Igniting the Wild Sparks

by Alexander, Ren

I roll my eyes and try to get my legs to go faster, shouting, “Four words! Wow! I’m so deserving!”

  With his long legs, I know he’s on my ass by now because his voice is closer and angrier. “We have a game!” Really? Didn’t notice.

  Heading to the nearest tennis court, not knowing what I’ll do from there, I book it, but can’t run or the aching in my stomach will literally bring me to my knees. I loudly retort, “You have a game! I’m just a benchwarmer!” My hands slam against the chain-link door and fumbling with it, I hurriedly swing it open to the sound of metallically squeaking. Thank God it’s empty because Sparks is about to see sparks. I go to the closest net and hold onto the post, my stomach unable to take any more crazed power walking.

  Finn looms over me. “You’re hurting! I saw you. I see it now!” I bite my lip, cursing my lack of pain tolerance.

  Catching my breath and wincing, I look down at the blue turf and strive to sound nonchalant, as well as to not gasp out loud. “It’s not bad.”

  “I can see it on your face!”

  Shaking my head, dismissing his claim, I say, “You didn’t even ask me. You just yanked me from playing.”

  “It’s my job as coach to look out for my players and to do what’s best for the team.”

  Still grasping the post, I shift to look at him. His hands are on his hips, his sunglasses are on top of his head, and a frown is on his beautiful lips.

  Focus, Beckett.

  With a cold smile, I seethe, “Congratulations. Job well done. When my boyfriend reappears, tell him to give me a call because God knows I’ve been calling him for days, but he won’t return my calls! I wonder why? Oh, yeah. He spent time with his good friends, Jack Daniels and Jim Beam. Those bastards.”

  Finn clenches his fists and yells, “You fucking took off!”

  “For Eden! She’s dying, Finn!”

  He shakes his head; his brown eyes are dark and piercing, even in the late afternoon sun. “You still went down there for Greg Rodwell.”

  Steady enough to let go of the post, I angrily cross my arms. “Yeah, I did. He needed a friend. Don’t you through your parents’ divorce?”

  He grimly laughs and takes a step towards me. “That’s funny because the one person I need isn’t there for me when I need her.” His sarcastic smile drops and he growls, “Instead, she’s off with another man in another state doing who in the hell knows what with him!”

  I gape at him in horror. “You think I went down there to cheat on you when his sister is in the hospital? How sick is that?”

  Taking another step, he says, “Grief does a lot of shit to people. Did he cry and beg you to take his pain away? And the only way to do make him feel better was to fall on his dick, right?” I blink at him in shock, unable to fully comprehend what Finn just said to me. I can’t believe his jealousy is back, and so much worse, even after what Rod told him. What I told him.

  Swallowing hard, hot tears spring to my eyes as he icily glares at me. I cry, “No! I wouldn’t do that! He’s not my boyfriend!”

  “Are you sure? Because you act like he fucking is! You’ll do anything for him, no damn questions, but I have to beg you to spend time with me, to move in with me, to make love to me!”

  “Are you serious? Have you forgotten last week after decorating? I was begging you!”

  He derisively scoffs, “Wow! Once!”

  “Finn! I only want you! I’m not in love with anyone else!” Tentatively, I move closer to him, which seems to put him on the defensive because he steps back as his hand goes to his mouth.

  Knowing he wants to say something, but is withholding, I hesitantly ask, “What?”

  His fingers tightly grip both sides of his jaw and then fall. Finn’s eyes blaze as he roars, “I know you’re fucking in love with him!”

  I gasp, almost falling over, staring at him in utter astonishment as the tears trickle from my eyes. I don’t understand where he’s getting this!

  I manage to whisper, “How could you say that?”

  Finn swallows and glances over at the baseball field as he calmly asks, “How could you do that to me?”

  “I’m not in love with him!” My shoulders heave as I lean my elbow on my arm that’s holding my stomach. We have to be drawing some kind of attention in our red T-shirts, especially since I still have my red cap on. Maybe people think my coach really is a stickler for his players making it to first base.

  As I brush away my tears with my free hand, Finn whips his head back to me, snarling through his teeth, “Don’t lie to me!” When I look up, he cocks his head, his tone suddenly the eye of the storm. “When did it happen? Did you even think of what it would do to me?”

  “Nothing happened!”

  His brown eyes become black as he evenly probes, “How many times did you fuck him? Huh?”

  Holy shit!

  “Finn, I didn’t!”

  As I sob, he’s in my face again, roughly breathing down on me, but still deceptively subdued. “Once? Twice? Or did you lose count?”

  “Zero!” My hand flies up to my mouth to keep from screaming or puking. I feel like doing both.

  His ambush doesn’t stop there as his voice starts to rise. “Did he make you come? Did you at least fantasize it was me giving it to you? Did he knock you up?”

  “You prick!” On impulse, I shove his chest with both of my hands as hard as I can, but he doesn’t budge, even though I caught him off guard by my outburst. “I didn’t fucking cheat on you, Finnigan! And if I ever get pregnant, it’s yours! No one else’s!” Panting, I glare at him. “You’ve been lying to me when you told me you wanted us to be honest with each other! You might as well have been cheating on me!”

  He throws a hand out and shouts, “I wasn’t trying to hurt you!”

  I indignantly push on his extended arm. “You did! So, what do you have to say about all these damn lies?”

  Finn leans his chest on my arm and snaps, “Lies? You want to talk about lies? I know you are lying to me!”

  “I’ve told you everything!”

  He shakes his head, not breaking his intense glower. “Huh-uh. Morgan told me you might not be able to get pregnant.” Oh. I can’t see him laugh. It’ll kill me.

  I back away from Finn until I bump into the net. “What the hell does that matter to you? That’s why I never told you. It’s not a big deal and doesn’t apply to your life, really. So, go ahead and laugh.” Wrapping my arms around my stomach, I cry like a damn baby, which is a mocking commentary to the situation, and I wait for him to do a happy dance.

  Surprisingly, his voice isn’t quite as hard. “Why would I laugh? I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Right. Now you’re lying again.” I turn and aimlessly walk along the net, trailing my fingers over the leathery top as I hurriedly dry my face with the heel of my other hand. I know he’s following me, so I waveringly go on, “I didn’t tell you because after you told me you didn’t want kids, I kind of felt it was pointless to mention it. It’s not an absolute anyway.” Louder and more resolutely, I shout to the tennis court, “Your lie is a whole different level of wrong! You told me you’d never do it again, but you are!” When I get to the end of the net, I spin around and he’s right there, as I predicted. “You lied to my face! I trusted you, Finn!” He starts to speak, but I say, “And then you broke my damn heart by announcing to everyone on live TV that you’re jumping the fucking bridge again!”

  He snaps, “You didn’t break my heart by going down there? I had a cabin for us! Time away! Just the two of us, something we desperately need, but no! You were with him! Do you know what that fucking did to me? It brought me to the damn brink!”

  Unexpectedly thrown by his statement, I frenziedly ask, “The brink of what?”

  His hands sail into his already-messy hair, jostling his sunglasses. “Of losing my fucking mind! All I could do was think about what you were doing with Rodwell, if you were giving yourself to him!” He looks away from me and caustically inhales. It’s quiet between us as I star
e at the side of his handsome face with his hands still in his hair, waiting for one of us to start again. Unpredictably, he softly adds, “Giving him what I thought was mine.”

  I scornfully retort, “No, he didn’t touch my vagina.”

  Returning his suddenly sorrowful gaze to mine, he drops his arms. His brown eyes are burning as he softly says, “I meant your heart, Becks.” It’s now that I realize I haven’t heard him call me Becks in days. Actually, he hasn’t called me anything because I haven’t heard from him in days. Period.

  Staring at each other as if we’re trying to win a contest, the tears stream down my cheeks and I make no effort to hide them anymore. On the contrary, his eyes are tear free. Does he ever cry? What in the hell would make him lose it if he didn’t when he thought I was breaking up with him a few weeks ago?

  He finally breaks our stand-off by whispering, “Your heart’s mine and I don’t plan on giving it back to you. I won’t even let you steal it from me to give it to someone else.”

  “It is yours. I tell you this all the time. It has been and always will be, but I’m not going to have you acting like a jealous beast anymore. You’ve got to stop it.”

  “That’s why you deserve so much better than me.” He inhales and slips a hand back into his hair, making his hair stand up even more over his sunglasses. “I’m sorry for being a total dick.”

  My pursed lips threaten to smile. “Yeah, you are a dick. We’ve established that on several occasions.”

  Unsmiling, he says, “But I have to admit, I’m still pissed off for missing our chance to go away together.”

  “I am sorry about that. I feel bad that you lost your deposit.”

  He shakes his head and shoves both of his hands into his pockets. “It’s not about the money.”

  I roll my bottom lip under my teeth before saying, “If I would’ve known, I wouldn’t have gone to North Carolina, but to tell you the truth since I’m being honest,” Finn glances past me and frowns, “I didn’t want to go with you after I found out about your extracurricular activities.”

  He slides his gaze back to mine. “I’m sorry for that.”

  “You’re sorry, but you’re still going to do it.”

  His eyes are wide and seemingly truthful. “I want to.”

  I nod and sniff. “At least you’re finally being honest with me.” I take a shaky breath. “Do whatever you want. I can’t stop you,” I utter in resignation.

  I fold. Finn Wilder wins.

  “Yes, you can. You know you own me, Becks.”

  As tempting as that is to be able to take advantage of his vulnerability, I shake my head and cross my arms again as I look out to the park beyond the tennis court.

  We’re quiet and the clanging crack of a bat can be heard amongst the sound of cars on Blanton Avenue. Finn acutely inhales before he asks, “Where do we stand?”

  I cautiously ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He’s also guarded, asking, “Are you going to renew your ultimatum regarding my jumping?”

  I exasperatedly sigh. “No. I told you to do whatever you want. I’m not going to stop you anymore. It’s your life.”

  My gaze falls to the blue turf and he angles his head down, catching my attention. “But I’m sharing it with you, Becks.”

  Feeling the tears building again, I glance at the chain link behind him. “Not really. You’ve been hiding so much from me. I feel like I don’t even know you.”

  From my peripheral, I see him peer at the ground. “I’m still me. I just didn’t want you to worry so much.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  Lifting his head, he puts his hands on his hips and lowly says, “I struggled for these past few days.”

  “So did I. Your lie rocked my world. I thought I could trust you.”

  “You can. I should’ve told you I wanted to skydive again.”

  And there it is.

  “So, that’s what you’ve been doing?”

  Finn eyes me warily and whispers, “Yes.”

  Slightly irritated again for hearing him admit the truth, I ask, “For how long?”

  Cringing, he drops his head. “Since May of last year.”

  “What?”

  He slowly raises his head and takes a deep breath. “It wasn’t a lot…at first. I was feeling stressed and I just wanted to let go.”

  “Can’t you take up a hobby like painting or bird watching?”

  A slow smirk tugs at his full lips and I look away, saying, “Well, you’ve been doing a bang-up job with drinking.”

  “Skydiving is different. It’s amazing, Becks. I’d love to take you up with me.”

  I can’t shake my head fast enough. “I don’t think so.”

  “You’d like it.”

  Not wanting to think about jumping out of a plane, I instead ask, “Why were you feeling so stressed?”

  Finn shrugs as he watches passing cars. “Just a lot of things.”

  “Me?” Definitely.

  He corrects me, “My limitations involving you.”

  I swipe at the new, rogue tears. “I’m sorry I’m fucking up your life.”

  “Baby, you’re not. You are my life. I shouldn’t have lost my faith in us. In you. I’m so sorry I did.”

  “Why did you assume I was cheating on you? I don’t understand.”

  “Because I know I have problems and my shortcomings are hurting you.”

  “No, your distrust, lying and jealousy are hurting me. You don’t trust me when you’ve been less than truthful about something major that could kill you. Accusing me of cheating on you is outrageous, Finn. I would never do that. If I didn’t want to be with you, I’d tell you. I wouldn’t sneak around behind your back. How do I know if you’re lying to me still?”

  With a hint of annoyance, he says, “I’m not.”

  “The distrust and deceit hurt. My brain wants to believe you, but the heart I gave you is scared. I’m not sure how to move on.”

  Finn grabs onto the net, clutching it tightly, curling his fingers through the squared holes. He dejectedly mumbles, “Fuck. You’re not leaving me, are you?”

  I bite my lip so I can concentrate on that sting instead of the one in my heart. I want to easily forgive him and forget, but I need this to not happen again, too. “No, but I need to be alone this week. I need some space to acclimate myself to your secret hobby and jarring announcement. I also have to concentrate on Morgan’s wedding without added stress.”

  He reluctantly nods at the ground. “I figured as much that when you came back you wouldn’t want me around.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want you around, it’s more that I don’t want you to go. Now I’m afraid to watch you walk out the door, not knowing what you’re really going to be doing.”

  He raises his head. “Becks, I’d tell you from now on, but then you’d freak out.”

  “It’s such a Catch-22 now. I don’t know if I really want to know even though I’m mad because I didn’t know.”

  “I know.” Finn ruefully smiles, but nods.

  Watching a bird picking at a twig on the ground, I say, “I want to trust you again.”

  “I’ll make it happen. I promise you.” The sincerity in his voice compels me to look at him and we again stare at each other in silence.

  Extraordinarily overwhelmed with feelings that I can’t even grasp, I blink and take a cleansing breath before saying, “After Morgan’s wedding, we’ll talk some more. I’ll be home Sunday afternoon if you’re not working.”

  “Okay.” His gaze falls and mine goes with it. “Is your stomach any better?”

  “Yeah.” It’s my heart that hurts.

  Also taking in a deep breath, Finn’s tone then becomes more authoritative, “Well, as your coach, I still don’t think you should be playing yet. You can play in our next game in two weeks.”

  I glance up at him. “And what does my boyfriend say?”

  Finn anxiously licks his lips before clearing his throat, and his voice
is gentler. “As your boyfriend, I want you to stay with me and watch the game. Cheer on your team.”

  “Alright.” I can do that. Undecided of what else to say to him, I cautiously walk past him to the gate and he easily falls into step next to me, grabbing my arm. I stop and peer up at him, perplexed. “What?”

  His eyes descend to my lips and then slowly wander back up to my eyes. “I really need to kiss you, Becks.” I want to, but I’m still so hurt.

  “Do you?”

  He quickly nods; his eyes glitter with what I hope is honesty. “Yes.”

  “Are you telling me the truth?”

  He tilts his head and intently looks into my eyes. “You know I am.”

  “No, I don’t. That’s the whole problem.”

  “I would never lie about how I feel about you.”

  I’m lost in his stare. “And how do you feel? About me?”

  “You know how I feel about you.”

  I slightly shake my head, still entranced, and hating that I am. “I don’t know if I do anymore.”

  “I’m still the same. I’ve never lied to you about that.” His gaze has a magnetic pull on mine and I can’t even blink.

  “I hope not.”

  His eyes do another circuit and he gruffly asks, “Are you going to let me kiss you?”

  My eyes automatically go to his mouth. I really want to kiss him, too…but I can’t. Finally dragging my gaze back up to his hopeful one, I say, “Maybe Sunday.”

  “Then I’ll tell you how I feel Sunday. It’s only fair.”

  I slowly shake my head with a contrite smile. “You don’t play fair.”

  He leans closer and says, “Neither do you, but I know I’ve met my match.” His eyes speculatively drift over my face. “Or my ruin.”

  “I think you’re doing that all by yourself.”

  He regretfully smirks. “Yeah. You might be right.”

  Finally, I blink and look down, and he steps back, giving me space to breathe again. We start walking back to the field close together, yet feeling so far apart.

  Will I get over this? I can’t even hold his hand or kiss him. I suppose I’m making a bigger deal out of it than anyone else would, but I trusted him to not jump out of planes or off bridges anymore, and he gave me his word, or so I thought. Maybe I am being unreasonable, but if he can’t be rational about me helping Rod, then I get to be irrational about something, too.