Igniting the Wild Sparks, Book 3

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Chapter 4

“You’re dating our coach?”

“He was my boyfriend first.”

“Finn Wilder just kissed you!”

“How in the hell did we not know you were dating him?”

“Does he wear boxers or briefs?” Both.

After our scandalous kiss, Finn told Milo to cut and then bolted, taking Ricky with him. Cara shot daggers at me. If I thought she hated me before, she definitely wouldn’t join my fan club anytime soon.

As soon as Finn made his escape, Shasta and Betsy accosted me. Betsy glares at me, while Shasta crosses her arms and snaps, “Are you serious? You’re the girlfriend?”

I look around in vain for my other half, but he’s nowhere. Clearing my throat, I adjust my ponytail as I scan the area for Rod or Morgan. “Yes. We’re dating.”

Betsy offers her two cents. “And you weren’t telling us?”

Dropping my arms and then crossing them, I shrug. “We didn’t think it was a big deal. To be fair, I brought him to a Christmas party one year. No one saw him, though.”

Putting her hands on her hips, Shasta asks, “Where’d you meet?” Are she and Betsy tag-teaming?

Putting his arm around me and making me jump, Rod answers, “Rehab.”

I frown, and he pats my shoulder before walking away. Facing my firing squad alone again, I say, “In the emergency room, when I broke my wrist. He was there with his sister when she was visiting him and got sick.”

Shasta irritably scowls. “Damn. I’ll need to break my wrist and scout the ER.” She could break a hip and prowl an old folks’ home. “Maybe I’ll hook a hot celebrity.”

I roll my eyes. “He’s a local celebrity, and I didn’t hook him. He approached me.”

Shasta’s eyes widen. “Oh! That’s surprising.” Fuck you!

“Why?”

She shrugs with a condescending smile. “You don’t seem to be his type. He’s charismatic and popular. You’re… not.”

I grab the chain-link to restrain myself. “He has his moments.” She doesn’t know what my boyfriend is really like.

Rod and Morgan stop next to me. Rod scoffs, “Quiet? Hadley Beckett? She’s crude, rude and has a bad attitude.”

Betsy laughs. “That’s hard to believe!” Fuck you, too!

Rod rests his arm on top of my head, forcing me to stoop. “Don’t doubt me.”

Shasta pouts. “You sleep with Finn Wilder and wake up next to him. He must be some sight to wake up to, with sexy bedhead and a huskier voice.” No kidding. That’s why I’ve been late for work when we’ve spent a rare Sunday night together.

I shove at Rod’s arm, compelling him to move. “I hate leaving him in our bed to go to work.” That’s right, Shasta. Our bed.

“He also makes you late for kite festivals. That’s gross.” Rod gags from behind me. I take note to never introduce him to Simone.

Shasta sighs and tosses her hair back. “Well, if you ever kick him out of your bed, send him my way.” She laughs, but I know she’s not joking.

I laugh on the outside, but inside, I’m a raging inferno. “Never getting rid of him.” Back off, bitch.

“Damn.”

Morgan sneers, “You’d date a coworker’s leftovers?”

“Why not? He’s gorgeous.”

Aiming for civility, I keep my growling in check. “I know he is.”

Shasta probes, “You’ve dated Finn for a year?” She and Betsy both look cynically from me to Rod, and then at me again.

“Three years.”

Betsy nods at my left hand. “That’s a long time. Why hasn’t he put a ring on it?” This damn question plucks my last nerve.

“I don’t know. We’re living together, so we’re fine.” Almost living together. Close enough.

Morgan steps up to both of them with her arms crossed. “Why does it matter if they get married?”

“I just wonder how serious he is about her.”

“Extremely. He tattooed her name over his heart. That’s tenacious, don’t you think? If you can’t see how much he loves her just from that, then you’re clueless.”

Shasta laughs. “He could always change or remove it.”

I shake my head. “He’d never do that.” He’d better not!

Behind Shasta, Finn returns to the field, holding his clipboard and is again all business. All coach. Even his sunglasses are back on his face. Mechanically, as if he pulled on my leash, I step away from the grand jury to meet him, but they follow. Finn glances my way, transitorily licks his lips, and then assesses his clipboard. His walls are rebuilt, reinforced with cement, barbed wire, and ten Pinkerton guards.

Ricky and Cara follow as the team sits on the grass. Finn looks up from his clipboard, but I can’t tell where his attention is. He woodenly says, “I’d want to thank everyone for your cooperation in the interviews.”

Rod snorts and slaps my back. “Especially Hadley, here. She cooperated extremely well with you.”

Morgan slaps Rod on the back harder. “Dick Rod, you’re just jealous he didn’t kiss you.”

I hear Finn’s deep intake of breath as he lowers his clipboard, holding it against him like a shield. “Okay. As you all saw, I kissed Hadley.” Did he? I thought I kissed him? “Yes. We’re a couple and have been dating for the past three years.” He pulls up the clipboard, essentially ending talk about his private life, having already put too much of it on public display for the rest of his life.

Betsy asks, “Are you in love with Hadley?”

He pauses his search over the clipboard and then regards Betsy as he answers, “Yeah, I love her. Very much. Why?”

Shasta then asks, “Why aren’t you engaged to her?” Oh, fuck. But I don’t hate that question.

Shaking his head, Finn returns to his clipboard. “Anyway, I made a list and assigned positions. If you have suggestions or have any questions, we’ll address them afterward.” I knew he’d eventually not answer something. Not surprised it was that one.

Rod whispers, “Hundred bucks you’re his batgirl.” I heave him away from me and intently wait for Finn’s announcements. Is he giving me a crap position just to put distance between us?

“Our first pitcher will be Crick.”

Rod leans into me again, quietly scoffing, “Really, Wilder?”

“Our second pitcher is Rod. Catcher will be Amos.”

Rod practically convulses, and he angrily whispers, “Oh, my God! Is that a fucking joke? I’m not gay!” I cover my mouth and bow my head as I laugh. When Rod punches my arm, I whimper. He swiftly rubs the spot and mumbles an apology. He’s definitely been lifting weights or dumpsters.

Morgan tosses at Rod, “Maybe you’re the last to know.” Rod reaches in front of me and offers his middle finger to Morgan, which again earns him a stern glare from Val.

Finn continues, “First base is Grant and Betsy. Second is Val. Third is Shasta and Rhonda. Shortstop is Brandon. Hadley is left field. Gloria, center. Sylvie is right field.”

He’s relegated me to actually being out in left field? What the hell?

“If we need adjustments or need to pull someone to fill another position, we’ll do that. Nothing is written in stone.”

He’d better believe it isn’t.

After Finn dismisses us, I go home and take a shower. I had wanted to talk to him after practice, but he was too busy talking to Ricky. I didn’t want to interrupt because Ricky looked grim, and not in a joking mood. I also didn’t want to argue with Finn before he went to work. His viewers don’t need to see the real Finn Wilder that often.

I pick out my long-sleeved dress with a drawstring around the waist and morphs into black at the skirt. I twist my hair up and pile it on top of my head, unable to get it to look right any other way.

As put on a pair of strappy black heels, Finn calls and tells me to meet him at Chimborazo before we eat, given he had to do last-minute Wild Side work from there.

Parking next to his car in the lot, and careful not to fall, I smooth out my dress and pick pieces of lint off of it. When I look up, Finn is next to me.

I jump. “Whoa! You’re fast!”

He ditched his tie and unbuttoned his light green shirt at the collar. His key peeks out from underneath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He bends to kiss me. His lips make me forget, for the second time today. Before we get carried away, he pulls back. “You look beautiful, as always.” He nods to his car. “I brought something with me.”

“Thanks. You did? What?”

He opens the passenger door of his car and pulls out a big paper bag with handles and a cardboard tray holding drinks. “Dinner. I thought we could eat here, since the weather’s nice. Is that okay?”

I smile and tuck loose hair, already falling from the top, behind my ear. “That sounds great.” I take the drinks from him. He locks his car and offers his empty hand to me.

We walk, and I ask, “So, did you really have work here?”

He bites his lip and looks at me, chagrined. “Uh, no. We wrapped early, and I thought of this.” He smiles and lifts the bag higher. “I ordered your usual lasagna. I hope you don’t mind.”

I smile in return at his thoughtfulness and calculated strategy. “I don’t mind. How was work?”

Finn chuckles. “It was okay. Reed ragged me about kissing another woman and pissing off my girlfriend.”

I laugh. “I imagine she will be.”

He turns his head toward me as we walk. “That’s not a dare I would ever take. You’re the only woman I will kiss from here on out, baby.” To prove his point, he stops walking, and as I falter to a stop, he kisses me.

I grin against his lips. “You’re so cute.”

He mumbles against mine, “I know.”

Pulling away, I scoff, “And self-possessed.”

He laughs. “Are you calling me cocky?”

I nod as he gently tugs my hand forward. “Yep. I guess you’re sharp,” I tease him with his comment before our interview. Finn rolls his eyes.

We reach the mini Statue of Liberty, where he shot his recent promo. Leading us to the base of the sculpture, he sets down the dinner bag, and sits, marshaling me down with him, perching me on his leg. I try to move, but he holds me tightly. Searching our surrounding area, he asks, “No chaperone?”

I giggle and again try to stand. “No. I’m a big girl.” I shift my gaze around the area just in case I’m wrong.

Finn sweeps stray strands of my hair from the side of my neck and bends to run his nose along my skin. Every nerve ending in my body lights up. His hand on my thigh slowly trails down to the hem of my dress, and he tucks his fingers beneath the material, warming my goose-bumped skin.

“What’s wrong, Becks?” Finn smoothly taunts me, pushing my dress up as his fingers perilously travel along my leg. The bastard knows what’s wrong. He pulls me closer, coercing my leg against his groin. He edges to my jaw. “Can you feel what you do to me?”

I bite my lip, so I don’t moan. I refuse to lose my willpower. “Finn, any woman, sitting on your lap, would do the same thing to you.”

His fingers dig into my thigh, clutching me firmly as his thumbs skim my skin, nearly exposing my underwear. “No, Hadley. Just your sexy body.”

Shit. He’s not doing this to me. I have to be strong. Yet, I also want to unzip him and ride my softball coach’s cock in front of Lady Liberty—well, a decent, miniature replica. God.

Finn’s tongue slides along my throat. I’m positive he feels how wet I am and my pulse pounding. When his hand reaches my hip underneath my dress, I jump up, surprising both of us.

“Sparks,” I plead, pulling down my dress as I pace away from him. He’s well aware he’s my weakness, which annoys me attempted this. When I spin, he bows his head to avoid my glare. We shouldn’t have tried being together tonight.

Sighing, he raises his head, clasping his hands together between his knees. His sad brown eyes flicker in the glowing lights. “I wish I were sorry, but I’m not.”

Melting from his rapt stare, I slowly walk back to the statue. “Can we just eat?”

His look is unrelenting for a few seconds before he reluctantly reaches into the paper bag. My shoulders slump in relief, and I sit next to him but leaving more distance between us. He’s not making this easy for either of us.

Finn hands me a plastic takeout bowl, and I carefully peel off the lid, vigilant about tomato sauce landing on my dress. I take a bite of my lasagna and gaze out at the southern view of Richmond, overlooking the James River in the distance.

“What are you thinking about?” Finn’s voice startles me, and I nearly drop my food onto my shoes. I tilt my head and see trepidation on his face.

“Nothing,” I lie, but not sure the reason. “Why?”

His smile is slight and crooked. “I know that look. A lot is going on in your head. Do you want to tell me about it?”

I unwillingly smirk and set down my lasagna. “You think you know me that well?”

He nods, his eyes searching mine. “I’d like to think I do. But you keep me guessing. I love that, but it worries me because I don’t know your next move.”

I laugh and mindlessly twist strands of my hair. “You make it sound like I’m a game.”

He doesn’t laugh at my glib observation. “In a way, you are. But I don’t know how to win. Do I need to answer questions to stay in the game? Collect enough pie pieces? Get the highest score? Make it to the last square first? Have the most money?” He angles his head at me and sighs. “You’re a riddle I can’t solve.”

I look down at my lap, unsure of what to say. The light breeze punctuates our silence as we sit, decoding each other’s thoughts. He finally whispers, “Becks?”

I nod to the ground. “Same with you, Sparks. Everything about you mystifies me.” Glancing up at him, it appears he’s hanging on to every word. “You’re like a jigsaw puzzle. I strive to get the pieces to fit, but nothing works. I try doing the frame, but I can’t fill it in. I take a crack at little sections of the picture, but there are a million leaves to the tree. There are countless ways to complete the puzzle. It’s frustrating.”

He studies me without blinking, and I swear he sees my soul. I veer away, and he says, “I don’t want to do that to you. I want us to be open with each other.”

I quietly reply, “You know everything about me.”

As I look up, it’s his turn to avoid me. “I suppose I didn’t tell you about what happened in high school. I said my school didn’t have a soccer team. I’m sure you saw the soccer field when I took you there.” He lifts his head. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

I shrug. “I thought maybe it was new.” I’m lying to him again when he wants us to be honest. I’m such a jerk.

“No. They had soccer. I played, but they kicked me off the team for fighting.”

“Oh. Did you start it?” I hope I look oblivious.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He hunches over his legs, confessing, “Because the guys from the opposing school were assholes. They bragged and called us names when we lost. We tried so hard, Becks. Some of us got together and stormed their bus, just to call each other names and shit. We didn’t go to for a fistfight, but the one blond got in my face. I warned him I would knock him on his ass. He laughed and shoved me, calling me a pussy, so I punched him in the mouth. The other guys jumped in and…” He stops and shakes his head. I lightly touch his shoulder, and his muscles tense beneath my fingers.

“It doesn’t sound like you started it.”

Like that sullen teenager once more, he mumbles, “I shouldn’t have been there. I let them get to me.”

“It’s okay. You weren’t totally in the wrong.” I mildly laugh. “You warned him.” Just like he warned Rod at the club.

“Our coaches caught us, but I couldn’t stop hitting the kid. It was like I was on autopilot. My coach had to haul me off, still trying to fight. I was suspended for a week and banned from joining the soccer team for the rest of high school. That’s the only fight I got in, but I was still screwed up at the time. My parents were divorcing, and my dad was leaving Dover. I guess I acted out. My parents made me see a psychologist for a while. She said I was depressed and gave me antidepressants. I took them until I graduated from college.”

I drop my hand to his knee, and his gaze follows. “I’m glad you told me this. Why are you telling me this now, though?”

He covers my hand with his and gives me a squeeze before looking up at my face. “Because I don’t want anything between us. I want to be honest with you. We’re each other’s best friend.”

I scratch my nails against his pants, moving his fingers with mine. “You are my best friend, Sparks. I always try to be honest with you.” I guess not hard enough.

Finn moves his hand from mine, suddenly standing and reaching into his pocket. Intrigued, I watch him as he pulls out his phone. He smiles. “In case of music emergencies.”

Greg Rodwell has invaded all of our lives.

I giggle as he puts the phone next to me on the stone base. Holding out his hand, he warily asks, “Dance with me?”

“You’re asking me to dance?”

He nods, and his eyes are circumspect. “I am.”

I shake my head. “Finn Wilder doesn’t dance.”

Finn wiggles his fingers to encourage me to grab his hand. “I know, but I’ll make an exception.”

I wave my hands to the empty area around us. “And you’re picking me over all these other women here?”

A small smile hints at his mouth. “I’ll always pick you, Becks.”

I take his hand, and he yanks me up, crashing me to his chest. I squeal, which makes him laugh. Between giggles, I ask, “Is it Milli Vanilli?”

Finn rolls his eyes before becoming serious. “No. It’s my song for you.” Winding his arms around my waist and holding me close, he back-steps to the railing, where he stood for his promo. The lights of Richmond twinkle below as the sun fades into the horizon.

“Doesn’t the park close soon?”

“Yeah, but I know a guy who knows a guy.” His cocky grin makes a reappearance. My hands go to his shoulders, and I embrace his stressed muscles.

K-Ci & Jo-Jo’s All My Life plays. Surprised, I ask, “You picked this song?”

He nods. “It’s self-explanatory. It says exactly what I want to say to you, baby. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

My right hand moves to his left bicep, and I trace my fingertips over his shirt. “It must be your shamrock tattoo.” We both chuckle. “I’m lucky, too.” I anxiously clear my throat and peer up at him. “I have a question.”

His smile vanishes. “What?” Why does he anticipate the worst?

Trying not to sound like a whiny child, I calmly ask, “Why am I literally out in left field?”

Moving his hands from around my back to my hips, Finn is fidgety and evasive, which immediately raises flags. He cautiously asks, “You don’t want to be there?”

“I played shortstop. I thought maybe you’d put me there. Left field is boring, Sparks.”

He tightens his fingers on my hips. “It’s safer.” Shit. Now he sounds like Rod. Why do I need overprotecting? It’s softball. I’m not hitting the front lines of a battlefield.

“Safer? You think I’d drop balls or run into someone?”

He rubs his thumbs over my dress. “No. It’s better with you in the outfield instead of the infield. Less risk of you getting hurt.”

“So, it’s okay if anybody else gets hurt? I don’t want special treatment because I’m your girlfriend.”

Finn shakes his head and glances down. “That’s not why.”

“Did I suck that much in practice? I guess I didn’t think of that.”

Still looking down, he replies, “No. You were great. Ricky wanted to put you at first.” Even if he doesn’t look directly at me, he grins like he’s passing the torch to his bright-eyed protégé. “He thought you and Rod had chemistry and worked well as a team. That irked me, but I saw it, too. You and Rodwell would get the outs.”

My forehead wrinkles. “Oh. I’m still lost. Why aren’t we working together then?”

He impatiently sighs, raising his head. “Becks, if you’re…” He licks his lips and turns to the city lights, yet he closes his eyes. “If you’re… pregnant, I don’t want you getting hurt because of it.” He barely could spit out that dirty word. So, pregnant, I could blow our win.

“How would I get hurt because of it? It won’t change anything for a while if I am.”

Turning back to me, he argues, “Maybe you’d be sick and not on top of your game, in a manner of speaking.”

“I’d tell you if I didn’t feel right.”

“Would you really? I don’t want to take that risk, and you get beamed in the head. You could get seriously hurt, Becks. Softballs to the head have killed people.” Oh. He’s not worried about me losing our hypothetical baby. I’d be a liability.

Leaning close, he kisses beneath my ear, his deep voice husking, “Baby, I’m protecting you. It would kill me if you got hurt because of what I did to you.” Something as horrible as impregnating me? Wow.

“It’s not all your fault. I was there, too.”

He straightens, boring his dark eyes into my skull. “Becks, will you please not argue with me? You’re in the outfield until further notice. You’re lucky I’m letting you play at all.” Coach Wilder isn’t much fun.

“Okay. Damn,” I mutter against his chest. I relent, knowing I can’t win this argument. He’s the boss on the diamond and has the authority to boot me, which leaves him in Shasta’s and Cara’s clutches.

Finn kisses my forehead as I sulk. “I don’t want to fight with you.” His nose burrows into my hair, and he keenly inhales. “You smell so good.” The heat of his breath bathes the top of my head. Unexpectedly, he puts his hand under my chin, lifting my face to his zealous lips. Our dancing slowly halts as our kiss deepens. His hands leave my hips and catch my face, his fingers burying into my hair. Vaguely, I notice he has the song on repeat. I also realize he’s drawing me in, yet again. He fervently licks his tongue against mine, and I feel my resolve crumbling. I will definitely fuck him in front of that statue and a quarter of Richmond.

I jerk away from him, breathing hard, and close to tearing the buttons off his shirt like he did to mine at Bethany’s. “Finn, you said you’d give me time to think. You’re making this more challenging than it should be. I’m not one of your dares.”

He frowns while his eyes glide over my body. “No, you’re not a dare, Becks. You think it’s easy for me when you wear this dress, and I can’t explore you underneath?” He holds me closer to him and cocks his head. “Do you think it’s easy for me to hear about your long shower? To watch you swing a bat? Bend over to pick up a softball or to stretch and jump to catch one? You think it’s easy for me to watch you lift up your shirt for a mic wire?”

“No. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you paid that much attention to me putting on a mic. There are others to watch on the team.”

His hands tense around my arms. “You’re the only one I want to watch. Why do you think I wear my sunglasses at the field? It’s not because of the sun, really. It’s because I can’t take my eyes off you.” He returns his hands to my hips, and his thumbs glide over my stomach. “Becks, be honest with me. Are you leaving me because of our fight?”

“No, Sparks. I told you I want to sort through my feelings and about going on the Pill.”

His right hand brushes through his hair, making it messier and so sexy. “Do you know what you want to do?”

I glance at the city. “No.”

“If you don’t want to go on the Pill, there are other options. We can look into them. I’ll even get snipped.” My heart plummets. He truly doesn’t want a baby with me.

“I don’t want you to do something that drastic. You might change your mind one day, and it’d be too late. A lot of reversals don’t work.”

“It’s still an option.” Of course, it is. He’d probably do it on a lunch break if I asked him to.

“I’ll make an appointment and talk to my doctor.”

He nods before quietly asking, “Do you think you might be pregnant?” Heaven forbid Finn Wilder knock me up. His life would end.

We’re not even dancing anymore, only holding on to each other. “I don’t know. It’s too early. I’ll take a test if I’m late.”

“I want to be there if you take a test. It was my Easter gift. I’d like to see it through.” Jeez. How thoughtful.

I grumble, “I don’t know. You might not like the result.”

His hand dives into his hair again. “Becks, it’s my responsibility. I’d deal with it.”

“Just like how you’re drinking?”

Finn’s gaze hardens. “I don’t do it every night.”

“It’s enough. I’m worried about you.”

He stoops to look into my eyes. “Then come back to me.”

I scrunch up my face. “I am with you, Finn. Why are you making this bigger than it is?”

His eyes harden. “Because I fucking miss you. I barely see you enough as it is. And now when I see you, it’s in front of a bunch of people. I can’t take it. I kissed you on camera, Becks. On camera. I never would’ve done that in a million years. And I would’ve kept going until we were full-blown, X-rated making out if Reed didn’t stop us. I crave your touch, baby. Any way I can get it.”

“I need to feel you, too. You’re all I think about.” I slide my hands to the nape of his neck, tangling my fingers into his hair. “So, you miss me?”

He leans away from me and indignantly arches his lip. “How can you ask me that? I…” He moves away, my arms dropping as his hand flies to his mouth as he searches the city below for something. Oh, shit. Why did I ask him that? Even Ricky knows Finn misses me without having to say it. I’m an idiot.

Finn whips his head back to me and is again in front of my face. “What do you want me to tell you? I miss you so much that I got in my car twice to drive to your apartment last night. I miss you so much I check my phone every minute to see if I missed your call, right up until I go in front of the camera. I miss you so much I don’t want Pam to mess with my hair. I want it the way you like it in case you’re watching me, wishing you were running your fingers through it. I miss you so much that I crave your smile against my lips. Hearing you laugh when I tickle you. How you moan when I’m inside of you.” His hands go to my cheeks. “I miss you so much that I sleep on your pillow, but your scent is disappearing. That’s ripping me apart, baby.”

I nervously laugh at his melodrama. “It’s only been a week.”

“A fucking day is too long, Becks! This has been my problem from the very beginning of us!” He releases his hands from me and puts them on his hips, staring at the ground between us.

I twist my fingers together over my stomach. “We’ll be together again soon.”

He inhales and looks up. His eyes are pleading. “Will you come home with me, just for tonight? I’ll even drive you to work in the morning.”

I fervently shake my head. “No. I can’t.” I won’t want to ever leave.

“We won’t have sex.” I want to, though. When I attempt to argue that, he quickly says, “I’ll even put pillows between us.” I raise a disbelieving eyebrow, and he tilts his head. “Okay. I’ll sleep on the couch. I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

“When I’m sleeping in the next room, in your bed, wearing just a T-shirt?”

Finn sighs as a hand returns to his brown hair. “Forget that. I’d be no gentleman.”

I can’t help my laugh. “Remember? Stay away from beds, couches, and back seats?”

He winces. “I never thought I’d relive that.”

“It’s not forever. Sparks, come on. You weren’t this bothered by it the first time.”

“I was, but this is worse because I know what I’m missing.” He’s killing me.

“Oh.” I release my fingers and close the gap between us, wrapping my arms around him. He warily looks down at my face. His full lips are so tempting. “I promise to make it up to you.”

His hands are again on my face, and his lips hover next to mine. “Fuck. Don’t tell me that. Now that’s all I’ll think about.”

“I’ll stay with you next weekend. Okay?”

“When will you move in with me?”

“Soon. Just don’t rush me, as you say.”

He huffs, “Fine.”

I lightly kiss him and move away, giving us a breather. “So, what’s the deal with Cara?”

Finn’s eyes crinkle with his forehead. “What do you mean?”

“She wants you.”

His eyebrows wrench together harder. “How do you know that?”

“Because she stares at you the whole time.”

His confusion changes into a knowing smirk. “Hang on. You’re staring at her when she’s staring at me?”

My lips ruefully tug to one side. “Basically.”

He chuckles. “Is my Becks jealous?”

I cross my arms and roll my eyes. “Maybe. She doesn’t like me, either.”

“She’s never said she doesn’t. If she did, I’d tell her to fuck off.”

“Morgan doesn’t trust her.”

Now Finn rolls his eyes. “Morgan’s always looking for a conspiracy.”

“She’s watching out for me.”

He shoves his hands into his pockets. “So am I. You don’t have to worry about Cara. She’s harmless. I have no interest in her like that.”

I walk to the railing, overlooking downtown, and over my shoulder, I ask, “Did she know who I was?”

He follows me. “No. I thought it’d eventually come out, not the way it did, but whatever. I’m glad it’s out. You were right, Becks. I’m tired of hiding our relationship. It’s nice to smile and at you and not have to explain why I’m gawking.”

“So sunglasses don’t hide your infatuation with me after all?”

“No. I think it’s obvious to everyone but you.”

I grab the metal and turn to look at him. “Did Cara accuse you of liking me or something?”

He grips onto the metal next to my hand, his chest touching my arm. “She caught me staring at you a lot. She reminded me that I allegedly have a girlfriend. I told her I was aware of that.”

I giggle. “What’s Ricky say about her?”

A dark cloud crosses his face, and he looks out to the city. “Ricky thinks she has a thing for me. He also reminded me I have a girlfriend.” He returns his attention to me. “As I’ve told him, there’s nothing to worry about. She can like me all she wants, but the feeling isn’t mutual. My feelings are with you. Okay?”

I nod. “She’s so pretty and younger.”

He shrugs. “She doesn’t hold my heart like you do. I love only you, Becks. Forever.”

I smile, making him smile. “I love you, too, Sparks. Forever and a day.” I poke at his chest and laugh. “Ha! I beat you!”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I let you win.” He leans down to kiss me again as the city sparkles behind us.

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