“She’ll be pissed, but don’t you think she’ll be even madder at you for kissing that skank and lying about it? That’s why I’m only giving you a fucking month to grow some balls.”
“I can’t—”
“You’re seriously arguing with me when you should be grateful I’m not running to her with this?”
“I’ll just tell her the truth.”
“That’s noble of you, but you’re already on thin ice for the bridge stunt you pulled yesterday. I think this one last omission might be in your best interest, if you know what I mean. I don’t think she’ll forgive you for kissing Cara.”
“I don’t know if she would or not. I think she would. I didn’t mean to kiss her.”
“Hadley’s a very forgiving soul, but how much shit can one person take? You need to stop dicking around and put a ring on her finger!”
“I’m working on it!”
“A wedding ring, Finn. You’re torturing her! She wants to be married to you for some ridiculous reason. I’ve tried steering her away from you, but she’s stubborn. You are what she wants. She loves you! Don’t fuck it up! Make her happy! And while you’re at it, knock her up for Christ’s sake!”
“That’s between my girlfriend and me. Not you.”
So, that’s what Morgan has on me.
I look over my shoulder at the hotel. Was my answer to her proposal a knee-jerk reaction, too? Quite possibly. Maybe it would’ve been in my best interest to tell her yes, so Morgan doesn’t run her mouth to Becks sooner. Shit. Since I was in panic mode, I wasn’t thinking about Morgan when Becks was on her knee.
What’s going to happen now when Becks tells Morgan I turned her down? She had to have known Becks was doing this and she still gave me a month. Would Becks even be willing to accept my proposal? I doubt it. Will I be ready in three weeks to propose? No, I won’t be and I’m not going to get married with a damn gun to my head, as it seems. Fuck. I need to tell Becks about the kiss before Morgan decides to. Now. This isn’t the greatest time and I don’t want to start another fight with her after what just happened, but she needs to hear it from me, not Morgan. It’s imperative that I’m truthful. I want to be truthful. The kiss didn’t mean anything. I love Becks, not Cara. I just don’t know how it will play out. I suppose I’ll have to tell Cara not to come back to the softball team. No loss there, really. Ricky and I do all the coaching anyway.
Having given Becks enough time to herself, I reach for my shoes to put them on, and head for our room.
Stepping off the elevator, I go to room 713, but when I walk in, it’s quiet. Too quiet. I go past the bathroom and notice the counter is empty of her things. I hurriedly move to the other bedroom and her suitcase is gone. Looking to the coffee table, I see her key card. Shit! I shove my hands into my hair and spin around, searching the room in disbelief, as if she’s fucking hiding and I simply missed her.
Numbly, I gather the few things I had unpacked and throw them into my suitcase. I hurriedly check out and call Becks on my way to the parking lot. No answer. I leave her a message telling her that I need to talk to her now. I agitatedly make the two-hour drive to Montrose. The traffic is light, but my accelerator foot isn’t, so I get there earlier than it should’ve taken me.
I go straight to Becks’ apartment; however, her car isn’t there. It’s 2:14 in the morning. Where in the hell could she have gone? She wouldn’t have gone to my place, that’s for sure. Did she stay in Virginia Beach, just not at our hotel? Fuck. I call her again, but still no answer. I keep calling and keep leaving messages, but I don’t hear anything from her.
I go into her room and lie down on her bed, where her scent surrounds me. All at once, the fear of losing her settles into my blood, bones, psyche, soul and my heart like a heavy fog. Is this it for us? I can’t live without her. I won’t live without her. She has to come back to me.
The panic has me up all night long.
I’m so fucking screwed.
I awake to bright, but cloudy, light spilling in through the window. Blinking, I realize I left in my damn contacts. Since I did that and didn’t get much sleep, my eyes will be bloodshot and I’ll have a headache all day. I pick up my phone and squinting, I notice I’ve only slept for two hours and 20 minutes. I check my phone for messages, but none from Becks. I’m worried about her. Where in the fuck is she? I can’t call Morgan. She’ll ask me about last night, if she doesn’t already know. Same with Rodwell.
I get my things so I can take out my contacts and get a quick shower.
I spend most of the day sitting on Becks’ couch, blankly staring at ESPN on TV, waiting for her to call me or to walk through the door. She’ll have to sometime since she works tomorrow. I doubt she has clothes for work with her and I know she’s just almost out of vacation days from her recent damn excursion.
My phone rings and I answer it in record time, not even looking to see who it is.
“Becks?”
“Not Becks, man. How was the wedding?”
“It was great,” I reply drearily, not wanting to talk to Ricky, yet do, since he’s the only other person I can talk to about this.
“Did it end up being a double wedding? Are you Mr. Hadley Beckett?” He laughs. “That better not have happened because I will be seriously pissed I wasn’t there.”
“No, but um, something else happened.” I heavily sigh and lean forward, putting an elbow on my knee and my forehead into my hand, not looking forward to telling him.
Here we go.
“Oh, no. Did you screw the bride?” He cackles and I wait for him to finish. “That’s going to be awkward at the office Christmas parties.” Ricky again laughs as he continues with his fucking laugh-a-thon, “Please tell me you at least got it on with that one little bridesmaid. Remember, I heard you two getting to know each other at your mom’s, so I know she’d play with your pecker. That was more awkward than the time you and I fucked those girls—”
“Are you going to shut up?” I impatiently ask.
When he senses my despair, he instantly stops laughing and clears his throat. “Yeah. Sorry. What’s going on? Did you and Hadley talk? Is everything okay now? Has she forgiven you yet?”
Not able to sit still, I adjust my glasses and sit back. “We talked some. We were great.”
“Were?”
“Yeah. I surprised her at the reception. We danced and I caught the garter and put it on her. Later, we went up to her room.”
“Garter? How high did you put it on her? Did she forgive your brains out?” He laughs again. What the hell did he drink? He’s wound up at the wrong damn time.
I instinctively smile as I remember Saturday night before I walked the plank. I proclaim to Ricky, “It was the best sex of my life.” And, by far, the loudest—all the yelling, the loud moaning, heavier-than-normal breathing, our fierce orgasms... I absolutely loved it. Yet, every time with Becks is phenomenal. This time, though, it was so powerful. I can still feel her body and her love pulsating over me.
I just pray to God it wasn’t my last time making love to Hadley Beckett.
I swallow and say, “Everything was right with us. We then took a walk down on the beach and she…she proposed to me.”
“She what?”
“She got down on her knee with a ring in her hand and asked me to marry her.” I close my eyes to escape the words, but now my brain replays my refusal in a high definition loop reel.
“Wow!” he exclaims with genuine happiness, which only lasts for six seconds. He then rightfully discerns, “Whoa. Wait a fucking minute. Holy shit, Wilder… You didn’t…?”
I blandly say, “I was shocked. I can’t believe she did that.”
“Finn, seriously, dude. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“I didn’t want to hurt her.” I can’t even give Ricky a straight answer, I’m so appalled with myself.
“Man, are you shitting me? You told her no?”
Still unseeing, I put my head back into my hand. “Yeah. I did.”
“
You actually told her no?” he disbelievingly repeats. “What the fucking hell?”
“Ricky, I already feel bad enough.”
“Bad? You feel bad? How do you think Hadley feels? What did she say?”
“She was upset. She took off from the hotel and I don’t know where she is. I’m at her apartment and she hasn’t been here yet.”
“I hope she’s okay. I’ll make some phone calls.” I hear him moving around. I don’t even know if he’s at work right now.
Rubbing my forehead, I reluctantly admit, “There’s something else I haven’t told you. You’re right about Cara. She, uh, she kissed me.”
“Oh, fuck. When?”
“Last Friday.”
“Where were you? What did you do?”
“It was at a coffee shop. We were sitting together and she kissed me.”
“Did you tell her to fuck off?” When I don’t answer, Ricky says, “Fuck. You didn’t kiss her back, did you?”
I open my eyes and sigh. “Yeah, but it was a reflex.”
“Shit, Finn! You’re cheating on your Becks?”
“No!” I adamantly insist, restlessly running my hand over my mouth. “I’m not, but Morgan saw us. She’s basically blackmailing me. She’s giving me a month to either tell Becks about the kiss or to propose to her. If I don’t do either, she’s telling her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I knew you’d fucking jump my ass!”
“You’re damn right I would!” He loudly sighs and mumbles something before he says, “But, I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt Hadley. What are you going to do?”
“I have to tell her.”
“Why don’t you just get engaged?”
“Because for one thing, I want to be honest with her after everything that happened. Secondly, I’d really have to marry her. And soon. That’s the other part of the deal.”
“Oh. Why can’t you? Come on already, man. You love her. Marry your girl.”
“Ricky,” I moodily protest.
He sighs. “How do you think she’s going to take it, especially since you turned her proposal down?”
“It won’t be good.”
He imparts, “Just to let you know, you’re a fucking dumbass.” Yeah. I’ve heard that before.
I hang my head. “I know I am.”
“You’re going to lose her.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. If I haven’t already.”
He snaps, “Cara’s off the team. I don’t give a fuck what you say, she’s done. I don’t want her around you two, or even me anymore.”
I nod. “Agreed. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”
“Make sure that’s all you do, Wilder. Fuck, you’re an idiot.”
I can’t even argue with that.
Becks didn’t come home Sunday or call me. I slightly caved by texting Rodwell. He said he hadn’t heard from her, either. He then asked how Saturday went, but I only texted back: Ok. I didn’t want to elaborate and he didn’t push for an answer. Morgan still hasn’t called me, so I don’t know if I should take it as a good sign that she doesn’t know about my answer yet. If so, that buys me a little time to talk to Becks. On the other hand, it could be bad. Becks may have told her, and Morgan then blabbed to Becks about the kiss. I have no fucking idea.
By Monday morning, I still haven’t heard from Becks, having stayed at her apartment until I had to leave this morning. When I got to work, rather than calling Val, I emailed her so I didn’t have to answer her questions on the spot, since I’m assuming she also knew about Becks’ plan after the reception. She responded that Becks left a message saying she’s taking the day off, but she didn’t say why. Val also asked me how Saturday went and again my only reply to that question was: Ok.
“What’s up?” Cara asks, walking into my office.
Not tearing my eyes from the beige wall in front of my desk, I crabbily retort, “Nothing.”
“You always say that and there’s always something going on. Is it Hadley again?”
I sigh and dismally move my bleak gaze to my keyboard. “Yeah. I don’t know where she is.”
“Did you have a fight?”
“You can say that.”
“Another one? Was it about…?”
I immediately glance up at Cara, giving her a sharp look. Her tits are practically in my face. “No. It was something else.” Suddenly feeling uneasy, I glance away from her. “Um, look. About you on the softball team, I can’t have you around me anymore there. I don’t want her picking up on something.”
“Okay. Can I maybe sometimes come watch the games?” I don’t care what she does.
I shrug. “If you want. I just can’t talk to you around her.”
“I get it. Oh, do you think I can hang out with you for little bit at your place after work? My roommate gets off work at 8:00 and I locked my keys in my car, so I won’t be able to go anywhere or get into my apartment until she can bring me my spare set.”
“You don’t have anyone else who can pick you up?”
“No. I’m not from around here and all my other friends are working tonight. If you think you’ll be with Hadley tonight, then I’ll just hang around here.”
I sullenly mutter, “I doubt I’ll be with her tonight.” Or for a while.
“By looking at you, I think you might need a friend to help keep your mind busy.”
“Uh, well, I’ll have to let you know. I might have to go to Montrose right after my broadcast and if so, I’m planning on staying the night.” If Becks will let me. I’ll sleep on the sofa or in my car if I have to.
“Okay. Just give me a shout when you know.”
I inhale and indifferently say, “Yep.” Cara leaves and I try calling Becks again. Nothing. How long is she going to avoid my damn calls? I can’t even concentrate on work. I’m going fucking crazy.
After my early afternoon meeting, I return to my office and see that Becks called. Like I’ve been set on fire, I take off for my car so I have some privacy to call her back, nearly knocking over the janitor and a confused mailman in the process.
“Becks! I’ve been calling you for two damn days! Where are you?”
She quietly says, “I’m okay.” I wait for her to say more, but she doesn’t.
“You’re not going to tell me where you are?”
“No. I want to be alone.” I wonder if she’s at her dad’s in Annapolis. Shit. Adam. He hates me now for sure. He’s such a cool guy, too.
I plead, “Baby, come home.”
“I’ll be home soon.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Why haven’t you called me?”
“Because there’s nothing left to say.”
“Yes, there is. We need to talk.”
“You’ve said plenty.”
“No. I have more to say.”
“Great,” she answers gloomily.
“No. That’s not what I meant.”
She brokenly sighs. “You’re off the hook again.”
“From what?”
“Me.” She sniffs and the phone rustles like she’s moving it away from her face. “You don’t have to put up with me anymore.”
“What?”
Her voice takes a dive. “All I’m doing is nagging you to do something you don’t want to do. Now I have my ultimate answer. You can be single and not have to worry about marriage looming over you.”
I shake my head at the windshield. “No, that’s not what I want! I’ll fix this.”
“Finn, you can’t. I’ve tried to not want what I want, and so have you. I don’t want you living your life constantly being hounded by me to get married. I can’t promise you that I will ever stop wanting it and you can’t promise me that you’ll ever start.”
I squeeze the steering wheel until my knuckles almost snap. “Becks, don’t do this. We’ll work it out.” I close my eyes and lean my head back against the seat, and say up to the ceiling, “I’ll change. I’ll give you anything you want. Jus
t don’t do this.”
“But that’s it. I don’t want you to do something or be someone you’re not just to make me happy. I did that to you with the bridge and now with this job. You’ll resent me even more. I know I’m holding you back. You can go to Baltimore now.” I hear her cry away from the phone and I raise my head. I’m an asshole for telling her about why I haven’t taken the job. I’ll choose Hadley Beckett over anything.
I yell, “Forget Baltimore! I want you!”
“You’re screwing up your career because of me! I never wanted you to do that! I want you to take the job!”
“I’m not going alone!”
“Yes, you will. I want you to be happy.”
“I won’t be happy without you.” Wincing, I urgently shake my head and bellow, “I love you!”
“I love you, too, Finn. I always will. I’ll never stop loving you.” She quickly inhales before shouting, “That’s why this hurts so much!”
Taking some rapid, deep breaths, I watch the mail truck leave the lot, and see Pam coming back from lunch. I’m sure anyone in the lot can hear me yelling inside my car. Calmer, I gently implore, “Becks, come home. Please. We need to talk.”
“Finn, you need to take the job before it goes to someone else. You’ll be so much better off without me pestering you. We can still be…friends.” Her voice breaks on the last word, as well as breaks me.
Returning to the edge of losing my fucking mind, I punch my door with the side of my fist. “Friends? Becks, no! Fuck the bridge and the job! You’re all I want!” I indignantly roar. Pulling at my hair, I’m helpless.
I’m losing the only woman I’ve ever loved.
Now panicking, I look aimlessly around the parking lot from my seat. “We’ll talk about what you want! I’ll do anything!”
“My proposal is off the table. I can’t keep doing this with you. It hurts to keep hoping.”
I deeply inhale, and shaking my head, I obstinately say, “It’s not just hope. I’ll make it right.”
“You can’t. I’m going to go. I’ll…”
I urge, “Come to my apartment tomorrow. We’ll talk. Please give me that much.”
Igniting the Wild Sparks Page 43
