn’t home. Rod is convinced she’s a serial killing vampire because she’s hardly ever seen during the day. Once when Rod and Morgan were visiting me, we saw Linda in the hall as we were leaving to go get dinner. She was wearing scrubs, so to support his outlandish theory, Rod instantly surmised she works in a hospital to both feed her “appetite” and to cover the many deaths she leaves in her hungry wake. Then he wondered aloud if she has access to the hospital’s blood bank for catered vampire events. That had earned him a nipple twist from Morgan.
After a take a shower, I put on a pair of black gaucho pants and a white, V-neck top. Nothing elaborate and no skirt or dress, since I was told that’s all I wear around my purported sex-starved boyfriend.
I leave my hair down and put on some makeup. I had told Sparks I’d meet him at his apartment so we can ride together, seeing as I’m staying with him tonight. I’d really rather just skip dinner. Even though it’s still not a good time for me, physically and emotionally, I want Finn so damn much. Though, I haven’t come to terms about my feelings yet, I don’t even care. I have a primal need for his hard body, the sharp urge hitting me after my shower. Inevitably, when I’m at my most repulsive is when I want sex with him the most. That’s so twisted. I think that’s why he doesn’t mind having sex during my period. My raging hormones certainly do work in his favor.
Walking up his front steps, I catch his neighbor Lily on the porch and she waves. I give her a small wave in return, feeling immediately humiliated, thinking about her hearing Finn and me having sex. She has to think I’m a whore or something.
I hurriedly walk through the front door to his quiet apartment, relieved to be out of her scrutiny. I look around the kitchen and living room, but he’s not here. Where’s he at? His car was out front. If he went to Mass, he should be back by now.
“Sparks?” Nothing. I go through his living room to the hall leading to his bedroom. His door is halfway open. I slowly push the door open, tapping on it as I do, not wanting to scare the hell out of him.
His room is also empty. Hearing noise in the bathroom, I step back into the hallway and now notice the door is closed. Wow. I missed that one. I lightly knock on the door. “Baby, I’m here.”
He answers with a garbled, “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay.” I go back out to the living room, thinking it’s better to stay away from his bedroom, having learned that lesson from the morning of the kite festival. The only difference this time is we’ll never make it to dinner because I’ll rip his clothes off.
“Hey.”
I whirl around to see Sparks in just a towel. Well, look there. I don’t even have to rip his clothes off since it’s already done for me. Walking towards me, he runs his fingers through his wet hair, roughing it up. Fuck, I want to lick every single drop of water glistening on his skin. “I just got home. The dare ran over longer than I had expected.”
I back away from him. “That’s okay. Just go get dressed so we can go.”
He abruptly stops and frowns. “What’s wrong?” What’s wrong? Absolutely nothing if we didn’t have to be somewhere. Sparks’ hair is deliciously wet and his damp body is sending
mine into a hypersexual fit. How can I resist him? I greatly want to strip that towel off him, not giving a fuck about my period or birth control.
Fretfully tucking hair behind my ears, I reply, “Nothing. We’re going to be late.”
Finn gives me a cross between a perplexed look and an annoyed one. “I can’t give you a kiss?”
I quickly inhale. “Um, sure.” I step over to him, getting on my tiptoes as he bends to meet me, giving him a quick peck before hastily escaping to the kitchen. I’m seriously struggling. I move behind a chair, grabbing onto it as both a shield, as well as a support to calm my shaky knees and resolve.
He watches me with uncertainty. “What did I do? I brushed my teeth. If you didn’t want to kiss me, you could’ve told me.” He sounds hurt, but I can’t tell him what’s bothering me because he’ll only be too happy to keep us here.
“I did want to. We’re just running behind.”
Again, he runs his hand through his wet hair, flicking tiny drops of water around him. I look away and he sighs. “Okay. I’ll get dressed.”
He turns and walks down the hall. I glance up to see him looking over his shoulder at me before going into his room. I finally release the breath I was holding in a whoosh.
This is going to be a rough dinner.
CHAPTER 8
Finn pulls my car into the restaurant parking lot and I immediately jump out, barely waiting for him to turn off the ignition. The tension in the car is unbearable, not having said a word to each other for the seven-minute trip.
Getting out of the car, I glance at him as I smooth my blouse. Sparks looks absolutely divine in a long-sleeve, white dress shirt with the top buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. My gaze falls to his black pants and I smile. He dressed to match me. Even if it was inadvertent, I want to nail him in the backseat of my car right here in the parking lot.
Settle down, Beckett!
As he stands waiting for me, I notice he shifts his fervent gaze from me to a nearby tree. I feel so bad for not telling him what my problem is, but I couldn’t. He would’ve taken full advantage of the situation and I would’ve undoubtedly allowed him to.
When I reach him, I hold my hand out and he glances down at it, yet doesn’t take it. Letting my arm fall to my side, I pivot to face him. “What’s going on, Sparks?” Not that I don’t already know.
His brown eyes narrow and drag over my face. “I’m wondering the same thing about you. You’re acting weird. Did I do something?” He thinks the way I’m acting is his fault? Now I feel even worse. “Are you not feeling up to being here tonight? If not, we can go home right now.”
Unconsciously, I glance down to his lips and answer, “I’m fine.” Fine. Sure. I want to unzip his pants and bring him to life right here between these two cars. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Don’t lie to me, Becks. There’s something going on with you.” His voice is harder, forcing me to swiftly look up to see the flash in his unblinking glare. Shit. It feels as if he can see straight through me.
I shakily sigh. “I… I’ve missed you. I’d rather be snuggling with you on the couch than to be here. Okay?”
As if a dark cloud has passed, his face brightens and a crooked smile threatens his lips. “Let’s go home then.” No, I can’t let him do that, but I want him to…
“I need to be here for Morgan. You and I will be alone in a little while.”
He protests, “It’s not soon enough.”
I try holding out my hand again. “Come on, Sparks. We can do this.”
This time, he does take my hand and as I turn to walk to the restaurant, he says, “Wait.” Turning back to look at him, he tugs my hand, hauling me to him and when I look up, his lips descend to mine. I eagerly reciprocate; our hunger for each other greater than any food they serve here, no doubt. Moving my hand to his chest, I find his key in his open collar and hold it, resting my fingers against his skin and feeling his thundering heart.
Between kisses, he appeals, “Baby, I want to go home.”
Releasing his necklace, I stroke his cheek. “Me, too. Let’s go get this over with so we can.”
Amazingly, I’m able to not give in to him. I grab his hand and pull him to the restaurant. As he lets me tow him, he sighs and thrusts his hand into his hair, making it messier and so much harder to resist staring at him.
When not checking out Finn, the hostess takes us to Morgan and Ivan’s table, and they smile as we approach. I take a seat across from Morgan and she leans forward with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “I was just telling Ivan about your dress.”
I glance at Ivan and he grins. Panicked, I look to her and whimper, “Oh no. You didn’t! Morgan…!”
“Yep! Check your woman out, Finn.” She hands him her phone, but I’m quicker, snatching it from him, and I speedily figure out how to delete the picture.
Smiling at my success, I offer her phone back to her. “Gone.”
“Hadley!” Morgan whines.
Finn complains with a frown. “I don’t get to see it?”
“Nope.”
When the waitress asks what we’d like to drink, Finn and Ivan each order a Scotch. It’s a good thing we brought my car since I can’t drive his. I order lemonade to keep Morgan company and to stay sober. Sparks is already starting the hard shit. I hope he isn’t planning on getting completely wasted or he’ll be sleeping on the couch, or the floor. Wherever he lands.
Morgan says to Finn, “You’ll want to see the dress. There’s hardly any material to it.”
He looks at me rather dubiously. “Really? I don’t believe that. You won’t usually wear anything too revealing.” I did at the club! He sure doesn’t complain about the lacy things I wear for him, either.
Morgan continues, “Oh, she didn’t want to, but I threatened her that she’ll be stuck dancing with Shane and Rod all night. Two of her favorite hunks.” She laughs and I roll my eyes. Finn grimaces at her statement and glances toward the bar, probably wondering where his alcoholic crutch is.
Ivan dissents, “Shane isn’t that bad. You make it sound like he’s some sort of beast. He’s actually a nice guy and fun to be around. He likes Hadley.” My eyes fearfully widen and he smiles. “He says nice things about you. So go easy on him.”
We’re interrupted when the waitress brings our drinks and takes our orders. Once she leaves, I take a sip of my lemonade. “Nice is not a word that comes to mind when I think of Shane. I’ll have to do enough dancing with him for the bridal dances. I don’t have a problem dancing with Rod since he’s my regular dance partner.”
Morgan shakes her head. “But with that dress you’ll be wearing, you might want to keep it to only slow dancing with Rod. No bending backwards or he’ll get an eyeful.”
“Yeah. You won’t be bending over for Rod or I’ll be snapping his neck,” Sparks grumbles into his glass.
I huff, “I certainly won’t be flashing anyone there.”
Setting down his glass, Sparks inclines his head to mine, whispering, “Except for me.” His voice and his cologne, even his hair, are driving me insane with desire for him.
Morgan laughs and I try to focus on her instead of my smoking hot boyfriend. “Finn, if you can’t make it to our wedding, I will be sure to get plenty of pictures of her wearing it for you.”
He nods as he caresses his tumbler of Scotch. “Definitely.” Unexpectedly, he leans down, angling his head, and playfully tries to bite my neck. I giggle and push him away; though not wanting to since his warm lips feel so damn good on my skin. When I sit up, he leans in again, but instead, whispers in my ear, “I want to see what’s under your dress more.” Oh, shit. I’m not going to make it the short drive home, let alone the rest of dinner. I want to sneak him into the restroom and have loud sex with him. I tersely inhale and take a drink of my lemonade as he moves away.
Morgan bounces in her chair. “I can’t wait for the wedding! We got so much taken care of today. The hotel’s ballroom is going to be totally gorgeous de
corated in blue and silver. They’re even providing matchbooks with our names on them for the favors, but we’re also adding our own. I found a place that personalizes shot glasses with our names and date. Isn’t that so cute?”
I smile and impassively nod. “I love it.” I nudge Sparks and my hand brushes his, making me practically splutter, “Wouldn’t that be cool to get a shot glass as a wedding favor?” He generically nods as he lifts his drink, monotonously replying, “Awesome.”
Unexpectedly, he captures my hand and sweeps it away to the inside of his upper thigh, leaving my hand dangerously close to what I want, deliberately teasing me.
Ivan laughs. “It’s not like we can’t drink out of the shot glasses anyway. They’ll be stored in a cabinet or a shelf and we won’t be allowed to touch them ever again.”
Morgan speedily twists in her seat so she can look at him. “I thought you said you liked the shot glasses!”
He shrugs. “I do, but they’re not very useful.”
Finn says, “I’ll remember to bring my own then.” He plays with my fingers, inching them temptingly closer, but then away. Why is he making this so much worse? Is it payback for making him sit through this dinner?
Picking up her drink, Morgan shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Men. They just don’t get it.”
I mutter, “Nope.” Not a chance if my boyfriend enjoys teasing his hormonal girlfriend! This time when Finn brings my fingers back up, I push against his hand, taking him by surprise because his hand slackens and I’m able to graze him between his legs. Feeling how solid he is, I want to touch more, but he promptly moves my hand away.
What? Finn doesn’t like being teased?
Morgan excitedly exclaims, “The beach is going to be perfect! I’ve always wanted to get married there. What about you, Hadley?” Why is she asking me this right in front of Sparks? It’s like she’s trying to make this awkward for us. At least he’s still holding my hand.
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