Unspoken Promises Page 10

  Ironically, Clarity is already blasting through my ear buds and my mind escapes with the lyrics. I absorb the words, realizing the song reminds me of my feelings for Matt and our love for one another.

  I see the finish line ahead and the crowd is already cheering for everybody coming in. It’s at this stretch of every race that my mind takes over. It pushes me to run faster; ignoring all protest of exhaustion. I’m focused on one thing at this point: finishing.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Matt creep up to my side and my eyes go wide. The tempo of the lyrics quickens, and so do my legs, as I force my body to go faster. But when I see him keep his pace with me, I mentally begin to panic. I can barely breathe at this point from exhaustion, but I refuse to give up; I need to cross that finish line before him.

  I feel the electronic padding of the timer below my feet telling me I’ve crossed the finish line, but I know Matt was next to me at the same time. Bringing my body to a stop, Matt is already next to me, a wide smile spread across his lips. His smile is worrying me. It’s as if he’s confident he’s won. I try not to let the panic show in my eyes, but it’s impossible not to worry. Begrudgingly turning to go get my water, I hear Matt say behind me, “What’s wrong, beautiful? Still a sore loser?” As he catches up to my side, I shoot him with a glare, shocked at his words. “You were the one who lost. My foot hit the padding first,” I declare, my inner child wanting to stomp the same foot in contempt.

  “If that’s what you want to believe,” he responds with a chuckle, leaving me gaping at him. “I know I won,” I whine back, already growing agitated. He’s right, I am a sore loser, but I’m not going to admit it.

  Grabbing the bottle of water from the volunteer, I open it and take a sip from the bottle while still managing to stare daggers at Matt. I’m distracted when I see Julio’s large body come up to my side, also grabbing a bottle from the volunteer. He guzzles it completely without taking a breath. When he’s done he looks over at me, still gasping for air. His chest is rising and falling, clearly exhausted. “You okay?” I ask him with a chuckle, wondering if I’m going to need to rush him to the hospital.

  Holding a finger up as if asking me to wait, I raise my eyebrow and look over at Matt. “From now on I’ll wait for you at the finish line,” he says, sucking in another breath. “You’re too damn fast for me to keep up with without the bike. I tried,” he states, still gasping. “I tried to keep up with both of you. Biggest regret ever,” he finishes saying, making me laugh when I comprehend why he looks so spent.

  Matt comes over giving him a slap on the back. “Leave the chasing up to me or else you’re going to have a heart attack.” Julio nods his head in agreement.

  Matt’s eyes meet mine and his face is full of amusement, making me wonder just how much longer I’m going to allow him to chase me around.

  THE DECEITFULNESS IN Abigail’s eyes makes me laugh inside. On the outside she’s portraying this hardened shell of anger, but from the way her eyes keep averting in my direction, I know it’s far from it. I know my teasing has a lot to do with her being angry in the first place. I’ve come to learn how competitive she is, which is another trait I love about her. She’s willing to fight for what she wants, not backing down until she gets it.

  I’m glad I came this morning. At first I thought she had changed her mind when I arrived and she wasn’t here yet. I had to push my doubt aside and be patient, hoping she would show up. With every minute I waited though, I had started to grow impatient, and fearful, thinking she’d decided to sleep in instead. The moment I spotted her, all doubt was pushed aside. Keeping in the shadows of the crowd so she wouldn’t see me, I watched from afar until just the right moment to approach her.

  Now I’m standing at her side as we wait for them to post the finishing times. I look over at her again with a smile on my face, which only agitates her. I know it’s from nervousness. She won’t be satisfied until she knows the results, but even so, she may not like the result in the end. The entire time I was running at her side, I had a gut-wrenching feeling she would finish first, which is why I’ve come to accept she will be driving my car home. It didn’t matter to me anymore. All that mattered was seeing her smile and making her happy. If it took her driving Eleanor, then so be it.

  I see her grow excited telling me they have started to post the results. When I turn to see for myself, I’m right. The flat screen we are all so closely huddled around has already begun to display the names. Abigail politely pushes her way through the crowd. I protectively follow her and use my body to lock her in place when we’ve reached the front. Holding onto her waist, I expect her to pull away, but when she doesn’t it leaves me satisfied. I do it more because I love having her near me, feeling her body close to mine.

  My eyes search for the closest time to where we came in and Abigail must have seen the result before I did. I hear a groan come from her and I feel her body slump forward. I find our names, and right there on the screen in clear view, I see my name above hers, which means my foot hit the finish line first. Her time is only a tenth of a second slower than mine, but it’s all I need to prove I’ve won.

  Bending my head down, I stop right next to her ear. “Looks like you’ll be moving back in, beautiful,” I softly say into her ear, adding a kiss against her skin. She shivers in my arms, rewarding me with the reaction I wanted.

  She turns to face me looking perturbed, but just as quickly her lips go up into a smile. “You never stated when I had to move back in,” she smugly replies. I’m about to argue when she adds, “I’ll keep my end of the deal, when I’m ready.” Her eyes are challenging me.

  Knowing this isn’t the time or place to argue the subject, I guide her away from the crowd surrounding us. I feel her body tense as she walks with me. “Where are we going?” she’s asks, sounding confused.

  “I plan on feeding you like I always do after a run,” I answer, instantly thinking of my next plan.

  Finding Julio, I tilt my head in the direction of the parking lot. I remember we’ve both brought our cars, causing me to stop and face Abigail. “I’ll meet you at the house.”

  “Why?” she demands with piercing eyes.

  I was expecting it. “Abigail, I’ve always cooked for you after we both run. I don’t want to start breaking the tradition just because we aren’t living together,” I explain. Needing to feel her at this moment, I cup the back of her neck and gently massage it, already feeling her relax against my touch. Her chest rises and falls with a sigh before she replies. “Okay,” she whispers with a smile that matches my own.

  I’m left watching her walk away with Julio, and once she’s safely inside her car, I jog my way over to mine, excited to get home. I follow Abigail and start to grow worried that she’s changed her mind when she detours from the direction of the house. I keep following her, already preparing my speech of disappointment from her not keeping her word. When we pull up to a house and I see Julio climb out of her car, I understand; she’s dropping him off. I see her wave me over and I pull my car up next to hers and she looks quite embarrassed. “I don’t know how to get to your house from here!” she shouts. Telling her to follow me, I start to drive away.

  The remainder of the drive, I have a smile on my face. Once we’ve both pulled into the driveway, I climb out of my car and make my way over to hers. When I approach her, I can see the apprehension in her eyes as she looks directly at the house. “What’s wrong?” I ask her.

  She looks as if she’s ready to bolt. I wrap my arms around her to keep her from escaping, but she still looks petrified. “I don’t know if I want to go back in there, Matt,” she says, the crackling in her voice matching the apprehension radiating from her entire body. I look back at the house confused, until it occurs to me the last time she was in it was the morning Lisa was here. I hadn’t expected for Abigail to feel uneasy about coming back to the house, but I don’t want the unpleasantness of the memories to push her away. Pulling her against my chest, I kiss her on the temple, reass
uring her that I’m with her. “I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do, beautiful, but remember I told you that this is your home, too.” I say, hoping she remembers the night I made that promise to her. When she nods her head, I continue, “I meant it. This will always be your home, no matter what happens.”

  She remains silent in my arms, but returns my embrace. “Just breakfast?” she hesitantly asks, reminding me of her earlier demand.

  “I will promise breakfast, but what happens after that is up to you,” I convey, still hoping she will change her mind. “I wouldn’t mind if you stayed longer,” I sneak in, still wishful.

  “Breakfast for now,” she mummers into my chest.

  Agreeing, knowing it’s better than nothing, I guide her to the front door. Stepping inside with her feels like a small triumph. As I lead her over to the kitchen, she asks, “You going to make pancakes?” her eyes wide with excitement.

  I turn to face her, pulling out the carton of eggs. “No,” I reply, watching her smile turn into a frown. As much as I love keeping that smile on her face, the entire drive here I had laid out a game plan. I wanted to do something that involved Abigail. I wanted to be next to her the entire time. “We’re making omelets, and you’re going to help me make them.”

  Her forehead furrows, clearly not happy with my answer. “I thought the point of you winning was you cooking,” she reminds me, folding her arms across her chest. “You’re right, I did say that, but technically you lost, so you should be cooking, which is why I’m helping you,” I clarify. “Come on, it’ll be fun,” I enthusiastically add.

  Holding her hand out asking for the carton of eggs, I hand it over to continue taking the rest of the ingredients out of the fridge. With everything on the counter, we both wash our hands and I’m soon grabbing a knife and cutting board. Standing behind her as we both face the counter, I instruct her on which vegetables to chop. It’s clear at first by how large she’s chopping them she is new to the simple task.

  Standing behind her so she’s directly in front of me, I can help instruct her. I take her hand within mine as I assist her, showing her how to chop smaller pieces. The simple act has reminded me of how much I’ve missed spending time with her. Purposely, I prolong the time it takes to chop the vegetables. I’m using the excuse that I’m willing to show her how it’s done, but in all reality it’s so I can keep her near.

  When we move onto the onions, I hear her sniffling. I turn her chin to face me and her eyes are red with tears. I know it’s from the vapors of the onion, but I can’t resist teasing her. “Beautiful, are you crying, for me?” I’m unable to resist the smile spreading across my face.

  She shoots me with a scowl, making me laugh as she elbows me in the stomach. Leaning down, I kiss her on her lips. “It’s okay, beautiful. You don’t have to admit anything, but I know those tears are because you love me,” I say against her lips.

  She’s about to say something, but is interrupted when we hear, “Supermodel, you’re back?” Trey sarcastically bellows from the hallway. “I see you’ve kissed and made up, too,” he adds.

  She looks over in his direction, already pulling herself away. “I’m only here for breakfast,” she corrects him. He’s eyeing us both suspiciously, but in usual Trey fashion, shrugs off the words. “Abigail’s making omelets,” I proudly add.

  His eyes go wide in surprise. “She’s not going to give us food poisoning, is she?” I hear Abigail snicker in front of me. “Whatever, as long as I don’t have to cook it,” he adds.

  “Why don’t we finish up?” I say without waiting for a response so I won’t scare her off.

  She resumes her chopping without my assistance, but I keep my body wrapped behind her as I start heating up the pan. Another minute later I’m showing her how to make her first omelet. The delight on her face from accomplishing the task is just as satisfying to me as well.

  Half hour later, we’re all done eating and Trey calls dibs on the shower first, leaving Abigail and I to clean up. With the dishes in the dishwasher, I take the chance to finish the conversation that never started at the race. I pull her into my arms, wanting to hold her a little bit longer.

  My hand starts stroking up and down her back as her words echo in my mind. I feel as if my heart is being torn from my chest. I want nothing more than to demand she moves back in, to remind her we made a bet. I won fair and square, but I know better; I’d be making a mistake if I push Abigail too fast.

  I stand there with her in my arms, but it’s when I glance at the clock in the living room that Abigail speaks again. “You have a game today?” she asks, noticing me staring at the clock. “This afternoon actually. But we have to get to the airport by this afternoon,” I tell her.

  “Where are you guys going this time?” she curiously asks.

  I’m dreading having to answer and I know she isn’t going to be happy with my response. “San Francisco.” The words drop like a heavy brick into the pit of my stomach.

  Her tilted head snaps up. She’s silent, too silent for my taste, as she stares back at me with doe eyes. I step forward, so our bodies are closer together and I trap her body against the counter.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” she rasps out. I shake my head and the reaction she gives me is the answer I needed to know she was testing me. She was expecting me to say yes. She attempts to step away, but I don’t allow her as I continue to keep her trapped. “Then why don’t you want me there?” she challenges. “Is that why you didn’t tell me about the game?”

  Raking my hand through my hair, I carefully choose my words. “You haven’t been around for me to tell you,” I explain to her. “It’s not what you think, beautiful,” I say, keeping her wrapped in my arms. I can tell by the way she’s narrowing her eyes at me that she doesn’t believe my explanation. “Things have been so hectic between us lately, it sort of slipped my mind.”

  She’s stays silent. “Abigail, I don’t want to fight with you, please,” I say, bringing my mouth back down to her brow to kiss her. “I swear, beautiful, it’s the only reason,” I add for good measure.

  “I should go,” she scornfully delivers as she attempts to pull her body away from mine. I tighten my hold on her knowing I cannot let her leave angry. “No,” I curtly reply. “We’re not done talking about you moving back in,” I say, attempting to change the subject. I feel her sigh against my chest. “I’m not ready yet, Matt,” she softly replies. I can hear the agony in her words. “How can you expect me to just come running back to you after everything that has happened?” she throws at me.

  I’m lost for words.

  “I think it’s too soon.”

  “I’ll give you time, beautiful, but don’t expect too much of it. I miss you and I need you back here with me.” I could only pray I’m making the right decision.

  With a sigh she leans into my body again. “What about Lisa?” she faintly whispers. Pulling away to look into her eyes, I’m about to speak, but the unshed tears in her eyes are keeping me from responding. Nothing pains me more than to see her this way.

  “You’re right, I should be focusing on Lisa,” I tell her, watching her lip start to tremble from my admission, but I quickly add, “Only because of the baby, nothing more. You know I love you, and I know you love me just as much. Why can’t we make this work?”

  “I don’t know, Matt,” she whispers, her head dropping against my chest. “Every time I tell myself I can’t live without you, she clouds my mind, making me mad all over again,” she admits.

  I embrace her head in my hand, keeping her against me. “Beautiful, isn’t our love worth fighting for?”

  She stays silent and the fear of telling me it isn’t builds as the seconds go by. Her fingers grip my shirt as he stays silent in my arms. I can do nothing more than rub her back, trying to comfort her. “I don’t want to give up on us,” she declares, her words allowing me to breathe again.

  When she pulls away, I worry. “Friends, we’re staying friends,” she in
dicates.

  “Wasn’t it in this same kitchen that you declared you’d never be one of my friends with benefits?” I remind her. She drops her head to my chest in defeat and I cannot resist kissing her on her head as I laugh.

  “I don’t want the friends with benefits thing anymore, you’re staying my girlfriend,” I profess.

  I hear her muffle something against my chest, but I cannot make it out. “What did you say?” She lifts her head, her eyes narrowed at me. “Fine.”

  Palming her face in my hands, I kiss her again. I don’t know what she meant by that response, but I’ll take it regardless. Our kiss turns heated, and though I told myself I wasn’t going to rush her, I’ve been yearning to make love to her again. By the way she’s returning my kiss, I know she feels the same way. I pick her up and take her straight to the one place I’ve been longing for her to return to.

  KISSING HIM IS my weakness. When my lips meet his, I lose myself. His kiss will forever be my downfall. I may live to regret giving in to my weakness, but as our tongues glide together, I forget why I’m mad at him. I completely forget I’m supposed to be holding up the barriers of my heart. Nothing matters at all but to keep kissing him.

  With my eyes closed, I can feel him walking us in the direction of his room. The route of his steps is so familiar to me since I’ve taken them many times. I should be fighting his request, but instead I willingly accept it, knowing what is to come. My passion for him is increasing with every step closer to the room. The thought of being with Matt is making me light up inside.