Unspoken Memories (Unspoken Series) Page 14

  Therefore, Matt had cooked us a delicious pasta dinner the night before. There were definitely no complaints on my part. Anything he cooked was always welcome in my stomach. Trey was the surprised one when we had informed him that we were now eating dinner at the table like normal families.

  According to him he didn’t come from a normal family so he had no clue what that meant. He had even gone into detail regaling us with wacky stories from his family dinners, some which even had me practically rolling with laughter. They really helped distract me of my nerves for the race.

  When I had explained how nervous I was to Matt, he said it was normal for me to feel this way. Especially since this was my first big race. I don’t care how normal it was supposed to feel, it didn’t help at all.

  After dinner though, the nerves started to get to me again. Matt had forced me to go to bed early, claiming we had to be up really early the next morning, so he wanted me to be well rested to run. My nervousness kept me from falling asleep right away. I kept tossing and turning. After half an hour of fighting with the covers, I finally decided to get up.

  I knew Trey had decided to go out earlier, so I thought that maybe if I paced the living room, it would help calm me down a little. A theory that was obviously proven incorrect; it only made it worse.

  Matt must have heard me walking back and forth, even though I was barefoot, because after ten minutes I saw him standing against the wall leading to the hallway. He had his arms crossed over his shirtless chest, with his legs crossed at the ankles, looking sleepy eyed.

  “Why you up?” he asked, squinting and blinking his eyes trying to get them to adjust to the kitchen light that I had turned on to keep me company.

  “I’m sorry if I woke you up. I couldn’t sleep,” I say starting to bite my thumbnail as I stop and stand there in the middle of the room.

  Matt’s shoulders drop and he heads over to me. When he reaches me he grabs my hand, and pulls me to the direction of my room. He walks us both in, shutting the door behind us. I’m confused why he’s still in my room, but he answers the question when he pulls us both to the bed.

  My heart starts to speed up with excitement, even though I have no clue what he has planned. I’m hoping it’s something good. I start to bite my lip to keep my smile from showing, even if the room is pitch black, and he can’t see it. I’m giddy and the nerves I have now are for a whole other reason than the ones from moments ago.

  I feel him climb into the bed pulling me down with him. He’s wearing his usual black boxer briefs, and nothing else. So naturally I can feel his body since I only have on boy shorts with a tank top. His body is bare compared to mine and I’m tempted to make it equal. I’m quickly disappointed when he says, “Let’s go to bed, beautiful. You have a big day tomorrow,” with his sleepy voice.

  Crap, all he wants to do it sleep. I roll my eyes in the silent dark, mentally kicking my perverted mind and myself.

  I start to adjust my body against his, craving his warmth. He entwines our legs together, pulling my body tight against his, almost as if he’s ensuring that I don’t get up again. I bury my face into the crook of his neck, memorizing the smell of his body wash from his earlier shower, loving the way it combines with the natural smell of his skin. I wrap my arm under his, securing it up around his shoulder, wanting to hold him just as tight. I could feel the muscles in his back and shoulders. My mind goes crazy with the images that are swirling in my head.

  Just holding him starts to make my hormones go into overdrive. My body starts prickling, coursing through my blood, down to my toes. I want to run my fingers all over his body right now, touching every single inch of it. It’s driving me insane with all the mixed signals that he’s sending me. He can easily make me feel secure and safe, then just as fast push me away to prove that there is absolutely nothing between us.

  His embrace calms my nerves and my body starts to relax. Within minutes I feel Matt’s breathing begin to slow down, and by the stillness in his body, I know he’s already asleep. Although I’m still frustrated, my body is getting so lax in his arms that I grow sleepy, and I finally allow my body to join him into the world of dreamland.

  I wake up the next morning to my alarm blaring from my phone announcing it’s time to get up. My body is yelling it’s too damn early! I automatically reach for it, already knowing how to shut it up with my eyes closed. Remembering how I finally wound up falling asleep last night, I open my eyes to see if Matt is still in bed.

  I’m disappointed when I’m once again alone in an empty bed, free of Matt. I want to scream from the dejected feeling that I’m getting right now, but instead I take a deep breath. I let it out, trying to push out the frustration that is building up in my entire body.

  I eventually get up, heading straight for the shower hoping that the cool morning water will wake me up, or at least cool down my burning body.

  We make it to the race with the usual time to spare, and I’m once again standing at the start line of yet another race.

  We’re surrounded by a crowd of people and I’m scared witless with nerves. I’ve had them for the last couple of days, and I’m about to go mad. This morning my nerves are a hundred times worse than the last couple of days. The first race I ran with Matt I had no idea what to expect, but this one is different. I knew exactly how many miles I was going to have to run, and I knew to expect a huge crowd compared to the last one. There were easily at least 20,000 runners today.

  I try to distract myself by adjusting the armband that holds my phone, making sure it’s not too tight, or too loose. I bought it before our “fifteen” miler, since I discovered at the 10k that it was driving me nuts having to hold my phone in my hand while trying to outsprint Matt.

  As the announcers start to rev up the crowd, I actually begin to get excited. I look over to Matt feeling good about this race. Or maybe I am feeling cocky from everyone cheering. “Okay, what’re the stakes this time?”

  He looks over at me with a raised eyebrow, and then considers the question.

  “You have to cook for two nights this time, one of them being for a group of friends that I’ll invite over,” he says with a cocky grin.

  Uhh, what is up with him making me learn to cook? I’m not the one trying to get some guy’s attention. Okay maybe just his, but we both know it’s not going to be with my cooking.

  “Why do you always throw the cooking thing at me? Isn’t there anything else you’d rather get out of me?” I say without thinking.

  His eyes turn sexy and hooded. His lips go into a half smile, as if he’s getting the same picture I’m imagining if he were to take me up on my offer. I begin to feel an ache in between my legs with that look. His eyes are my weakness, but those lips are closely behind them in the ranks. I want to run my tongue along those lips.

  “I know you hate it, so it’s worth wagering,” he says in a husky tone. “Anything else I wouldn’t want to risk wagering for.”

  “What the hell are you putting on the table?” I quickly put my finger up to stop him from speaking, and continue on. “It can’t involve cooking or anything domestic. We already know you can play the housewife in this friendship of ours.”

  He turns his head, staring ahead into the crowd. At first, I think he’s ignoring me then he says, “I’ll let you drive my car home,” without glancing in my direction. I’m pretty sure it killed him inside to even suggest it.

  I mouth falls open in a huge O, and my eyes go wide. I want to jump up and down, whooping at the same time, but I can’t get to ahead of myself. I did that last time, and he ended up smoking my ass.

  “Deal,” I say with enthusiasm, lightly jumping up in down, unable to control myself. My nerves have now turned to total excitement and I’m ready to run this thing. I put my earphones in my ear and start my playlist as the crowd moves forward pushing us through the start line.

  Matt and I keep up with each other, moving through the crowd, keeping a steady pace. He told me during our last run that you always want t
o pace yourself for the first eight to nine miles, increasing slowly from beginning to end. According to him, one problem runners always have is that they start off fast from the excitement of the race, then die down when they reach halfway which causes them to want to slow down or give up.

  He was really good about touching my arm to slow me down when I would want to speed up. At first I had thought it was because he wanted to pull the same stunt as the last race, but he was right.

  Once we hit the mile marker for the sixth mile, I began to notice what he meant by people dying down. The crowd slowly started to thin out from them starting to walk, but it allowed us to slowly increase our speed.

  By the time we hit the ninth mile, I felt him start to run faster, so I followed his lead. Next thing I know I lose myself in the music blasting in my ears, and start to take off leaving Matt behind. I don’t do it on purpose, but the song that happens to come on at the moment on my playlist gives me a jolt of adrenaline. I wanted to finish this race already.

  We finally hit the tenth mile marker, which records our time, and I just keep running faster. Still lost in my world of music, I notice the crowd of people cheering us on, and it helps push me forward. All of a sudden I see the sign that marks “Mile 12” and grow ecstatic. I’m almost done and even if I feel a little fatigued; I know deep down inside it’s almost over. My brain tells my legs to pick it up and they start wanting to move faster.

  I begin to see the crowds increasing on the side, with people cheering, and I see the finish line in the far distance up ahead. I grow excited, and suck in a big breath, telling myself, let’s do this. I dig deep down inside, trying to pull energy from my body, and pick up my pace. I can see the finish banner slowly start to come visibly close, so I start sprinting for it, finally crossing it a couple of seconds later.

  I stop running, bringing my body to a walk, as they place a medal over my neck. The feeling of knowing that I’ve finally finished, mixed with the pride of receiving my first medal, makes it worth running this race.

  That’s when I realize that I had totally forgotten about Matt a while back and I feel horrible about it. I turn around looking for him and see him running towards the finish line. Once he’s crossed over he brings his body to a walk as well, with his hands on the side of his hips, and shakes his head as he drops it in defeat.

  After they place his medal around his neck, he comes straight to me and hugs me, making the guilt disappear. After a couple of seconds he lets me go, but keeps his arm around my waist, and he walks me through the crowd of spectators.

  My body feels spent, but there is nothing like the feeling of knowing that you just finished running thirteen miles and you also beat someone else in the process.

  After gathering our stuff from the check-in where we left our bags, we begin to silently walk over to the lot where we left his car. The whole time we don’t speak, and I’m already beginning to think that Matt is going to back out on his end of the deal.

  I had totally forgotten about it until we started walking back. You would have thought this was the reason why I kept running faster, but in reality it wasn’t. I was lost in my own little world of wanting to finish.

  Once we get to the entrance of the lot with the car, I see him grimly start to dig through his bag. Looking worried he takes out his keys, tightly squeezing them in his fist, as if he’s about to change his mind. He closes his eyes, tilting his head up to the sky before taking a deep breath. You can see his throat tightening up as he swallows and the strain in his jaw indicates that he’s keeping himself from grinding his teeth. I see his head come back down as he solemnly opens his eyes, looks directly at me, and then throws the keys to me.

  I catch them with a grin from ear to ear, jump up excited, pumping the fist holding the keys and start to jog to the driver’s side of the car.

  I get in, stick the key in the ignition, and turn it. The car turns on with a loud purr that I love hearing. I sit there, closing my eyes, gripping the steering wheel as I rest my forehead against it.

  I can hear Matt groaning from the other side of the car, but I only ignore him wanting to take in my sweet victory.

  Yup, this feeling right now might just be better than eating Matt’s pancakes after a long run.

  A WEEK LATER I’m lying outside in the backyard sunbathing in a bikini, taking advantage of the sun that has decided to show itself in Portland. These days are rare, but when they do happen, I take full advantage. I feel a silhouette taking over the sun shining down on me, and I open my eyes to see a sexy looking guy looking down at me while he’s licking his lips. Thank God for the sunglasses I’m wearing at this moment, because I’m staring intensely right back at him, imaging what I could easily do with those lips.

  I shake my head, forcing myself to return to reality. “Is there a reason why you’re out here, Matt? Besides blocking the only sun that decided to grace us with its presence on this day.”

  He stares at me, and I begin to feel my body heat up from his sexy eyes bearing down on me. Even the sun that is shining down on me doesn’t heat my body as well as those eyes. My heart starts to race like it always does when he’s near me, and I might have to take a really cold shower to bring my body temperature back down.

  “I wanted to tell you that I went into the Portland Marathon’s website to confirm my entry, and I discovered that there were still open entries. So I signed you up to run it with me,” he casually says.

  My body shoots up and I immediately stand up to stare at him in astonishment. “Why the heck did you do that Matt, and without asking me first? What makes you think I would even want to run it?” I practically shout at him. “My legs hurt for days after the last race. I was sore in places that I didn’t like, and it’s unfair because I didn’t get any enjoyment out of it.”

  Matt looks at me dropping his eyelids with his signature beam on his face and I’m instantly regretting was I’ve said. “If you wanted some enjoyment out of it beautiful, all you had to do was ask.”

  I want to smack that smile off his face right now. “Don’t you start with me Matthew, I’m not in the mood,” I snap at him.

  “Let me know when you are and I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Look, I didn’t want to run it alone,” he says, trying to change the subject. “Since you already have the stolen memory, I figured I would make it a reality for you,” he says as he walks away from me and into the house. The sadness when he said it makes me feel guilty, then I quickly remember what he said.

  Stolen memory, my ass. It’s not like I wanted these damn memories to happen. I don’t even understand why they’re happening. Especially when they’re all about him.

  I follow him into the house, still pissed. If I thought I was overheated earlier from his sexy stare, he is going to feel the wrath from the heat of my glare in a minute. He’s going to be the one that needs the cold shower when I’m done with him.

  “Matthew Garcia, you had no right to register me for another race without my permission. You have to stop doing that,” I shout at him, because he’s still walking away from me. “I haven’t been training as hard as you. So there’s no way I could even hang for, for… how many miles is a marathon anyways?” I ask, totally lost, not knowing the answer.

  He stops in the hallway before his doorway and faces me with a serious look on his face. “It’s 26.2 miles and I’m pretty sure if you can handle fifteen miles you can handle a couple of more.”

  My jaw drops open. “Did you flunk math? Because I’m pretty sure twenty-six minus fifteen is not a couple of measly miles,” I say, dropping my hand on my hip, glaring him straight in the eyes.

  “We’ll run twenty miles this weekend at an easy pace for your body to adjust and then the week after that you’ll take it easy during the race. You have seven hours to finish it anyways. I’m pretty sure you can finish it before that,” he says, smiling down at me.

  “Give me one good reason why I should run this race?” I throw at him.

  “It’s the l
ast race that I can run before the season starts and being that it’s the last race that I ran with my sister, I have a feeling it’s going to be hard on me to run it alone. It would really mean a lot to me beautiful, if you’d run it with me.” His eyes are pleading with me.

  He’s managed to make me push the anger completely away with his plea and the only thing I can say is, “Alright, but it’s the last one,” Pointing my finger at him in irritation, I declare, “So quit signing me up for the damn things, or the next time you'll be running alone, whether you like it or not.”

  I turn around, heading to the kitchen, not giving him a chance to give me an answer.

  As I stand against the counter drinking some water I think about everything that just happened. What is up with this man? He knows how to push my buttons in all the wrong ways.

  Since I’m still fuming a little, I decide to head to my room to take a shower. I’m hoping the cool water will temper down my mood.

  Once I’m finally done and dressed in normal clothing, I head back into the living room and notice Matt sitting on the couch. He’s leaning forward over a thick folder, concentrating intensely on it. I go over and sit next to him and see that he’s staring at a page with a bunch of Xs and Os all over it. He turns a page and does the same with the next one.

  I’m staring at the markings on the page and I’m confused out of my mind what it means, so I look up at Matt. He finally notices that while he’s deeply concentrating on the page, I’m deeply concentrating on him.

  Matt tilts his head to me with a half-smile. “Hey beautiful, you done with your tantrum?”

  I roll my eyes at him and take a deep breath. I really don’t want to start fighting with him again.

  “What are you looking at?”

  He lifts up the folder he’s holding with the pages and states, “It’s this year’s play moves. As the quarterback, it’s my job to know all the offensive plays.”

  I look back down at the folder and notice that there must be at least fifty pages. “That’s a lot of pages you have to memorize, how do you do it?”