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Authors: Ren Alexander

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BOOK: Chasing the Wild Sparks
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“I doubt that.”

“If you’re going to leave Richmond, let me know before you hightail it out of here. You know I’ll come with you.”

I lampoon him. “You’re married. You can’t just go.”

“If Shay doesn’t want to go, then, oh well. You and I will start fresh somewhere.”

“That’s crazy. That’s my point of marriage. You’re willing to throw yours away…again.”

He catches me in the mirror. “The first one was all me. I admit that. I was a fucking bastard for doing that to Nina. This time… I don’t know. We probably shouldn’t have gotten married in the first place. It’s not like that for everyone, Finn. Shit.”

I rub my forehead with my fingers. “Right. Then, you’ll probably get her pregnant soon and it’ll be all over after that.”

“No. She doesn’t want a baby, which is fine with me. What about you? Doesn’t Hadley want to have kids soon?”

I sigh and lean on my hand. “Yeah. She’s brought it up before. I know she does.”

He laughs. “What the fuck is she doing with
you
then? No marriage. No kids. You’re just the whole package, Wilder!”

“Shut the hell up, Tesco.”

“Do you think she’ll try to get pregnant?” Do I? I don’t know. I hope she wouldn’t do that to me.

“No. I don’t think she’d do that on purpose. If anything,
I’ll
be the one to fuck up.”

“Yeah really. Condoms suck.”

I mumble, “They do.” My head is already starting to pound.

“That other shit you use, I’m not even familiar with.”

“It’s not perfect, but it’s better than rubbers.”

“Why wouldn’t it be? You don’t have to do shit on your part.” True. I laugh. He asks, “You do know that you could still knock her up, though, right? I mean nothing’s foolproof.”

“No shit. Thanks for the sex ed. update.” He rolls his eyes at me in the rearview.

We’re quiet for a minute before he says, “Finn, don’t leave Richmond without me.” I look at him incredulously through the mirror. He reminds me, “We have a pact. We’re partners, man.”

I dubiously laugh. “No way. You’re just my sidekick.”

“Sidekick, my ass! You’re my mascot, dickhead,” Ricky demands as he approaches the gates of my complex. I laugh.

After Ricky talks to the guard, explaining about my car coming soon without me and he lets us through, he says, “Did you tell her why you want her to move in with you?”

“Yeah. I told her because I miss her and I’m lonely without her.”

Contesting me, he says, “Not
that
reason.”

I glance up at him in the mirror. “No.”

He sighs. “You need to talk to her, Finn.”

I rub my knees anxiously and sit back. “There is no way in fucking hell I’m going to tell her.”

“Come on, man! You’re both going insane and you’re both driving me there with you! You two want the same fucking things, but on your own terms. You’re idiots!”

I growl, “No.”

“Don’t keep it a secret anymore.”

“I shouldn’t have even told you.”

“I guessed it, but you tell me everything anyway. You know you love me.”

I look up at the mirror. “Like a hemorrhoid.”

He pulls in front of my apartment and says something into his radio. “Finn, tell Hadley already. Fuck.”

My secret?

I want to marry Hadley Bliss Beckett.

My Becks.

More than anything in my life.

I want us to vow and commit our souls to each other for eternity. I want her to have my last name and be Hadley Bliss Wilder—my Becks Wilder—so much it’s permanently engraved on my heart, my soul and in my mind. I long so much to be Hadley’s husband and for her to be my wife. I dream about it.

However, I can’t do it.

I won’t do it, even though it kills me not to. Marriage can be a blessing, but it’s beyond rare. I’ve only seen it with my dad’s parents who were married for 54 years. Mostly, I’ve seen the institution of marriage turn out to be a curse.  I do believe in the spiritual aspect of marriage. That’s the part I want with Becks, but I don’t know what dooms marriages in general and I refuse to wreck our love.

The first day I started calling her
Becks
was the day we spent kicking around a soccer ball.

It’s also the day that I realized that I want to marry her.

We were at a park, a little over a month into dating, after she got her cast off. I tried teaching her how to head the ball and to do different kicks. I guess I also showed off a bit by popping it on my knee and then having her try it. She had the ball all over the place, and not in a good way, so as a joke, I called her Becks, which is David Beckham’s nickname. It also was funny because of her last name, Beckett. I loved it. She had laughed and called me a smartass, which only fueled my teasing.

As we kicked around the ball and chased it together, both of us falling to the ground laughing, which soon turned to kissing, I felt something happen. I hadn’t just fallen to the ground with Hadley. I also had truly, irrevocably, whole-heartedly; committedly fell in love with her. I didn’t lie to Becks when I told her at the kite festival that I fell for her when she asked me if I was afraid of heights; that’s only when the ball had started rolling. It was just a different echelon on my path to falling in love with Becks. The elevator going to the first floor in a short building, I guess you could say, and each floor after that being more significant.

I never thought I’d ever want to get married. But that day as I watched her fumbling and giggling over the soccer ball and making out with her in the grass, I knew that after only such a short time of dating, she was the one I wanted to pledge my forever to. I remember panicking when the feeling flooded through me. I told her I had to go to my car to make a phone call for work regarding a story, but I really needed a few minutes to myself. Not only had I fallen even more in love with her, I wanted her to be mine for all time. We hadn’t even had sex yet, which when we did, it took me up to another level of falling even more deeply in love with her.

I watched her from my car kicking the ball around, my heart throbbing because of my feelings about marriage. I couldn’t, and still can’t, understand how I would want to marry her, but at the same time, not want to. It’s a constant war being fought between my mind and heart. And that aching feeling has only increased a million percent, making me especially irritable whenever the subject of marriage arises.

Calling her
Becks
is so sacred to me. In a strange way, it’s like a wedding ring that I gave to her, and it reminds me how I covertly feel about Hadley Bliss Beckett, as if I really need a reminder, but it reiterates to me how my love for her evolved on that day.

That’s why I’m so desperate to have her live with me. I want to at least, in some way, have the feeling of marriage without the actual legality scourge of it, if that’s what breaks marriages up. I don’t know what exactly does. I can’t tell Becks that I want to marry her, either. She’ll try even harder to talk me into doing it, and it’s such a weakness for me. Every time she brings it up, it loosens a bolt, chips away at my brick wall, adds another chink in my armor, tears at my heart…

I know she wants me to marry her soon. If I could vow my love to her without actually marrying her, I’d do it. I try to do that when we make love. I want her to feel how much I love her. I tell her, but she doesn’t seem to take my word for it. I show her with my body, yet she doesn’t seem to get it. I want her to understand that I am committed to her for life. She wants that fucking piece of paper that seems to be more valid in her eyes than what my heart is confessing to her. Other than marrying Becks, what can I do to convince her that I’m all hers? I’m so frustrated with our entire situation; neither one of us wants to budge, even though we want the same exact thing.

She just doesn’t know that.

Becks is my everything. She’s my happily-ever-after without the white wedding. If only we could somehow reach an agreement. However, there’s no way we can have that if we can’t even live together and see each other only once or twice a week.

I want a marriage with Becks, but I despise the destruction something about that institution brings. And the mystery to me is that I have no idea what part of it is the cause of the devastation.

I’m a living and breathing contradiction. Irony in a suit and tie, or at times, in a safety harness.

Aside from the inexplicable marriage curse, I also don’t want the rest of the bullshit that accompanies getting married. The wedding, for one. As much as I am a public person or the center of attention, I wouldn’t want such a personal, private and profound experience to be witnessed by everyone to have ever fucking graced my life. Then, the damnable license, tedious parties, and pictures taken with 10,000 people you don’t know. Fuck. My career is intrusive enough.

Consequently, when Becks told me in the club in front of Rod that she wouldn’t move in with me, it was like she threw the theoretical engagement ring back at me, spit in my face and kicked me in the balls.

If I ever did propose to her, I couldn’t take it past that. I wouldn’t marry her. If she wants the ring, I’ll give her one, but I can’t promise any more than that. Giving her an engagement ring would be hard for me because that ring would be a glaring reminder of what we can’t have; a promise that I can’t keep.

So there. I finally fucking admitted my greatest desire. But, I’ll never admit it to Becks. The only other person that knows is Ricky and that’s how it’s going to stay.

It’s something I’ve painfully lived with for the past three years since meeting my
soulmate in the emergency room.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 17

 

 

 

“How she doing?”

“Not good. She wouldn’t talk about anything this morning.”

“Where is she at now?”

“The bathroom. I think she wants to avoid us for a while longer.”

“She’s got to talk to someone about what happened last night, Morgan.”

“I know that, Rod, but I can’t force her to, or she might not talk about it at all.”

“Do you think she’s done with Wilder?”

“Hell no. She’ll never be done with him. He’s in her blood.”

“He loves her. You can definitely see that.”

“He doesn’t even know what love is. He’s an egotistical jerk who doesn’t take rejection easily. He’s not good for her. He wants to keep her in a birdcage with a blanket draped over it.”

“You should’ve heard the things he said to her. I’ve never wanted to punch someone so hard in my life. He embarrassed her like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Why? What did he say?”

“He was yelling on the dance floor really personal things about them. I can’t even repeat them. It made me sick.”

“Personal things? He was talking about their sex life?”

“Or lack of.”

“Oh, my God.”

“I tried to get her away from him, but he followed and shouted even more things. He accused Hadley and me of having an affair.”

“What? You two would never—”

“I know that. Apparently, he doesn’t trust her.”

“Are you sure that you aren’t sending some kind of vibe Wilder’s way? I mean, last night you were pretty upset about him being there. You also seem to becoming more and more defensive.”

“So were you, Morgue! He was also threatening to kick my ass! Of course I was defensive!”

“I mean defensive of Hadley.”

“She’s my friend. I’ll defend her. That’s what friends do.”

“I’m just saying that Finn is probably feeling threatened, so now he’s more territorial of her. He doesn’t want another male encroaching on his mate.”

“Why are you talking like we’re apes?”

“I think I fell asleep while Ivan was watching Animal Planet last night.”

I can’t hear this anymore.

I take a deep breath, straighten out my pink scoop neck top, toss my hair over my love bite, and round the doorway into the bright kitchen.

“Hadley!”

“Hadders, good morning.”

I hurriedly walk straight to the refrigerator to put my lunch bag away. “Morning,” I mumble from behind the door.

I hear Morgan’s heels clicking over to me against the polished sky blue floor. She peers over the top of the door as I take my time shifting my lunch around the shelf. “Are you okay?”

I stand and shut the door, evading looking her in the eye by glancing out the window instead. “I’m fine.” I turn to leave, but she puts her hand on my arm.

“Hadley, you can’t avoid us. We need to talk about what happened.”

I close my eyes. “I don’t want to.”

“We want to help you.”

I look over at her, confused. “How can you help me? I don’t even know what I’m going to do.” I absently stare at the black trash can and play with my ring. “I can’t talk about this yet. Maybe by lunchtime, okay? Just…let me have this morning to myself.” I hesitantly regard Rod who has his hands in his black pants pockets. I notice his tie and I abruptly giggle.

Rod looks back and forth between Morgan and me, utterly perplexed. “What?”

“Snoopy?”

He lifts his tie and quickly glances down before looking up at me and replying sensitively, “He’s a classic!” I giggle some more and he cracks a smile.

“So is that smile,” he says. “I’ll talk to you later, Hadders.” He walks out of the kitchen as Morgan leans against me.

“You do know you have a big hickey on your neck, right?”

My hand automatically flies up to the left side of my neck. “Yes. I tried covering it up, but the makeup keeps coming off. I wish I had the stuff Finn uses for his.”

“For
his
? From you, right?”

I glower at her. “Yes, from me! Jeez!”

“Okay!” She ruefully puts her hands up. “He goes to work a lot with them?”

“Well, no. Sometimes, I guess. I don’t mean to make them so visible! I forget when I’m in the moment.”

“That’s enough. I don’t want to hear any more. I get it. He’s a hot bastard,” she begrudgingly admits as she props her back against the counter. “Just keep people from seeing the left side of your body until it fades.”

“That’ll work,” I reply sardonically.

“Christ, Hadley. You two were only together for about twenty minutes last night. How’d you get him from being furious at you to sucking on your neck? Did he fuck you, too?”

I shut the swinging kitchen door, trying not to gape in astonishment that she actually brushed along the fact that he indeed had tried to fuck me. “No, he didn’t, Morgan. We danced. He had been drinking, so when we started dancing, he just went for it. I couldn’t stop him.”

“That’s doubtful. Another case of
couldn’t
versus
wouldn’t
.”

“Maybe.”

She crosses her arms and regards me in bafflement. “I don’t know about you and Finn. What are you doing, Hadley? You two were so happy a week ago, but now…you both seem to be changing. I can’t put my finger on it. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, Morgan. One minute, like at the race, he seems to want to show people we’re a couple by holding my hand or kissing me or at the festival when he introduced me as his girlfriend to two of his Finnatics. Then…he doesn’t. He couldn’t even introduce me to his coworker and his wife at the festival. I don’t get it. I have no idea what he truly wants. He says he doesn’t want to get married, but then he wants to live like we are. It’s like he’s a tornado circling aroun
d me, but there’s no way I can keep up with him. I’m only spinning myself into the ground.”

Cocking her head at me, she looks at me thoughtfully. “Have you talked to him about anything else that you want?”

Looking out the window, I quietly say, “No.”

Just as quiet, she asks, “He doesn’t know you want to get pregnant?”

“We’ve talked about kids in the past. He doesn’t want them. Probably not ever.”

She indifferently shrugs. “Why don’t you just go off of the Pill? Let it happen.” I would never
forget
to use birth control with Finn. I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t do that to myself.

“No, Morgan. I refuse to do that. I will not trap him.”

“What if it happens anyway, Hadley? He’ll be trapped that way, too, albeit unintentionally. He has to know there’s a small risk of you getting knocked up even on the Pill. Look what happened to me! I took it every day. Never expected mine to happen, but it did.”

“I know.”

“Does
he,
though?”

“Yes.” I don’t know.

“Will he be there to support you if he gets you pregnant?”

“I’d like to think he would be.”

“He’d better be.”

“Morgan, as long as he doesn’t want me to get pregnant, it won’t happen. I’m not going to trick him or lie. What kind of person does that make me if I did that?”

“You’re an awesome person, Hadley. You have your own principles and are sticking to them, but he has his, too, as fucked up as they are. I respect and admire your beliefs and standpoint. That’s why last night, seeing him treating you like shit was hard for me. You’re like my sister. When you hurt, I hurt. I want you to be happy, even if it has to be with that conceited bastard.”

Fighting a smile, I purse my lips. “I thought you said he was a hot bastard.”

She rolls her eyes. “That, too.”

I shake my head as I sigh. “He’s not always cocky. Most of it is for show. He’s actually very vulnerable and reserved when it’s just us.” Sometimes he’s
too
reserved and won’t talk to me.

“I know he is. I’ve seen a sliver of it. About 90% of Finn Wilder is egotistical bullshit. You get the genuine 10% that not many people see.”

“That’s all?”

“Ugh. Fine. 80/20.”

I smile sadly. “I love him, Morgan. Last night is killing me.”

“I know, but I don’t want him hurting you anymore by refusing to give you the things that you want in life.” Morgan pushes herself off of the counter and walks over to give me a hug. “I’m here if you need me. I don’t have to be anywhere today, so if you want to talk or if you want to cry, you know where I am.” I nod, peering down at the floor. If I see the sympathetic look in her eyes, I’ll lose it.

After our impromptu chat, I go to my office. It’s really two rooms. The smaller, outer room is where my desk is, and it’s one of those wrap-around deals. It’s neat and organized. There are two chairs on the far side of my desk, usually occupied by Rod or Morgan. On the wall behind the chairs, is a huge bookshelf filled with law books and such. Behind my desk is a huge window. We’re only on the third out of five floors, so we aren’t that high up. Rod likes to stare out at the busy road or at the large cemetery across from our office building, making fun of people walking or driving by, not excluding any mourners from his crazy and mostly inappropriate scrutiny. He really needs to find a new hobby besides hanging out in my office or DJ’ing his family’s parties.

Rod has a similar office, but his window overlooks the alley. I complain more than he does about the view because he’ll relay to me what he sees happening down there. Often. It’s like a big screen TV for him.  Most of the action would be fit for a police blotter or one of those black and white tabloids. Though, I think he makes most of it up. Yet, I did once see a man peeing into a bottle down there. Not sure what the point of that was, but I had nightmares for a week.

Pulling out my chair, I take a seat at my desk. Val must either be on a call or isn’t here since her door is closed. I wake up my computer and notice the picture of Finn next to it. He’s smiling, his white teeth gleaming. It must be a requirement to have perfect teeth when you’re a TV personality, or when your mother is a dentist. I turn the picture so that it’s facing another direction. I’ll stare at it and cry all day if I don’t move it. Not that I’ll be able to concentrate on work today without having the picture in my face. How will I avoid him coming over tonight? I don’t want to see him.

Yes, I do. I love him and I forgive him.

No, I don’t. I’m still hurt and horrified about him revealing such personal things about us…to strangers. Rod even heard some of it. Drunk or not, how could Finn do that to me? To us? I didn’t even know that it bothered him so much that I don’t give him oral sex. I can’t even describe how that makes me feel. I could try it if he really wanted me to, but he’d most likely be hurt or upset if I didn’t like to do it. He’s never asked, just tried to coax me in that direction a few times. Likewise, I never asked him to do it to me, either. He just did it. I think it’s maybe because I told him no other man had done that to me before. I had tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t let me. He said he wanted to be my first and only. I had no idea what to expect until he put his tongue inside me. He wasn’t there long before I was pulling his hair; floating on a higher plane.

Would that be how he’d feel? Am I a horrible bitch for denying him that?

As I turn the other pictures of Finn around, I wonder what Finn’s desk at work looks like. Is it messy? Neat? I know, without seeing it, that he doesn’t have any pictures of me littering it.

Undecidedly, I take my phone out of my purse and set it on my desk. I turned it off last night and have yet to turn it back on. I’m afraid to. It might actually blow up from all the messages I probably have, but then again, maybe I don’t have any from him. He may have snapped last night and has decided he’s better off without my drama.

I close my eyes and lean my elbows onto my desk, my forehead down onto my hands. How will I get through this day? Did we break up last night? How will I get through life without Finn, if that’s what this is? I can’t imagine that last night was our goodbye. Would he just leave me without saying another word to me ever again?

I hear Val’s door open and I look up. “Good morning, babe. How was your weekend?” Val Dryden is the coolest boss ever. She’s in her mid-fifties. Her shoulder-length, wavy hair is “sweet banana blonde,” as she calls it. She swears that’s what her hair dresser called it when she gave it to her. Val’s hair is naturally dark brown, but you would never know that if she didn’t tell you. She even gets her eyebrows dyed to match. The blonde genuinely suits her.

Val’s outfit this morning makes me smile. She has a baby blue, matching tweed jacket and skirt on, which makes her blue eyes more noticeable. She has a chunky, Hawaiian, brown cockle shell necklace from the years she lived in Hawaii, where her first husband had a job. She says, “Let me go to the restroom, and then get another cup of coffee before we get together. Okay?”

I dismally nod and slowly slide my arms off my desk.

“You okay, babe?”

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