Unspoken Memories (Unspoken Series) (9 page)

“I see you two are getting along well,” she says, smiling.

“Who are you?”

“Abigail, I’m pretty sure you already know the answer to
that question.”

I know I do, but I’m in denial that I’m sitting here staring
at a dead person. I must be going out of my mind. Or maybe this is a side
effect of losing my mind completely.

“I can reassure you, you’re perfectly fine. I chose you
because I thought you needed each other. He’s right you know, he will protect
you at all costs, so be careful what you ask from him.”

Is she talking about Matt?

“Yes, I’m speaking of my brother. It has always been one of
his strongest characteristics to protect those he loves. Once he’s promised
something he makes sure to keep that promise, so I really hope you’ll do the
same in return.”

It takes me a moment to absorb what she’s told me and I feel
like I should say something in response, but what is there to say?

“I can’t explain to you why you’re having these memories of
mine, but I hope they will help you understand him better. Cherish them as I
once cherished making them. Promise me, Abigail. Promise you’ll be there for
him, just as he’s promised to be there for you,” she pleads.

I know I really shouldn’t make such a commitment, but deep
down inside my heart is telling me I should.

“I promise,” I almost whisper it to her.

As soon as I’m done promising, she begins to fade away, with
a smile on her face, leaving me there alone.

I sit there with the moonlight at the edge of the bed where
she was a moment ago, thinking to myself about the conversation that barely
took place. What was it supposed to mean? I lie back down and stare up at the
ceiling, hoping the darkness will drag me to sleep as it usually does.

I realize, I might not know anything about my past, but I do
know that I have a future, and if it involves Matt in my life, then so be it.

“HEY BEAUTIFUL, YOU awake yet?”

I hear Matt walking into the room, but I ignore him,
refusing to wake up. I’m still tired from not being able to sleep very well
after his sister appeared in my sleep. At least I want to believe I was
sleeping. I really doubt that if I were to repeat anything from last night to
anyone, they wouldn’t believe I wasn’t dreaming.

Still ignoring the fact that Matt is trying to wake me up, I
stay lying on my stomach with my face buried to the side of the pillow. I start
to hear the scraping of the dresser drawers opening and closing. A moment
later, I hear light footsteps walking towards the closet causing me to crack my
eyelids a bit, curious as to what Matt is doing. What I see next makes me catch
my breath and open my eyes wide wanting to take in a better view.

He’s removing the only stitch of clothing he has on, which
happens to be boxer briefs, baring his naked ass in my direction. A fine ass it
is.

I start to rake my eyes up and down his body, observing every
muscle that is facing me needing to get a better view. His back is rigidly
toned, his legs have calves that are obviously built from the running he must
do, and his arms are perfectly sculpted.

As he bends over to put on his running shorts, I continue
staring. Now there’s an ass that would give Adonis a run for his money,
perfectly round and lifted to perfection, nary a sign of cellulite in sight.

I see him start to turn his body as he begins to put his
shirt on and I automatically shut my eyes, not wanting him to catch me ogling.
Hopefully, he won’t notice the drool that is probably leaking from my mouth at
this very moment.

Suddenly I feel the blanket that was lying on top of my body
suddenly disappear, leaving me with a bitter cold to replace the warmth that
was once there. As I slightly turn my head to see what has happened, I see Matt
silently observing my ass, right before he quickly brings his hand down making
contact with it.

If I wasn’t awake before, I am now.

“What the fuck!” I yell as I turn my body to face him,
shocked and confused. Why the fuck did he just do that?

The sting is rippling through my body, sending an unexpected
tingle as I rub my sore bottom with my hand. He didn’t slap it hard, but just
enough to give my body a message. One I’m still confused about. I don’t know
whether to be upset or turned on. Right now my body is leaning towards the
latter, but I’m not going to announce that to him.

“I thought that’d get you up. Come on, the sooner we leave
the sooner we get back to eat a real breakfast,” he says, walking back towards
the closet to grab some shoes. “I washed the clothes you were wearing last
night, they’re on the bed,” he says before exiting the room, closing the door
behind him.

Where the hell is he referring to when he said we’re
leaving? He didn’t mention anything before I went to bed about going anywhere
this morning and I’m still confused, trying to make sense of what happened just
now.

Why in the world would he be staring at my ass one moment
and then slapping it the next? The curious side of me is wondering: does he
want me like I’ve wanted him? If he wanted to touch my ass, all he had to do
was ask. I would have been more than happy to let him.

Uhh, there I go again, thinking with my sex-craved mind when
it comes to Matt. Okay, I need to get my sore ass up and dressed before he
comes in here wanting to do that all over again. Because I guarantee you, this
time I would make sure I got more than just a slap on the ass.

“ARE YOU SURE you weren’t a runner
before this week?” Matt asks me.

We’re sitting on the grass in the park, done with our run
from this morning. Legs stretched out in front us, crossed at the ankles. With
our arms stretched up behind us supporting our bodies. Even though I just put
my body through a much faster pace than I normally had before, I feel relaxed
and much better than I have for the last couple of days.

Matt is all sweaty and his running shirt is soaked from
perspiration, outlining the chiseled washboard muscles lining his stomach. He
looks so sexy right now, and all I want to do is run my tongue down his neck to
lick the remaining sweat beads. I’m pretty sure he’d taste really salty, but
it’d be worth the tangy taste.

“Abigail,” I hear Matt say, breaking me from my thoughts.

Remembering that he asked me a question, I have to
concentrate to remember what he asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I was a runner in the past.
It’s really hard to say what I did or didn’t do before the accident. The little
information I know about myself is what is posted on the Internet, and we both
know how accurate that can be,” I say sarcastically.

Matt cocks his head to the side, focusing on me intensely. “It’s
just strange that you were able to keep up with me pretty well towards the end.
At first I was thinking that I might have to take it easy on you, but you kept
pace, so I decided to speed up. Maybe it’s those long legs of yours,” he says
smiling, looking down the length of my legs.

The heat of his stare as his eyes run down my legs sends a
chill through my body, making me shiver.

“Is that good or bad?” I finally say with a chuckle. I find
it amusing we’re both sitting here obviously checking each other out, but
trying to ignore it just the same.

The smile he returns makes my heart skip and makes my body
turn to mush. “It’s good. Which means I don’t have to take it easy on you
anymore, and we can get in some good runs.”

I’m sitting there, staring at him and my eyes are now
focused on his tattoo. It’s intriguing and I’m unable to take my eyes off it. “Matt,
what made you get an angel’s wing?” I ask, still focused on the intricate
design on his arm.

He looks down at it, focusing on it for a couple of seconds,
then looks up at me. His eyes look glazed and by the way his lashes are rapidly
blinking, I know he’s now fighting back tears.

“I got it in honor of my sister after she died. I like to
think that she’s my angel looking down at me and the tattoo is a way of me
keeping a piece of her close to me,” he says, his voice raspy and almost a
whisper.

I feel my chest tighten up and a lump starts to form in my
throat as I fight back tears that are threating to flow down my eyes. Matt
looks back down to it, he looks just as affected as I feel as he focuses on his
bicep.

He takes one last deep breath, and then shakes his head before
he stands up, slapping my feet with his hand as he does. “Come on. With a run
like that you deserve some pancakes.” That distracts me from my solemn
thoughts.

“You know, with the way you guys are feeding me, I’m going
to blow up like a balloon. I don’t think I got this body from eating the way I
have the last couple of days.”

Walking in the direction of the parked car he looks back at
me, with a grin. “Then you’ll just have to run more now, won’t you?” he states
as he keeps walking, leaving me to follow him.

I could think of another activity that would accelerate my
heart rate and make me sweat….

I’m relieved when we make it back to the car, since my
stomach is starting to growl. As he starts it, I swear every time I get in, I
get excited all over again. Just sitting in it while it’s running drives me
insane. The power of the engine vibrating beneath my body is enough to push me
to come right there in the seat.

I don’t know whose ride I crave more each day, the owner or
the car? It’s a tough toss up sometimes. Being that I’ve ridden in the car
already, I would have to say the owner is next in line.

I’m so lost in my fantasy that I almost don’t hear Matt when
he asks why I had to transfer the money into his account. So I explain the
whole story of Bill and the contracts, including what I heard while I was in my
coma. As I’m explaining, at first I even think it sounds insane.

“So you simply have to keep from making any money that
includes anything to do with your career?”

“I guess so?” I respond, staring at the traffic ahead of me.

Keeping his eyes on the road ahead, he says, “Okay. Three
months isn’t too long of a wait for you to stay low on your career. With all
the shit that’s happened to you in the last couple of days, you could look at
it as a vacation.”

Yeah, one where I might go bored out of my mind unless I can
find another form of distraction, quick.

As we’re driving, his phone begins to ring. He lifts it up
to look at who is calling, then pushes the ignore button just as fast. I was
able to get a glance at who was on the screen and there was a picture of a
girl.

Crazy as it might sound, I actually feel a little bit
jealous. Why? I have no clue. I obviously have no claim on him and I don’t know
anything when it comes to his personal life. As good looking as he is, I
wouldn’t be surprised if there
was
a girl in his life. Knowing it’s a
possibility drives me insane in my seat. I already want to claw the girl’s eyes
out.

A minute goes by and the phone rings again. He lifts the
phone without looking at it this time, and pushes a button on the top,
silencing it. It immediately begins to ring again and this must have pissed
Matt off because he jerks the car to the side of the road, throwing my body
against the door as it comes to a stop.

He quickly answers the call and barks into it, “What do you
want? I’m busy right now.”

Damn, remind me never to call him repeatedly if he’s ignored
the first call. Whoever is on the other end of the call obviously doesn’t get
the clue, and they’re lucky they can’t see the look on his face. He’s scowling
at the road ahead of him like he’s shooting daggers with his eyes at an
imaginary person.

He sits there, listening to whoever is speaking on the other
end of the line before saying irritably, “No, not this week, I have a lot going
on. I don’t have any free time. I’ll call you later if I feel like it.” He
stays quiet a couple of seconds, probably listening to the reply. Then he ends
the call. Without bothering to look in my direction, he begins to slowly pull
the car back onto the road and I sit there wondering whether to keep to my
mouth shut or ask.

Curiosity gets the better of me. “So who was that? Your
girlfriend?”

Still staring ahead onto the road, he says, “I don’t have a
girlfriend, and I definitely don’t do relationships. Did that once and learned
my lesson for life.”

I know I was recently screwed over, which taught me a lesson
for life, but not enough to throw dating completely out of the window.
Grimacing, I realize I do know exactly how he feels, but that still doesn’t explain
the phone call, which is the answer I was looking for.

“So if the girl wasn’t your girlfriend, then she must be a
friend. Why were you so rude to her? Didn’t your sister raise you to respect
girls?” I throw at him as he focuses on driving.

Sighing deeply, like he’s trying to calm himself, he keeps
his eyes on the road.

The car pulls up to a red light and when he finally brings
the car to a complete stop he turns his body to face me. “My sister did raise
me to treat a girl with respect, but being that this one spreads her legs
easily, I feel I don’t have much respect for her nowadays,” he says.

My eyes go wide in shock over what he’s said. Whether she
spreads her legs easily or not, he doesn’t have any right to say it. “That’s a
fucked up thing to say about a girl. What she chooses to do with her body
doesn’t define who she is,” I irritably say, because only ten minutes ago I was
willing to give him my body if he would’ve asked. So would that have labeled me
a slut in his eyes?

Apparently, it would have.

“Look, you’re right, I shouldn’t judge her, but she can be
really annoying sometimes. She gets really needy and it pisses me off,” he
quietly says, trying to justify his answer.

I roll my eyes for him to see. Is he expecting his response
to make the earlier one any better?