Unspoken Memories (Unspoken Series) (13 page)

I see Matt up ahead and I begin to speed up my pace,
catching up to him. I’m thinking he’s going to run the rest of it with me, but
I was wrong. Once he spots me at his side, he gives me a smile, and speeds up
again. Realizing that he’s mocking me flares my temper.

All right buddy, you want to play these games? It’s on.

I start to speed up and pass him, feeling better now that
I’ve given him a taste of his own medicine. But then he catches up to me, and
next thing I know; it feels like a normal run with Matt all over again. He
always does this to me when we go on our usual runs. He’ll let me pull ahead of
him a bit, allowing me to catch my breath. Then he’ll speed up making me follow
him.

I slowly start to feel that we’re both running faster and
faster. Since there aren’t many people left on this part of the course, we are
able to weave by them with speed. Then I see a sign that says Mile 4.

Mile 4!

I get so excited because I know it’s almost over. I could
easily handle two more miles. I can do this, I think to myself.

It continues with Matt and me running side by side for the
next mile, and by the time the last mile comes up I keep thinking, not much to
go. Then I see a sign that says Mile 6 on the side of the road, but I don’t see
a finish line anywhere in sight. I thought he said this thing was only 6 miles?

As I run past the sign, confused, I start to slow down
thinking maybe we’re just supposed to stop. Comprehending that we are not
anywhere near done when there are people still running around me, I keep going.

What the heck? I thought this race was only 6 miles. He lied
to me, but I keep running. After another minute, I finally hear the crowd and
we turn a corner, and I see the finish line up ahead. I pushed my body to the
limit before the 6th mile mark thinking that I was done, so I am beat at this
point. My body feels like it’s ready to collapse and I haven’t even finished
yet. My legs are burning, wanting to give out. My lungs are screaming for air,
and I want to give up.

I can see the crowd roaring at us and I turn my head
slightly to look at Matt before he smiles at me. Next thing I know he’s
speeding up ahead of me, leaving me behind by a couple of feet right before he
crosses the finish line. There’s no way I can say that it was a close call
because I even saw him cross ahead of me.

Fuck! He’s beaten me and now I’m stuck cooking dinner for
his ass.

All that is going through my mind right now is that I want
to strangle the hell out of Matt for signing me up to run this thing. I walk
over to the side to get a bottled water that volunteers are handing out to the
racers who have finished, relieved that at least I get something out of this.
Even if
it
is only water.

I take up a spot to the side, twist off the cap of the
water, and take a huge gulp out of it. I see Matt come up to stand in front of
me, and he’s beaming from ear to ear.

Right now I want to smack that smile off his face.

“By the way beautiful, my favorite dish is enchilada
casserole. Try not to burn it; I
would
actually like to enjoy it,” he
says as he walks with the crowd towards the exit.

The only thing that keeps me from chucking my bottled water
at him is that I desperately need it to quench my thirst.

WHEN WE GOT back from the race, I
headed straight to my room. I was so tired that I wanted to take a nap without
even taking a shower. To say my body was worn out was a bit of an
understatement.

I throw myself on the bed, letting my body sink into the
mattress. As I am lying there, beat from the morning, I hear Matt walk in.

“Hey beautiful. You okay?” He sounds concerned.

Being upset about this morning I say, “Leave me alone Matt,
you’re not my favorite person right now.”

He chuckles and climbs into bed next to me. I’m already
facing in his direction, with my hands tucked under my pillow. He looks at me,
while I shoot him with a glare.

With his usual mocking smile, he says, “Don’t tell me you’re
a sore loser?”

“It’s not about the losing. It’s about you lying. You said
it was only six miles. According to the six mile sign that I passed, it was obviously
more,” I bitterly respond.

He shrugs the one shoulder that isn’t lying against the bed.
“Okay, technically it was 6.2 miles. I didn’t think that .2 miles would be much
of a difference to you.”

I roll my eyes and turn over, wanting to ignore him completely.
I quickly feel him grab my body and pull me against him into a spoon position.
He tucks his muscled forearm under my head and I feel his other arm that is
wrapped around my ribcage tighten, pulling me closer against his chest. I’m so
tired at this point that I lie there and take in his warmth. My mind
immediately forgets why I’m even upset at him, and I fall asleep.

When I awaken a couple of hours later, I’m alone again in my
bed. He must have left while I was still sleeping, but his smell is still on my
sheets. I lay there taking it in, wanting to absorb as much of it as I can. I
don’t know why he came to lay with me, it’s just another thing to add to my
list of questions when it comes to Matt.

I’M STANDING IN the kitchen the next
afternoon reading a recipe on how to make Enchilada Casserole that I got from
the Internet. I watched several YouTube videos, but it looked easier to watch
someone else make it, than trying it myself. Matt always makes cooking look
easy, when in reality it isn’t, as I’m now learning.

As much as I’m dreading making this stupid thing, I did lose
fair and square. So I have to keep my side of the bet and cook dinner for Matt.
At this point I’ve got sauce all over the stove, counter, and myself. I think I
even have some in my hair. Matt had wanted chicken instead of ground beef.
Although, I didn’t have to cook it since I was able to buy a rotisserie chicken
to shred. Another plus to recipes online is that they come with a list of
ingredients to buy, because I would have died trying to figure out what to put
in this thing.

All of a sudden my mind goes blank.

Matt is standing over the stove, with a spatula in his
hand. He’s staring at a pan with eggs in it. Although he looks to be only
twelve or thirteen, he has apparently hit puberty already. He’s taller than I
am and his voice is deep.

“Now what do I do?” he asks.

I look at him, saying, “You have to let the eggs cook a
little, then you begin to stir them around slowly.”

He goes to try to stir the eggs, but I stop him by placing
my hand on his wrist. “Give it a couple of seconds. If not, you’re just going
to be stirring around liquid.”

He starts to look impatient and I laugh at him. “Okay,
silly. Go ahead and stir away, find out for yourself. These are your eggs, you
can cook them anyway you want.”

He starts stirring with force and it spills over the pan.
We hear a sizzle from it hitting the flame, and some of it has fallen on his
hand, burning him a bit.

“See, that’s why you have to let it cook a little, or
else that could happen as well,” I say, still chuckling.

He lets out a groan. “I don’t know why I have to learn to
cook. Isn’t that what women are for?” he says.

My lips go into a frown. I cheer up and say, “Let me tell
you a secret. If you know how to cook, you’ll have girls falling over you.”

His face brightens up with a smile and he
enthusiastically goes back to his task.

I stand there smiling at him, beaming with pride.

“Abigail!” I hear Matt shout my name and it startles me out
of the memory.

I look around the kitchen and it’s full of smoke. The pan in
front of me is bubbling, with tiny geysers of sauce shooting everywhere.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry,” I say, embarrassed about the mess.

Matt starts turning off the stove. He moves pans to cool on
the other burners that are turned off. He reaches for the dishtowel on the
sink, and starts cleaning. I reach for another and start helping him, mortified
at what happened.

As I bend down to the floor, I stare in disgust at the mess.
I’m so disappointed in myself that I start to tear up. I’ve even managed to
screw this up; I can’t ever get anything right. The tears start to trickle down
my cheeks causing me to sniffle and Matt hears. He bends down to pull me up and
pulls my chin up to look at him. “Why are you crying, beautiful?”

I shake my head and duck my eyes as I try to help wipe the
counter down.

“Come here,” Matt says as he pulls me into a hug. I try to
push him away because I really don’t want his pity at this moment, but he
doesn’t let me. He pulls me tighter against his body, holding me tight, rubbing
my back with his hand. I finally give up and let him comfort me.

I sniffle again, turning my face into the crook of his neck,
and say, “I’m so sorry; I’ve screwed up the one thing you were looking forward
to.”

He keeps rubbing his hand up and down my back, making me
feel better. “Shhh, don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry. It’s not that bad. It’s
the fact that you at least tried that counts.”

Not happy with myself, I shake my head. He always knows what
to say or do to make me feel better. This is the only side of Matt I know. Not
the asshole side of him. He’s never shown that to me.

“It’s not completely ruined, you just burned the tortilla
and the sauce, that’s all. You’re halfway done anyways,” he says into my hair.

I take a deep sigh in defeat.

Finally calm, he kisses my head and lets me go, looking at
the counter. “How about I help you finish up? That way I can make sure you
don’t kill the dish completely, giving us food poisoning,” he says chuckling.

His comment hurts my feelings all over again. I can’t
believe he thinks my cooking would give us food poisoning. I wonder if he’s
always thought this? If he did, then why in the hell did he tell me to cook for
him?

I hit him on the chest with the dishrag I’m holding and
growl at him. He laughs harder and just kisses me on the cheek. Taking the
dishrag from me, he uses it to finish cleaning up the stove.

While Matt takes over the cooking on the stove, he instructs
me on how to do most of the layering and it goes smoothly from there. His instructions
seem much easier than trying to read or watch how to make it. Fifteen minutes
later, we are done, and he is grabbing plates so he can serve our portions.

Although dinner ends up turning out delicious, it’s only
because Matt came and saved the day. I know if he hadn’t taken over, it would
have been a total disaster. We would have been eating take-out right now. I
don’t know what I would do without him and I really don’t want to find out.

ANOTHER WEEK GOES by with Matt and I
acting normal as can be. We both eventually get into a routine when it comes to
running. We go out every other day, but now instead of an easy 3-5 miles, he’s
pushing me 6-8 miles. I would have thought that I wouldn’t be able to hang, but
the look of pride from Matt when we’re done makes me finish. Plus, him making
us pancakes afterwards really helps too.

On the second week, Trey is scheduled to arrive back, so
naturally Matt went to the airport to pick him up when his plane landed. I
wanted to stay home and catch up with one of the reality shows on TV so I
stayed behind.

Hearing Matt and Trey walk through the door, I sit up
looking for them and see the confused shock on Trey’s face.

“What the fuck happened to the couches?” he says, turning to
Matt.

“Abigail didn’t like the old ones, so she ordered new ones.”

“What was wrong with the old ones? They had history and
mileage on them. Especially with the girls.” I’m pretty sure he added the last
line just to disgust me.

I scrunch my nose, trying really hard not to picture Matt
with a girl on the couch. Now I’m
really
happy I got rid of those
suckers. My new couches were
not
going to have any of Matt’s mileage
with any other girls. Actually I shouldn’t say that, the way he claims to whore
himself around, only time will tell how soon that would happen.

Trey walks over to the small couch and takes a seat, moving
around making himself comfortable. After a couple of seconds he shrugs his
shoulders. “They’re cool, I guess. Have you guys broken them in yet?” he says,
waggling his eyebrows.

My jaw drops in shock, remembering what almost
did
happen when they got delivered.

“No and it isn’t going to happen either,” Matt snaps at Trey
from behind me.

Well, that answers the question about me ever getting a
chance with Matt on the couch.

Trey chuckles at his response and changes the subject. “So
you guys up for the Brewhouse tonight? I want a good beer and you can’t find a
good fucking brew back home.”

“What’s the Brewhouse?” I ask, looking at Matt.

Shocked, Trey looks at Matt then back at me. “He didn’t take
you to the Brewhouse?”

I shake my head. “The only time I got out was to go for a
run or the races. Oh and the Market, that was fun.”

He looks back at Matt with his eyes wide open. “Fuck, dude.
Aren’t you being a little over-protective? When you said you weren’t having any
parties or anyone over because of her, I didn’t know you were also keeping her
prisoner.”

“I’m not keeping her prisoner, fucker. I’m just keeping her
safe,” he says, and then continues. “I also didn’t take Abigail out to a lot of
public places because I didn’t want her to feel overwhelmed. She hasn’t
complained.”

Yeah, I didn’t complain because I was scared shitless of
going out in fear that Bill would find me. I didn’t want to risk it. So being
at home was fine with me.

“What the fuck have you guys been doing besides running
then?” His brow shoots straight up in curiosity.

“Not what you’re thinking,” I shoot back at him.

I really hope he can’t see the disappointment in my face,
wishing that a lot more
had
happened. Maybe I should have walked around
the house naked while Trey wasn’t home. Give Matt the opportunity to see what
he was missing out on. He was obviously showing me what I couldn’t have every
morning, driving me insane.

“Then now that I’m back you’re not keeping her cooped up.
We’re going to the Brewhouse, and she’s coming with us,” Trey states as he
stands up, walking to the door.

I stand up to follow him and notice Matt dropping his
shoulders in defeat. I’m glad, because by the excitement on Trey’s face about
this place, I really want to go now.

We all piled into Matt’s car to make the drive over to this
Brewhouse.

On the drive, Trey takes this time to tell me it’s a
brewery, slash restaurant. It’s supposedly the team’s favorite hangout, next to
the house, of course.

According to Trey, a lot of the guys on the team weren’t
happy the partying was halted the minute Trey and Matt got a new roommate.
Their whole “Bros before hoes” motto got thrown out the window the minute I
became a permanent resident. That disappointed a lot of them.

That only made me laugh.

Matt cursed at Trey to keep his mouth shut, making me giggle
again. Of course, Trey ignored him and continued on. He informed me that Matt’s
special
friends were even more upset, thinking they had competition now,
even though they had no idea who the new roommate was. According to Trey, Matt
kept reassuring his friends that he wasn’t getting any of those special
benefits, but they didn’t believe him. That remark only made me gawk at Trey. I
really hoped he believed us when we said there was nothing going on.

We finally pull into the parking lot and it looks like a
typical laid-back brewery. I can’t help it; I get excited that I’m finally
going to get to see another part of Matt’s life. We get out of the car and Trey
throws his arm around my neck, leading the way to the entrance.

As we walk in, the hostess automatically recognizes Matt
and, without pause, leads us through the restaurant. I notice that even though
there are plenty of open tables in the middle, she keeps walking until she
comes to practically the back of the building. Once we’ve reached what looks
like a huge wooden bench table in the corner, she sets the menus down and walks
away. This table is huge and could easily seat about ten, but it’s just the
three of us so I’m really confused as to why she would give us this table?

Matt sees my confused face. “It’s our usual table. It’s
unofficially reserved for us,” he says with a wink as he climbs into the seated
bench.

I take the spot next to him, and Trey climbs in after me. I
wonder why we are facing away from the crowd, but my question gets answered
when I see the flat screen TVs mounted against the wall. No wonder they like
this spot. It’s facing three different TVs with several behind us for the other
side to easily watch.

I look up to notice that of course the TVs are set to
different sports channels, showcasing several different games. Uhhh, boys and
their sports, even here I can’t escape it. As I’m done rolling my eyes, I
notice our waitress show up with two pints of beer already in her hands,
lightly slamming them down on the table. She stands to the side of our table,
with her hands on her hips.

She stares directly at me as she says, “Is she gonna want
anything or is she too prissy for beer and going to stick to water?”

I
was
going to ask for water, but only because I’m
really thirsty right now. Not because I’m prissy. I drink beer.

Matt pushes his pint of beer over to me and tells her, “Just
bring me another, Carol.”

She huffs at him and walks away with her lips pinched. What
the hell got into her pants, but my question is quickly answered. “She’s just
pissed ‘cause she’s one of Matt’s special friends,” Trey whispers into my ear.

Now I know exactly what got into her pants and I don’t blame
her for not being happy. I turn around and look at her wondering what I’m
missing compared to all these girls that he’s had. She’s standing at the bar,
speaking to the bartender, but looking in our direction. I’m pretty sure she’s
shit talking us right now. I know I would.

Or maybe just me, by the daggers her eyes are shooting
directly at me.

Matt is staring at the flat screen, but says to me, “Ignore
her. She’ll get over it. If not, she also knows where the door is.”

I can’t take it anymore and now I’m irritated. I snap at
him, “No wonder you kept me prisoner in the house. Otherwise, I could easily
run into one of your friends with benefits.”

Trey’s loud laughter stops Matt from responding. “She’s got
you there, man. I’m pretty sure
everywhere
we go she’s bound to run into
them.
You
do have a friend for everyday of the week, remember?” he says
teasingly.

Now I’m reminded of what Matt had said during
that
conversation.

Matt slams him with a glare that could kill, but it only
makes Trey laugh again. I laugh along with him, making me feel a little better.
Matt ignores us with a groan and Carol shows up with his beer, slamming this
one on the table a little harder before walking away.

I laugh at her little attitude, not blaming her. I pick up
my beer and take a sip. Half an hour later, a couple more guys show up. One of
them is with his girlfriend, making Trey and Matt give the usual introductions.
I start to feel a bit uncomfortable not knowing what to expect, but they easily
start talking about everyday life, making me feel comfortable again.

Kelly, the girlfriend of Matt and Trey’s friend David, ends
up being really nice and starts making conversation with me.

Kelly is a hispanic little thing, about 5’3, with dark brown
wavy hair, almost down to her waist. She has pretty, light brown almond shaped
eyes and a very friendly personality. She becomes an ally with me against the
guys and I take notice how much her boyfriend David adores her. He smiles every
so often at her and would easily defend her when needed.

It reminds me a lot of how Matt acts with me. The only
difference is that they are obviously in a relationship, and we are not. It
almost makes me jealous that I didn’t have that, but I have to remember what
happens to the girls in Matt’s life when they want more from him.

“So Abigail, what’s it like being a famous supermodel?”
Kelly finally asks the dreaded question.

Shrugging my shoulders, I say, “I don’t know, I don’t
remember,” before taking a sip of my beer.

The guy on the other side of Kelly looks confused before
asking, “What do you mean you don’t remember?”

“I had an accident and woke up with amnesia.”

“What, really? So you don’t remember what’s it’s like being
a supermodel?” Kelly asks.

“I don’t remember anything of my past before the day I woke
up. It really sucks, but I can’t miss something I don’t remember.” I shrug my
shoulders again trying to make it seem normal.

I’m starting to feel really uncomfortable with the
conversation, but Matt reaches for my hand underneath the table, giving it a
reassuring squeeze. I look over at him and the smile he returns makes me feel
better.

“Man, that must really suck,” Kelly says looking
disappointed.

I agree.

“So how in the world did you and Matt meet?” the guy in
front of me asks.

“Actually, the only thing I could remember was Matt’s number.”

The guy draws his eyebrows down looking confused, and I
don’t blame him.

As I’m about to attempt to explain the number, Matt jumps
in. “My sister worked with Abigail once, and had given her my number in case
she couldn’t get a hold of her. Abigail was really needy and would call me when
my sister didn’t answer her phone. My number was one of the first numbers she
called hoping to remember something and we started talking.”

I don’t say anything, because at least his lie is better
than my psycho story of how I really got his number. I don’t like how he’s
emphasizing how needy I used to be. I wasn’t like that anymore, was I?

“It still doesn’t explain how she ends up living with you,
dude. Unless there’s really something else going on?” the guy says, obviously
trying to dig for gossip.

“I caught my fiancé fucking his assistant when I came home,
and I really didn’t think I needed to stick around after that. Since Matt is
technically the only person I knew after my memory loss, he was kind enough to
give me a place to stay.
No strings attached,
” I stress the last
sentence with a nasty glare for the guy to get it through his head.

“I guess I was lucky she only knew me,” Matt says lightly,
chuckling at him.

“Hell yeah, you lucky fucker,” the guy responds holding his
hand up for a high five, which Matt gives.

Kelly rolls her eyes at their action, making me laugh,
lightening the mood.

The subject gets dropped when something happens on the TV
making everybody groan in disappointment.

Three hours later, with two and a half beers in my stomach,
we are finally ready to head out. As I stand up I notice that my head feels
woozy and it’s hard for me to keep a steady line as I walk. Matt notices after
a couple of steps, wraps his arm around my waist for support, and walks me
towards the exit. On the way out I see Carol watching us from the corner of my
eye and again she is spitting daggers at me.

Once outside, we stay close to the entrance, while the guys
keep having their conversation about the upcoming season. Since I’m tired of
standing there listening to even more football talk, I try to walk to the car
and have to walk slowly since it proves a bit difficult. Next thing I know Matt
is standing right in front of me with an amused look on his face. He then picks
me up, throwing me over his shoulder, making my head spin even more as he walks
off to his car.