Chasing the Wild Sparks Read Online Free PDF Page B

standing right behind me. This is past awkward. Why is Finn doing this? I try to pull away from him, but he doesn’t let me, just like with our hands earlier. Why is he suddenly so possessive? He’s never been jealous before, especially of Greg Rodwell.
    I push on his chest and he steps back. “What are you doing?” I quietly ask.
    “What?” He looks at me and then in Rod’s direction. He’s truly jealous of Rod?
    “What are you trying to prove?” I hear Finnatics yelling his name off in a distance, not to mention the protests of Rod’s bladder, and I know my time with Finn is extremely limited.
    His dark eyes fall to mine. “I don’t have anything to prove. I just want to kiss you.”
    “You’re never like this, Finn.”
    “Maybe I should be.” That’s a switch. I gaze at him suspiciously before I step forward and give him a quick kiss on his full lips.
    “Behave,” I say into his ear.
    “Never,” he swiftly husks into mine. He links his fingers with mine and I smile at him as I let go of them. Turning, I walk through the ankle-high grass over to Rod.
    “Let’s go, chickadee.” He slings his arm around my shoulders and pulls me forward. I glance back at Finn, who has his hands on his hips and a look in his eyes that I’ve never seen before.
    Yes. Tonight we really do need to talk.
     
     

 
    CHAPTER 3
     
     
     
    “Sorry.”
    “For?”
    “This: What the fuck is wrong with your boyfriend, Hadders?”
    “I’m not sure what you mean,” I mumble noncommittally, staring out my side window at the streaming scenery of trees and sloping hillsides as we head north on I-95 in Rod’s massive, gray Chevy truck. I don’t even know what’s wrong with my boyfriend; therefore, I can’t even begin to explain it to someone else, let alone Rod.
    Unexpectedly, Rod pounds his hand on the steering wheel, compelling me to jump for the second time today. I swiftly look away from the window and over to his face, while he glances from the road to me. He says, “He was acting like one of those crazy sons of bitches that you see on an episode of Hoarders . You know, the one who can’t let go of an old sock because their dog gave birth on it.”
    “That’s the second time today you called Finn a son of a bitch.”
    “I did, but the first time I called Wilder a son of a bitch it was a compliment.” I gape at him and his mouth drops open. “What? It was!” Rod throws a hand up in exasperation. “I said the bastard was good-looking!”
    “And now you’re calling him a bastard, not to mention you called me an old sock.”
    He snickers. “Oh, yeah. You’re a short, old sock.”
    My forehead wrinkles and I eye him disdainfully. “Thanks a lot, jackass.” He crazily giggles until we lapse into silence for nearly half a minute.
    Precipitously, he looks rapidly from the road, over to me, out to the road and then back to me again. “Wilder didn’t want me taking you home. Why? It’s not because of my driving. What’s the real reason?” I’m sure his driving is, in fact, truly part of the reason for Finn’s lack of enthusiasm of my riding home with Rod.
    “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me.”
    “Well, something was bothering him besides…” He rolls his eyes. “Sorry…his desperate need to fuck you.”
    “Gregory.” Despite the sudden thrill rushing through my body at the thought of making love to Finn, I sigh again and my eyes drift from the view to focus on Rod’s face. Like Finn, he has brown eyes, but Finn’s are darker, more expressive, and absolutely spellbinding. When I stare into them, I can almost see his entire soul. Almost. I know there’s a part of Finn that even I can’t get to, a fragment that he keeps locked tight from the world.
    Rod’s brown eyes, on the other hand, are habitually filled with mischief and amusement. From his clean-shaven face to his dimples, Greg Rodwell really is, himself, a handsome son of a bitch. Not of the same caliber as my Finn, but with his