Unspoken Memories (Unspoken Series)

by Gabbie S. Duran

  As I’m about ready to pee my pants, we roll off the couch from all the wiggling that my body is causing between us and we land on the floor with a light thump, with Matt landing on top of me. The shock of it makes Matt stop his tickling, as he’s staring down into my face and my body is now numb from the heat of his stare.

  His hand gently pushes the hair that is loosely covering my face out of the way so he can better see me. His face is so angelic as I look into his eyes, returning the heat that is radiating between us. Right as I see him lean his head down, I prepare myself, my body growing excited. When his face is mere inches from my own, his phone goes off, announcing Trey’s ringtone.

  We both freeze up, but then his body relaxes just as fast. Thinking he’s going to ignore it, he surprises me when does the opposite. Bracing his arms on the side of my body, still looking down at me his face grows regretful.

  He pushes himself up and off the ground, walking away from me, and into the direction of his singing phone.

  Lying there on the ground, I close my eyes, already regretting the loss of his body on top of me. Repeating in my head what just occurred, I’m left confused and wondering why he had that look on this face. I really hate not having answers.

  THE NEXT MORNING I’m still lazing in bed, playing with my phone, when Matt comes into my room without knocking. Now that I think about it, he does that often. Does he do it on purpose? Sometimes I wonder if he does, in hope that he’ll catch me changing?

  “Get up and get dressed. You’ve been cooped up in this house for too long. I'm taking you out for some air,” he says, standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at me.

  “Where are we going?” I ask skeptically.

  “It’s a surprise. Hurry up and get ready,” he says before he leaves the room again.

  Excited that we're actually going to go somewhere, I jump up off the bed and start getting quickly dressed. On the car ride to what appears to be downtown Portland, I keep asking Matt where we’re going, but he refuses to say. By the look on his face, he wants it to be a surprise and I’m excited to find out.

  My surprise trip lands us at Portland’s famous Saturday Market. It’s crowded with people on this bright sunny morning. At first, I’m hesitant since there are a lot of people, but since the day is sunny I am able to wear my sunglasses to conceal my face and with my hair in my normal go-to ponytail, I’m pretty sure I’m unrecognizable.

  I was actually excited to get to do something normal today, especially since I had begun to keep myself cooped up indoors, so I pushed the fear to the back of my mind, trusting Matt.

  We started the day with Matt purchasing what he called an elephant ear. I look down at it, realizing it doesn’t resemble its namesake, and it made me laugh. It was delicious though and I shared it with Matt as we walked up and down the aisles of all the booths lining the area. There was so much to look at and choose from; it was amazing what you can find there. I’m surprised I didn’t buy one of everything.

  By far the best part of the day was when Matt had said he had one more thing he wanted me to taste. He didn’t want to tell me what it was, but as we stood in a long line alongside a brick building, I had to wonder if it was even worth it. Forty-five minutes later, I was clued in as to why the line was so long. When I took a bite of what Matt handed me, my mouth felt like it had left earth and gone to chocolate heaven. It was chocolate, mixed with peanut butter, glazed with cameral, and every single bite was just as sinfully delicious as the next. After devouring that bad boy, I already knew I would have to run extra mileage the next day due to the sugar intake, but it was well worth it.

  With hours gone and a sugar high to throw me into a diabetic coma, I’m exhausted and relieved that we are finally leaving. As we head to the car I’m feeling happy as ever from our day and take a chance by asking Matt, “Can I drive home?”

  “No,” he sharply replies without hesitation, without taking a side-glance at me.

  I try again. “Oh come on Matt, please,” I say, pouting my bottom lip at him.

  He suddenly stops walking, curiously looking at me and I get excited thinking he’s considering it for a moment. “Keep begging like that and I'll let you drive me, beautiful,” he says wickedly, ending with his half smile.

  Uhhh! Keeping him off limits is close to impossible sometimes. How in the hell am I supposed to refuse his proposal when he throws shit like that at me? If it wasn’t for the fact that I knew messing around with him wouldn’t get me anywhere, I might have taken him up on that offer.

  Instead, I roll my eyes and stomp away. Behind me I hear him laugh as he catches up to me, and my body is jolted to a stop when he wraps his arms around my waist pulling my body against his.

  “Sorry beautiful, I couldn't resist,” he whispers lightly into my ear.

  The feeling of his body against my own, and the warmth of his breath against my ear force me to close my eyes for a split second. My body is absorbing the feeling as he’s physically touching me. The shivers that run through my body as he says it drive me insane.

  Dammit, why does my body always react to him this way? I’m supposed to be resisting him, not giving in to his touch. Realizing that being in his arms is not helping to get what I want anyways, I quickly unwrap his arms from my waist, and turn to face him throwing my hands on my hips.

  “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  “What?”

  “Beautiful. Why do you call me that?”

  He cocks his head to the side, considering my question. “Why wouldn't I call you beautiful?”

  I shake my head, not satisfied. “Why the nickname? You should only give a nickname to someone you’re dating or in love with,” I say to him, lifting my forefinger up to stop him from speaking so I can continue. “Being that I’m not your girlfriend, and I’m definitely not one of your friends with benefits or someone you love, it doesn’t give you the right to label me with a nickname.”

  His lips go up into a smile and his eyes become hooded with his long lashes dropping low. “Has anyone ever told you how adorable you look when you’re mad?” he huskily inquires.

  Dammit, with him looking at me like that I lose my focus on what I’m trying to prove. My body already knows its weakness, and he’s standing right in front of me. Since I know I’m never going to win with him looking at me like that, I throw my hands up in defeat and turn to start walking back to the car again. I already know I’m a lost cause.

  Once we're at the car I get into the passenger seat. Obviously I know I won’t be driving, and buckle up. I cross my arms in front of me in irritation over the whole situation, wondering why we even had the conversation in the first place.

  The drive home is spent in an awkward silence, but the whole time I keep thinking, why do I let him get to me like this?

  When we finally reach our street, I notice another car in the driveway parked next to Trey’s Jeep. When I look over in Matt’s direction wondering if he knows to whom it belongs, my question is answered, just by looking at him. By his body language, he obviously knows. He’s gone completely rigid and the paleness of his face starts to worry me. His face just as quickly grows irritated and he looks really pissed. The kind I don’t want to mess with at the moment.

  Scowling, Matt says, “Fuck. She didn’t tell me she was coming over.”

  He brings the car to an abrupt stop, throwing the car into park. He exits the car, slamming the door behind him, making me flinch. I recover and get out in the same hurry as him. I don’t want to miss meeting this mystery girl he is so pissed about. I know I shouldn’t be so eager to find out, but then again, I’m a nosey person.

  Sue me.

  “Who is this she?” I ask, as I quickly follow him.

  He doesn’t look at me as he continues to the front door. “Just a friend that I have come over every now and then.”

  His tone when he says it doesn’t make me feel any better. He’s obviously upset about this friend being here. He keeps walking ahead of me into the hous
e, leaving me behind. As we walk in, a girl is already walking towards the exit and when she sees Matt she throws herself up at him, wrapping her legs around his waist. “It’s about time you’re home, I’m horny and I need a good fuck,” she says in a whiny voice as she grinds herself on him.

  Whoa. The scene that has just taken place in front of me makes me stop in my tracks for a second. I recover myself and keep walking past them straight into the house. So she’s that kind of friend, I realize.

  Ignoring the possible mating session that might take place in the doorway, I brush past them, and head straight for the kitchen.

  “Wait, who was that?” I hear the girl exclaim as I’m taking a water bottle from the fridge, twisting off the cap and taking a drink. I turn my body to face them and lean against the counter, trying to get a better view.

  “What are you doing here, Lizzy? You know the rules, you’re supposed to call first,” he tells her, ignoring her question, prying her body from his, depositing her back onto the ground. He tries to use his body to block the line of sight between the both of us, but it doesn’t help.

  Lizzy is a short little bleached blonde, with styled wavy hair past her shoulders. She is wearing cut off jean shorts with a white tank top that is clearly a size too small, making her assets very noticeable. She has her hands on her hips and she’s obviously not happy I’m here as she’s glaring in my direction.

  I’m taking another sip from the bottled water, acting as if I’m ignoring them. In reality, I’m being the nosiest person in the room right now.

  “You’re screwing her now, too?” she says, pointing her finger at me with a furious glare.

  I spit out the water I was drinking, with a mortified look on my face, coughing at the same time. Screwing me too? I knew he was screwing a bunch of girls, but how does this chick know he’s screwing anyone other than her? Do they all know about each other?

  I grab a dishtowel from the side of the sink and start to clean up the mess on the floor. The whole time, I’m trying to keep them in my vision so I can listen in and see the expressions on their faces.

  Matt’s clearly not happy with her question as he glares down into her face. “No, I’m not screwing her. She’s just a friend. She lives here now. So if you have a problem with it Lizzy, there’s the door.” He tilts his head in the direction of the front door.

  This makes both of our mouths drop. Mine because Matt is being a jerk in my defense, and hers because she probably wasn’t expecting him to defend me like that.

  Lizzy shakes her head and glares back at Matt. “Is this why you haven’t returned my phone calls these last couple of days?”

  “I shouldn’t have to explain why I haven’t returned your phone calls. You’re not my girlfriend and you knew the rules when we started this thing. If you don’t like the rules, then let me repeat myself. There’s. The. Door,” he growls.

  Fuck, what an asshole.

  I stand there, confused whether I should be happy he’s standing his ground when it comes to me or go comfort the poor girl for his attitude. It only makes me wonder if he’d be just as big of an asshole if he were someone’s boyfriend?

  “Fuck you Matt,” she growls back at him.

  “Been there, done that. To tell you the truth, there wouldn’t be much to miss,” he says to her as she’s walking away and out the door.

  I can’t believe what I’ve just witnessed. This is a side of Matt I had no clue existed. With me he’s this gentle overprotective guy who went out of his way to make me feel safe and secure. What I saw must have been the asshole Matt who clearly needs to be kept away from.

  Once I hear the door shut, Matt walks into the kitchen ignoring me, and he starts to take things out of the fridge and cupboards, clearly trying to avoid me.

  Throwing the towel into the sink, I go over to the island in the middle of the room and hop right onto it. I bring my legs up onto the counter crossing them, sitting Indian style.

  “Does that happen often?” Without giving him a chance to answer, I continue, “I really hope you’re not planning on making her prediction correct by adding me to that list of friends,” I say with a bitter tone.

  Matt stops what he’s doing, turning in my direction. “You really think I’d do that to you?”

  I shrug my shoulders at him and stare down at the floor wanting to ignore the surprised expression on his face.

  I see Matt walk over and stop in front of me. He places both hands next to mine on the counter, touching them with only his thumbs. When I lift my head to look at him, his eyes are narrowing into mine. “I wouldn’t use you the way I use them.”

  I sigh, but he continues. “You know why I won’t commit. I told you that in the car. But they don’t know that. When I started seeing them they knew not to expect more because I laid it flat on the table before I even fucked them. Once they get clingy I cut them off, easy as that.”

  So him telling me about the girl at Berkley was his way of laying the rules on the table for me without having to tell me. I’m the stupid one who thought he’d be different.

  Forced to see the truth of the situation I’m in, I nod my head in agreement, holding back the tears that threaten to surface.

  “Look, I’m not one to judge, but don’t you think it’s a little fucked up that you’re using them like that?” I query.

  Matt pushes himself away from the counter, shrugs his shoulders, and goes back to what he was doing before I interrupted him. “Who says they aren’t using me instead?”

  Yeah, right. If that’s what you want to think to make it all better in your eyes. I have a feeling this could end up being an endless argument, like earlier. So I surrender by telling him, “I’m just laying down the rules, between you and me. As long as you don’t expect to add me to that list of friends, we’ll be fine.”

  Matt pauses, looks back at me with a smile then says, “Deal.”

  A COUPLE OF days later, I’m laying on the couch watching a reality show on the entertainment channel, when Matt comes into the living room. He lifts my legs from the couch, sitting himself under them, and then rests them back on his knees.

  I look around the room and wonder why he picked that spot when there’s a whole other couch, not to mention the recliner, empty for him to sit on?

  He looks at me with a casual smile, and starts massaging my calves and ankles. They’re a bit sore from our long run yesterday, a run that ended up being a total of ten miles without me realizing it.

  Matt had said we were going for a run, so I laced up and followed. Lesson learned, as I was cursing him halfway in, next time I’d ask him how many miles before we even head out of the door and double it in my mind.

  Halfway through the run my body began to notice that we were running more that our usual five miles. When I questioned Matt how much longer we were going to run, he wouldn’t answer, but stated that I could handle it. Repeating, one foot in front of the other, I just kept running.

  After the second time of him saying it, I wanted to strangle him. The only reason I didn’t was that he kept pulling ahead of me, keeping me at an arm’s length. I would have given up had we not been running in the direction of the car.

  He’s still moving his large hands up and down my legs, gently rubbing and massaging them. It’s really hard to lie there, trying to ignore the flurry that is running up them, directly to the center of my thighs. I’m using a great deal of effort to focus on watching TV, hoping he doesn’t notice how turned on I’m getting right now from the rubbing of his hands. I’m saved a couple of minutes later, when he stops, leaving me already longing for his next touch. I clap my knees together, uselessly trying to calm my turned on body.

  I finally look back at him, trying to look bored, and he has a shameless smile on his face. He’s not buying my boredom for a minute. He knows exactly what he was trying to achieve when he was giving me my rub down.

  “Did you need to tell me something?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him. “Wait,” I say, holding up a finger to st
op him. “If it involves a girl, or body parts connecting in places, then I don’t want to know after all,” I say, scrunching my nose at him.

  The last thing I want to hear from those lips are sex stories about other girls, but Matt finds it amusing and throws his head back laughing. When he’s done, he looks at me. “Why don’t you want to know? You aren’t jealous, are you?” he says, wagging his eyebrows.

  Focusing on him, I roll my eyes and look back at the television saying, “Never mind, I don’t want to know after all.”

  “Actually you do, since it involves you,” he states.

  I yank my head back at him, apprehensive about what he’s going to tell me. My face goes into a grimace as I try to think of what he could possibly tell me and he chuckles.

  “You know how I’m running that half in two weeks?”

  Matt had mentioned during one of our runs last week that he was going to run the Portland Marathon again this year, in memory of his sister. That’s why he needed to run long distances every week. He was preparing his body for the race by building endurance and distance. He was running half the distance of a marathon, which would be thirteen miles soon.

  I’m still confused how this involves me. “Yeah. What does that have to do with me?” I ask.

  “Wellll, I signed us up to run a 10k.” He’s says it as if I should be ecstatic about what he’s just said.

  “A what K?”

  “A 10K, it’s a charity race.”

  Ok, I’m all for charity, but it still doesn’t answer why he recruited me to do it with him? “Okay. When is it?”

  “Tomorrow,” he says, tossing my legs off as he stands up, walking away. I’m left wondering why I have to actually run the thing. “Couldn’t you just have made a donation in my name?” I protest from the couch I’m still laying on.

  “Actually, you already did when I registered you, but this kind of donation involves running it as well.”