Finn gently raises my pink shirt and my coworkers peer down at my bare stomach. I would try to hide, but the pain is too much to be modest.
He says, “No, but you have a big red spot that’s already turning purple. I’m taking you to the hospital now.”
“No!”
Rod hovers at my knees. “Hadders, listen to Wilder. This is all my fault and if something happens to you because of it, I’ll hate myself. The hospital is just three or four blocks away.”
Finn squeezes my hand tighter. “You could have internal injuries or a broken rib. We’re going.” He doesn’t sound like he’s open to negotiations, but I try anyway.
“I’m fine.” I slowly sit up, but the pain starkly radiates and I fall back into a heap. Before I can argue more, Finn carefully lifts me from the ground and cradles me against him. I lay my head against his dark blue T-shirted shoulder and hold my stomach as he carries me to his car.
He asks, “Do you want to lie down or are you okay sitting up?”
“I can sit up. I’m going to get your car dirty.” I sniff as he pulls his key out of his pocket and unlocks the doors.
“Becks, I don’t care.” Opening the passenger door, he slowly lowers me into the seat. He puts my seatbelt on and I slump forward.
He gets in and starts the car, rapidly shifting gears and peeling out of the parking lot.
The pain subsides slightly when I foresee him crashing into someone. “Finn, slow down! I’m not dying.”
“Don’t worry about my driving.” He makes a sharp turn and I screech. “Sorry.”
I glare at his handsome profile, but he doesn’t turn to look at me. “You’re going to get pulled over!”
He laughs, but doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “My best friend is a cop and I know a ton of his coworkers. I’ll get out of it.”
“You’re a cocky bastard.”
He smoothly downshifts and puts his turn signal on before looking at me with a subtle smirk. “Yep.”
“I’m not that hurt. Just take me home.”
“Nope.”
Finn pulls into the hospital’s emergency room parking lot and jumps out of the car as I sluggishly open my door. Before I can get out, he lunges, scooping me up before I can try to get out myself. Shoving the door closed with his foot, he warns, “Don’t you dare, Becks.”
I irritably scoff, “I can walk.”
“Not if you have internal bleeding you can’t.”
“It’s just a bruise.”
“Humor me then.”
Finn carries me into the ER’s waiting room and up to the desk, telling them what happened. Thinking that we’ll be waiting awhile, I tell him to put me down, but instead, the receptionist speaks to a nurse who directs us to a small room with a gurney. When I broke my wrist, I waited forever. Go figure.
When we go into the room, Finn gently places me on the bed. The blonde nurse asks what happened to me as she briefly assesses my injury. Finn takes a seat across from me, looking extremely nervous.
She grabs a cuff and takes my blood pressure. “Are you pregnant, honey?”
I glance at Finn and his eyes widen in apparent horror. Does he think I’m lying to him? I would never lie about that. It’s not something I could hide for long anyway.
I look back at the nurse. “No.”
“Is there any chance that you could be?”
“No. I just had my period.”
“Most likely, the doctor will order a CAT scan. That’s why I’m asking.” She tears the cuff off and the loud, scratching sound rips through my jumbled mind. “Your blood pressure is good, so that’s a positive sign of no bleeding. I’ll go get the doctor.”
When she leaves, I turn and give Finn a little smile. “Hi. Have we met?”
He leans forward, putting his forearms on his legs and clasping his hands together as his forehead wrinkles. “What?”
“We met here in this hospital. Out there. Or don’t you remember?”
He also held me prisoner here in my nightmare.
“Oh. I wasn’t thinking of that.”
I quietly ask, “Are you okay?”
He shakes his head and dubiously laughs. “Why are you asking me that?”
“Because you look sick, Sparks.”
“I’m worried about you. I’d rather it be me in here than you.”
“Not me because then I’d be worried.”
He looks down at the floor and takes a deep breath. Without looking back up at me, he asks, “Why were you at shortstop, Becks, when I specifically said you weren’t playing there?”
I scowl at him even though he doesn’t see me. “Why does it matter now? I’m not pregnant.”
He swiftly glances up. “So? You still got hurt.”
“I can get hurt tripping on the sidewalk.”
“Becks.”
“What, Finn? I told you not to give me special treatment. It’s not fair to everyone else.”
He tartly frowns. “I’m not.”
“Oh, really? Would you be sitting here with Gloria if it were her instead of me?”
“I’d at least be in the waiting room.”
“So what makes me so different then?”
His frown becomes incredulous. “You’re really asking me that?”
“I guess I am, coach, since you say you don’t treat me any differently than any of your other players.”
He rolls his eyes. “Point taken.”
I smile. “So, you’re saying I am special?”
He bites his lip and says, “I’m saying maybe you were conked on the head and need a CAT scan there instead of your stomach.”
“I think you like me.”
“Somewhat.” He sits up, crossing his arms and putting an ankle over his knee. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not…pregnant.” There he goes again, nearly choking on the word.
I shrug. “I guess. More paperwork.” And a panicked boyfriend.
He irritably rolls his eyes. “That’s not what I mean. That was a hard hit.”
“Yeah. Rod has some swing, doesn’t he?”
“You weren’t paying attention as much as you should’ve been.”
I cock my head and grimace. “I was. I caught a couple, one in the stomach, but it was a catch.”
He glares at me, apparently not liking my jest. “When I got there, you were staring at the ground, obviously lost in thought. Why? What were you thinking about?”
Shrugging, I look at the glossy, beige floor. “Nothing. The ball just unexpectedly hit me. It happens.”
Not buying my excuse, he glances away from me, shaking his head. “Becks, the other night—”
The door opens, and a young, male doctor interrupts us, introducing himself as Dr. Koontz, and right away examines my stomach. “Does it hurt when I press here?”
“Not so much.”
“What about here?”
I grunt, “Yes.” From my peripheral, I see Finn shifting in his seat, and hear him sighing.
Dr. Koontz nods and says, “Well, I don’t think you have internal bleeding, but I want you to have a CT scan just to be sure. Did the nurse already ask if you’re pregnant?”
“She did. I’m not.”
“Okay. A nurse will come in and have you drink a contrast solution before you have the scan. I’ll have her get you started with that.” He smiles and leaves Finn and me sitting in silence, neither of us really wanting to talk about what happened Saturday night in the place we met three years ago.
After I drink the nasty, sour crap that makes me gag with every sip, I’m put through a big machine that rotates around me, while I hold my breath through several passes. Finn has to wait in the waiting room. It’s already been a few hours and I feel bad that he’s still here. He did the same thing when I broke my wrist, but I didn’t know he had stayed until I was all done getting my cast on. I felt so bad, but honored that he stayed for me.
Those same feelings flood me again now.
To wait for my results, I’m then wheeled into a
nother small room, where Finn is ushered in soon after. He gingerly stands beside the bed and when the orderly leaves, Finn moves to hang above me, putting his hands next to both sides of my head, staring me down… just like in my dream. Am I suddenly psychic? I feel the terror settling in my belly, beneath my bruises. Is he going to tell me I’m having a surgery to sterilize me? Is he going to call me a whore? Is he going to say he hates me?
I anxiously lick my lips and stutter, “W-what?”
His dark eyes fly over my face as I apprehensively gape at him. “I have to work tonight.”
Calmed to some degree, I quickly nod. “Okay. Thank you for staying with me.”
Finn’s uneasy smirk catches my attention. “Where else would I be, Becks?”
I want to look away from him, but I can’t. “I don’t know. Work. Home. Ricky’s. Anywhere but here.”
“I wouldn’t have brought you and just dropped you off.”
“Well, thank you anyway, coach.” I smile and his gaze drifts down to my lips, leaving me to stare at his eyelashes.
Without looking up, he says, “Uh-huh. How do you feel?”
“Sore, but better after the Tylenol.”
His eyes slowly come back up to mine as he nods. “Good. If you’re released soon, why don’t you stay at my place tonight?”
“I don’t have any clothes there.”
Finn succinctly frowns and a gloom passes over his face. “Oh. Right.”
Needing to change the subject, I blurt, “You missed Mass. I’m sorry.”
Shaking his head, he says, “Don’t worry about it. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you.”
“Even in a hospital?”
Finn summarily glances above my head and sighs before returning his gaze to me. “Even in a hospital. If I were still out of town, I would’ve come home.” He cautiously inches closer to me and I’m filled with both trepidation and anticipation. I’m afraid because of what happened Saturday night and then because of my dream.
Still leaning over me, he licks his lips, which makes me lick mine. Moving closer, his hot breath bathes my lips as his part, and my eyes flutter closed.
“Ms. Beckett?” I jump as Sparks promptly moves away, but grabbing my hand. A female doctor with graying, brown hair proclaims, “Your test results are fine. Your liver is okay, just a little bruised, along with a bruised diaphragm. I want you to refrain from softball for at least a week or until the pain subsides. I’ll give you something for the pain or if it’s not that persistent, take Tylenol. Get some rest, no heavy lifting and apply ice. I’ll give you aftercare instructions before your release. The nurse will get those together for you. Okay? Any questions?” I shake my head and she makes some notes on my chart before she leaves.
I look up at Finn. “See. I’m okay.”
He tries to be casual when he shrugs, but when he deeply inhales, it confirms how tense he actually was. “I feel better that you were checked out.”
“I can’t miss our first game, Sparks. I don’t want to do that to my team.”
His fingers stroke mine. “It’s a few weeks away. Don’t worry about the first game. I want you to get better. You need to rest when you get home.”
Smiling, I pull on his hand. “This time leaving the ER, I’m leaving with you.”
Finn’s responding smile is effortless. “This place does hold a special place in my heart.”
My smile widens and I timidly ask, “It does?”
His eyebrows tug together, but his smile remains. “Well, yeah. Doesn’t it for you?”
Successfully curbing a laugh, I reply, “Yes. Their ER beds are really comfy.”
He chuckles. “Is that right?”
I beam at his amused baby face. “It is.” Biting his lip, he teasingly rolls his eyes.
After the paperwork is all finished, Finn helps me get dressed, even helping me to put my sneakers on and tying them, too.
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’ pr
ofessional 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.”
Igniting the Wild Sparks Page 16
