“Hi, Aunt Reggie.” I hug her with one arm because I won’t let go of Becks’ hand.
My aunt grabs my shoulders and looks me up and down like I’m a Black Friday sales ad. “My handsome Finn is back!” Her eyes well up with tears and I try not to roll mine in front of her. “You are even more good-looking than the last time I saw you! Why is that?”
“Um, I have no idea.” This is weird for me. How am I supposed to really answer a question like that? I run my hand into my hair, wishing Becks and I had worn disguises because she’s already annoying the fuck out of me.
Reggie turns to Becks, giving her a once-over. She’d better watch what she says about my girlfriend or I will be telling her to fuck off. I don’t care where we are.
“I see why you look different.” Aunt Reggie looks back at me. “My sweet little Finn Robert is in love!” I peer at Becks. Our eyes meet and I smile at her. How right Aunt Reggie is about that.
My aunt releases her hands from my shoulders and again examines Becks. “You must be Hadley. Jules talks about you all the time. She absolutely adores you.” She holds out her hand for Becks to take. “I’m Regina, Julie’s sister. Call me Reggie.” Becks smiles that sweet smile of hers, forcing my stomach to spin. “You’ve been together, what two years?”
“Three,” Becks answers.
“Three?” Aunt Reggie jerks her head to me and delivers a hard stare. “That long? So, Finn Robert, when are you going to propose to this beautiful woman?” Fuck. Does she really have to go there? Why in the hell is it everyone’s business if Becks and I get married or not? Then if we did, they’d be asking when I’m going to knock her up. And after I did that, it would move to: When is the next kid coming along? I wish people would fucking leave us alone and get a life.
There are so many things I want to say to my aunt; however, I have to keep in mind that we are in front of a church and I should limit my battles. I drag my hand over my mouth, hoping I don’t say something that I should regret, but probably won’t.
Aunt Reggie rolls ahead with her assault. “Your mother wants you to marry Hadley. She’s worried that she’ll get tired of waiting for you or that someone else will snatch her up from you!” Like I would ever let that shit happen.
Suddenly, Becks takes her hand out of mine and puts her arms snugly around my torso, while her perfume drapes over me like a warm blanket. I recognize it as the one I got her for her birthday the first year we started dating. I hug her to my side, resolutely clinching her against me. We’re holding onto each other like we’re in a hurricane, fighting not to be torn from each other.
Becks says, “We don’t have to get married for us to be together.” Reggie looks completely thrown by Becks’ statement, but her shocked reaction doesn’t nearly come as close to how I feel. Becks couldn’t have just said that. I know how much she wants to get married. She’s lying to my aunt, but why?
Aunt Reggie hurriedly shakes her head. “Oh, honey. Don’t tell him that! Now he’ll never propose to you!”
My aunt has no fucking idea how I feel or what I want. She’s pissing me off and I’m about to tell her to mind her own business, but Becks speaks before I do.
Shrugging against me, she says, “That’s okay. I’ve accepted it. I don’t need to marry him to know he loves me. Nor do we need to get married to spend our lives together.”
What?
Why did Becks say that?
I rub my hand up and down her back, but it’s more of an action to soothe myself from my aunt’s intrusive barrage of questions. I’m confused as to why Becks would make that bold statement, specifically since it’s an obvious fallacy. Did she do it for my benefit? To help me deal with my intrusive aunt? If so, I owe her.
“I think you’ve just blown your chances.” Aunt Reggie is crestfallen. Give me a break! Why is this shit any of her business? If Becks and I wanted to raise one-legged chickens on a deserted island in the South Pole, it would be our business.
“Aunt Reggie, let me worry about our chances,” I seethe, hugging Becks tightly, feeling united with her as she firmly holds onto me. I tilt my head over my shoulder and impulsively announce, “We need to get going. It was nice seeing you.” I pray it’s another three years before I have to go through this debriefing shit again.
“Yes, it was.” Aunt Reggie starts sniffing and her eyes tear up once more. She hugs me and smiles at the both of us. “It was nice meeting you, Hadley. I hope to see you again soon.”
She nods at my aunt. “Same here.” I doubt that.
Pivoting, I steer us away from my aunt and guide Becks further along the sidewalk, but Becks stops me before I can even open my mouth to pose my earlier question again, saying, “We really do need to get going. Ricky’s waiting for us in the car.”
My lips yank to the corner from her subterfuge. “Becks, we need to talk.” She’s not going to avoid talking to me. “What happened in there?”
She feigns ignorance, badly. “What do you mean?”
“You were freaking out for some reason. Why?” I scan the parking lot as if I can find the answer posted on a sign. Did I do something and not realize it? My mouth goes dry thinking of me doing something else to upset her. “Did you not like the long service? Maybe the readings? Was it Ricky?” Maybe I did do something. “Me?”
She shakes her head as her eyes fall downward. “No. It’s none of those.”
I clutch her shoulders, like my aunt did to me, and bend so I can find her gaze. “Then what, baby? I thought you wanted to come with me.”
She nods at the ground. “I did. Thank you for bringing me.”
“Becks, talk to me.” Please, baby. Don’t push me away again.
“Finn…” She’s not going to tell me. Damn it.
I sigh and stand upright. With my hands still planted on her shoulders, I ask, “Do you still want to go out to Bethany’s?” Please say no.
She shakes her head. “No. It’s an hour’s drive and I don’t really want to socialize with her neighbors tonight.” She lifts her beautiful green eyes to my face. “What did you want to do?”
I stare into those amazing depths. What do I want to do? There are a couple things I want to do. The first is to talk. I need to know what is going on with her. Why won’t she tell me? We usually talk about everything, even if it’s something I don’t want to talk about.
The second thing, I want to hurriedly yank up her dress and fuck her slowly in my bed for as long as I am able to; yet, I can’t tell her that because at Bethany’s she asked me if I thought of her as only a place to put my dick. That was unexpected of her, to say the least. I felt like she slapped me across the face. I’m in love with Becks. How could she think I’m using her like that? Yes, I like having sex with her, it’s the ultimate stress reliever, and I admit that I need her more because of what happened yesterday. But essentially, when we make love, it’s the best way for me to feel her love, to feel peace. After she turned me down this morning, I felt like she shoved me away. I needed Becks, except that she didn’t want me when I needed her.
She said she wanted to show me other ways to spend time with her and to explore other aspects of our relationship. What the hell? That sounds like some sort of Cosmo bullshit Morgan fed her. At first, I was so against it. The last thing I wanted to do was spend time not having sex with her. That may make me sound like an asshole or a total dick, but I need the connection with her, both the emotional and physical. I only see her on the fucking weekends. Nevertheless, when we went to the lighthouse, had lunch, played on the beach, we teased each other and talked. She made me laugh and to actually let go for a while. I really did enjoy spending that time with her. Usually, we when we’re together, we stay in one of our apartments or away from crowded, public places. Once we got down to the beach, I felt myself connecting with her in a whole different way. It was fun chasing and teasing her. That’s when I began to understand what she was talking about. I want to do that more often with Becks. It made me think of the times we spent at the park with th
e soccer ball when we first started dating. Whatever happened to us doing that? Oh yeah. That was before we started having sex. Plus, for some reason, we saw each other a lot more back then.
Despite what I just said, I still want her. More than ever. I need to feel Becks’ love so much it hurts. But now, since she said she’s afraid that I’m only using her for sex, I’m hesitant to make any kind of move on her; therefore, I suppose I have to omit what I really want to do.
I look over her head to the back of the parking lot, watching cars leave. “We’ll go back to my mom’s. We can watch a movie with Ricky, if you want or if Simone is there, you can hang out with her.” I inhale and look into her eyes again. “We’ll figure something out.”
She nods and looks past me. “Okay.”
I drop my arm onto her shoulders and pull her to the car. When we’re almost to the car, I ask, “Will you talk to me? I know there’s something bothering you, baby. I want to know if there’s anything I can do or if it’s something I did.”
She answers softly, “You didn’t do anything.”
Stopping at her car, I put my hand on top of the doorframe, blocking her from opening the door. I lean into her and whisper, “Becks, you can talk to me. I know there’s something going on. I’ll leave you alone about it for now, but I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything.” We’re also best friends, Becks.
I blow out a breath and rake my other hand through my hair. Angling my head towards the church, I try one last time. “Something happened in there. What?”
She won’t look at me, so I know she’s not telling me something. This is killing me. What did I do? Then it dawns on me. Church. This was the first time we were together in a church. Then my aunt brought up that fucking subject in which Becks then had to lie about. Shit. That still doesn’t explain what happened in church.
She answers, “I don’t know if I can talk about it.” What? Why?
“Even with me?”
She doesn’t respond right off, but eventually says, “Especially with you.”
What the hell?
Now I’m depressed.
Turning my head, I close my eyes. I know what it’s about already, but I ask anyway, “Is it about what I think it’s about?” I hope not because this weekend has been hard enough for me, even before my mother’s help.
“No.”
Not the answer I expected to hear.
I open my eyes and incredulously repeat, “No?”
She folds her arms over her chest and stares at her car. “No. And, in case you’re wondering, what I told your aunt is the truth. I give up on it.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing from her. Is this my Becks I’m talking to? I couldn’t have heard her right once again. She’s surprising the hell out of me tonight, so I ask, “You what?”
Becks bites her lip and she looks exhausted, not from lack of sleep, but from whatever she’s struggling with. She whispers, “I said I give up.”
Why does that floor me? I should be thankful and be fucking delirious, but I’m not. Has she really given up on holding out for marriage? Because contrary to how I should feel about her statement, I actually don’t want her to give up. Becks doesn’t realize how much my resolve is crumbling.
Well, it was until dinner at my mother’s.
Damn it. I’m so fucking torn.
I clear my throat so I am able to speak, but still barely able to ask, “So, you don’t want to marry me anymore?” I stare at her intently, willing her to tell me that she hasn’t truly given up; although, after dinner yesterday, I unquestionably can’t marry her now.
Subsequently, why do I want her to hold onto something that I won’t give her?
Because I’m a total dick.
I watch her choke back what she wants to say and restively stuffs a handful of hair behind her ears. She takes a deliberate breath. “No.”
I gulp as her revelation kicks me in the stomach. Now, I’m holding onto the door frame not to keep her from getting in, but to keep me standing up.
She asks, “What?” I’m still too stunned to form any words. Becks then hurriedly questions, “Aren’t you relieved? I’m sure this is like the weight of the world being lifted from your shoulders.” No, I’m not relieved.
I’m unexpectedly…heartbroken.
She quietly moves to open the door, and my hand falls as if I were holding a bag of bricks. As she sits down, I turn around and close my eyes as I shove a hand into my hair. My heart races in sudden panic.
Am I already losing my Becks because of my steadfast unwillingness to marry her?
I don’t want to get married, but then again, I undeniably do. My brain tells me that I don’t want to, yet my heart is screaming for me to grab Becks’ hand, get down on my knee, and ask her the million dollar question before whisking her off to Vegas.
And I almost did all that yesterday.
I purposelessly walk away from Becks and her car, still in shock. As I pace over to the edge of the soccer field, I put both hands on my hips and gaze out into the yawning darkness. This is where I used to play with my summer soccer league as a forward. I can’t see the goalie nets, but I know they’re there. My team was coincidentally the Rebels. I loved it, but I loved baseball more and was better at it than soccer.
Consequently, between our fight and fucking dinner yesterday was an entirely different story. Ricky and I had gone to pick up more beer, giving me a chance to cool off. On the way there, I told him about Becks agreeing to move in with me, as well as asking me to get her pregnant, which oddly didn’t seem to faze him, like he somehow expected that damn bombshell. I then mentioned that I told her to go on the Pill. Now that actually surprised Ricky, and even more astonishingly, he chose Becks’ side, denouncing me as being one-sided and taking more from her than I am willing to give back. In total, he said that keeping her a secret for three years and hounding her to move in with me, but refusing to marry her or give her a baby, and on top of that, telling her to go on the Pill, isn’t fair. Like Ricky knows shit about being fair.
Then he shocked me even further by informing me that I will definitely lose Becks if I don’t marry her or knock her up.
And I very well could have last night.
After the initial fight with Becks, I needed her to know that I love her and I still want us to be together. Accepting the fact that Ricky may be right about my relationship with her, I knew I needed to do something. Choosing the one with instant gratification, I guess, I decided to propose since there’s an escape clause, unlike with a baby. I didn’t have a ring for her, but was going to propose anyway. I normally think things through before putting any kind of plan into action, but this time, I uncharacteristically wasn’t. I have to say, our fight truly shook me up. I was afraid that she was sick of waiting for me or tired of giving me so much, yet getting nothing in return; therefore, she was finally going to ditch me for good.
The one thing I had planned was that I was going to do it after dinner. I wasn’t even sure about the where or how, only that I knew I was getting down on my knee. I realize it wasn’t the most romantic plan, especially without a ring, but I was intending to explain to her that I would get her one when we got back home, or even in Dover. Whatever she wanted.
The only thing I didn’t know was if I was going to actually follow through with marrying her. As I said, I don’t have such a big problem with getting engaged. It’s the married, happily-ever-after part that snags me.
In all actuality, it wouldn’t have been the first time I’d be proposing to Becks.
She’s never caught me, but every night we’re together, after she falls asleep, I whisper to her that question I know she’s dying for me to ask her. That allows me to share my secret with her, while keeping it from her at the same time. She often answers me with a yes, but luckily, she never remembers in the morning. I have to be more vigilant because there have been a few occasions I’ve woken her up from my amused snickering next to her.
Hence, technically, w
e’re already engaged.
Becks just doesn’t know it.
Even so, getting engaged to her is one thing. Actually marrying her is quite another.
Ricky was right, but I can’t marry her now, not after what happened with my mom and Jack.
If Becks wants to get engaged—for real—I’ll do it with the stipulation that I still don’t want to get married, thus the loophole, if you will. However, can I actually avoid a wedding if I ask her to marry me? That is such a damned contradiction. Would that even really be an engagement then? Engaged to be what, unmarried forever?
Fuck.
A hand goes to my shoulder. “Hey, bro. You okay?” Ricky asks.
Watching airplane lights flashing in the night sky, I mumble, “She said she doesn’t want to marry me.”
“Yeah. She told me.”
I shake my head and laugh without a trace of humor. “I should be relieved. Why am I not?”
Ricky sighs. “You know why you’re not, man. You want to marry her.”
I shake my head more emphatically this time and heave my hands into my pockets. Looking away from Ricky and over to the black soccer field, I reply, “I can’t.”
He scoffs, “You were going to ask her yesterday, Finn. You can’t deny that. I was there.”
Tilting my head to look at him, I resolutely say, “I was wrong. I can’t. Not since…”
Ricky clasps my shoulder. “Don’t let that change your mind. You two are so good together and it’ll only get better once you’re hitched.”
I scowl and dubiously ask, “Why in the hell are you suddenly advocating marriage so much when you’ve been married twice, and you cheated the first time you were married?”
He sighs as a cold breeze sharply whips around us. “Because I believe in you two.” He puts his hand on his chest and shakes his head. “I’ve made my mistakes, and you’d be making a huge one, too, if you let Hadley go.”
“I’m not letting her go, Ricky.” I sigh and glance over at the car to see Becks quickly look away. “When I first started dating her, you said I could cheat on her and you would never tell. And now, ironically, you’re the one telling me to marry her when you used to sleep with any woman who breathed in your direction.” I regard him warily. “Now you seem to be on the up-and-up with your marriage.”
Daring the Wild Sparks Page 17