She turns to look at the screen again as image after image continues to appear on the screen, captivated, as if she cannot believe with her own eyes that she’s the girl on the screen.
The photographer hands his camera over to his assistant and is now looking over to Abigail. “Thank you, Ms. Adams,” he says, his eyes looking seductively over at her. “I hope to be able to work with you again in the future.” The flirtatious tone telling me he means more than just work. I cannot resist wrapping my arm around her waist, pulling her closer to my side. She attempts to pull away, but I keep my hand firmly gripped on her waist, refusing to let her go as I stare the photographer down.
“If you’re done, she’ll be moving on now,” I sharply say to him. He gives Abigail a curt nod and is soon walking away without another attempt. She turns to face me with fury in her eyes. “Why did you do that?” she snaps out.
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”
She narrows her eyes at me and is about to argue, but is interrupted when we’re approached by a lady who is now staring at us both with a curiously raised eyebrow. “Hello, Ms. Adams. My name is Samantha Clark and I’ll be conducting your interview,” she states, holding her hand out to shake Abigail’s. Abigail obliges with a friendly smile. “It’s nice to meet you,” she answers.
“It’s nice to meet you, as well. If you don’t mind, I’d like to start now,” she tells Abigail, nodding her head to where there are two directors’ chairs.
“Great,” Abigail responds, already pulling away from my hold. She takes two steps before whipping around to face me again. “The next time you try to stake a claim on me, remember I’m not the one who put us in the situation we’re in,” she utters before turning again to stomp away. I’m left watching her as I agonize over her words.
She catches up to Samantha who is now sitting in one of the chairs a couple of feet away from us. I stay behind with Julio. “It’s going to be a while before she forgives you,” Julio mocks behind me.
“Yeah, I know, but I have to keep trying,” I solemnly state, watching from a distance as Abigail begins to answer her questions. “It’ll pay off in the long run,” I add, hoping he understands.
“SO, MS. ADAMS, why running?” the interviewer asks, her eyebrow going up to one side as she taps her pen against her notepad, which is beginning to annoy me.
At first my earlier nervousness began to resurface the minute I sat in the chair, but it’s easily replaced with irritation as she taps her pen. She started the interview with basic instructions to answer as truthfully as possible. It had sounded easy then, but I’d grown nervous as soon as I nodded my head to answer.
The annoying thump, thump, thump is increasing as she waits for an answer. Her obnoxious stare is a reminder that I need to answer. “It’s relaxing,” I nervously say. “It also helps with the stress,” I add for further explanation. She lowers her head to takes notes, but just as quickly snaps it back up. “What would you say your stress is from?” she inquires.
“Life,” I say abruptly and without further explanation, but she seems unsatisfied. “Would you say your amnesia plays a major factor with your stress?” she asks, sounding as if she’s trying to convey a statement rather than ask a question.
“No,” I respond directly. I can already tell from her unsatisfied expression that she’s going to push the subject. “Have you recovered any memories from before your accident?” she asks, continuing her annoying interrogation, still tapping her pen. I shake my head at her, making her pen pause; her disoriented expression is now worrying me. “And that hasn’t worried you?” she asks, looking puzzled.
“No,” I clip out.
Dropping her head, she resumes her scribbling, but is already asking her next question. “How do you feel now that your amnesia has impacted your career and life?” adding before I can reply, “Since obviously your career is no longer the same.”
I look over in the direction of where Matt and Julio are standing as I consider her question. “No, it isn’t, but I’m satisfied with it how it’s turned out,” I utter, still staring at Matt. When I had turned to face him, he was briefly focused on Julio as they carried on a conversation, but the moment his eyes found mine, he gave me a smile that lit me up from the inside out. Any doubt Samantha was attempting to put upon me is quickly pushed away.
“Do you plan on returning to modeling?” she asks, bringing my attention back to her. “It would be a waste if you didn’t,” she adds.
“Regardless of what my future plans are, they’re going to be decisions I make for myself,” I affirm, already starting to feel irritated by the interview.
“You recently broke your engagement from your manager. Would that be a major factor as to why you haven’t returned to modeling? Or has the amnesia affected your memory that contributes to your career?”
“My amnesia had nothing to do with my career. I did well during the photo shoot, didn’t I?” I clip out, earning me a simple nod. “Obviously my lack of knowing who I was before my accident has nothing to do with my modeling. I needed a break from it. The breakup with my manager was due to personal reasons that I’d prefer not to discuss in this interview,” I mutter. My blood is beginning to boil at this point. My leg is beginning to slowly twitch from the irritation. Feeling as if I need to further explain my answer, I add, “And like I stated earlier, it’s my future I should be focusing on, not my past,” I growl out.
“You resurfaced with a recent running company. Was that because of the loss of contract with your manager as well?” she continues to prod.
At this point I’m ready to jump and strangle this bitch. “I didn’t lose my contract, I fulfilled it to term. If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to no longer answer any more questions in regards to my previous manager or my amnesia since it’s irrelevant to your magazine. I thought you were a running company,” I announce, feeling agitated. “Shouldn’t you be asking me something in regards to running?” I ask as calmly as my enraged state will allow me to without sounding like I’m ready to bite her head off. “If you’d prefer,” she retorts.
She turns, her face finding Matt, and I do the same to find him already giving us his signature smile, his lips up to one side before he gives us a quick wave. I already know the gesture is aimed at me, but from the blushed color on Samantha’s face when our eyes meet again, she must have believed it was aimed at her.
“Is your new boyfriend the reason for your new fond love of running?” she inquires. My eyes go wide in shock. “He’s not my boyfriend,” I snap out.
Her lips go up in a smirk. “What would you say he is then? From the way he was protectively guarding you from our notorious photographer, I would have thought otherwise.”
“He’s my assistant, but most of all, a loyal friend,” I state, watching her eyes turn doubtful.
“He’s in most of the pictures provided from your races,” she claims.
“To answer your earlier question, yes, he’s the reason why I took up running. He’s the reason why I’ve run most of them. He did sign me up for them,” I explain.
“Are you implying that you didn’t want to run them?” she pushes with a raised eyebrow.
“No,” I answer as nicely as I can without allowing my anger to surface.
“I was just frightful to sign up for them myself,” I tell her. Of course only a select few know that Matt sort of threw me under the bus to run them, but I still ran them. I was the one with my feet at the starting line and they were the same feet that were crossing the finish line. Whether I signed up for them myself or not, I earned the recognition to say that I ran them.
By the way her lips go flat, it isn’t the answer she was hoping for. “Given the opportunity to run Boston, do you plan to?” she asks. It’s about time she ask me a question I want to answer. “Of course I’d want to run Boston. It’s the Super Bowl of all races. What runner wouldn’t want to run Boston?”
“Of course,” she adds with a smile, taking her usual notes. “Well
, I believe that’s all I need,” she informs me before standing up, leaving me dumbfounded.
“That’s it?” I feel cheated as I ask the question. I feel as if she’s pissed that she didn’t get the gossip she wanted, so this is her way of punishing me. I suppose I should feel ecstatic she’s no longer grilling me, but I feel disappointed nevertheless.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Matt and Julio making their way over to my side. It’s when Matt reaches us that Samantha lightens up. “All done?” he asks, looking satisfied himself.
“Yup, all done,” Samantha quickly answers, beating me to the reply.
“Ms. Adams, if you’d kindly come with us, you’ll be allowed to change over here,” a member of the camera crew tell me, her arm extended towards a tent they have constructed. I’d forgotten I still was still wearing the running apparel they had provided for their shoot.
“I’ll wait for you here,” Matt informs me with a blank expression, but Samantha’s excited expression worries me.
I follow the girl with Julio closely behind me. When I reach the tent, I take one quick glance back in their direction. As suspected, Samantha is already talking Matt’s ear off as he listens with interest. His face is still expressionless, giving me the reassurance needed to step into the tent.
Five minutes later, I’m stepping back out, but the sight I left is not what I find now. Matt is smiling at something that Samantha is saying. His once bland expression has been replaced with his carefree smile as he gives her his full attention. I watch as she reaches up to flirtatiously caress his arms as if she’s feeling his bulging muscles. Both throw their heads back laughing. The sight of her touching him ignites the anger I had managed to tamper down before I left them. I’m practically stomping my way over to them now. Matt sees me as he continues to smile, somehow making me angrier. “You ready to go?” I snap at him.
“You’re leaving already?” Samantha whines up at Matt.
“I did arrive with her, so yes,” he replies with a small chuckle.
“I can give you a ride home,” Samantha says, her hand once again coming to rest on his arm as she bats her eyelashes up at Matt. “I’m sure Abigail would be nice enough to give you the rest of the day off,” she states.
I look straight at Matt, my eyes narrowing at him. “Of course. He has a nice new table that needs to be broken in,” I slowly clip out through clenched teeth, already regretting the words as I turn to walk away without a backwards glance.
I reach Lola and I’m about to open my door when I feel Matt grab onto my wrist, preventing me from opening it. When I turn to face him, he’s inches from me, our bodies practically touching. I step back to get away from him, but my back crashes against the cold metal of my car. I’m trapped with Matt closely leaning into me. My body starts prickling with excitement, knowing how close he’s standing in front of me. My body might be awaking with excitement, but Matt’s reaction is far from it as a frown is casted across his face. I know he understood the meaning behind my message. “Why would you say something like that? What’s wrong?”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I attempt to control the rage building up inside of me, which is keeping me from answering. A frown spreads across his lips. “Did she say something during the interview to upset you?” he grimly asks.
“It wasn’t the interview,” I snarl out. “I don’t like her.”
He still looks perplexed, but slowly his lips creep up into a grin. “You’re jealous of her, aren’t you?” he mocks, the question making me resent my earlier reaction.
“It’s stupid… I know. I don’t know why I’m acting like this,” I admit with a sigh. His lips come near my ear. “No one can ever compare to you, beautiful,” he huskily whispers into my ear. If I weren’t leaning against my car for support, I’m pretty sure I would collapse to the ground from those words. The sound of Julio clearing his throat makes both Matt and I look in his direction. I see Samantha walking her way over, looking astounded. Unintentionally, I shove Matt away from me.
“I thought you said there was nothing going on between both of you?” Samantha asks upon reaching us, looking between the two of us with a puzzled expression. Matt gives me an angry scowl, but I frantically shake my head when I remember my interview.
“There isn’t,” I state, my eyes pleading for him to understand. He looks torn whether to feel angry or disappointment by my words, but when he looks over at Samantha, the calmness in his face conveys he understood. “No, there isn’t,” he indicates with a forced smile.
To most people his answer would sound true to his word, but I can hear the pain of declaring those words in his voice. It isn’t until I heard them from his own lips that I regret asking him to state them. I might have fought tooth and nail to make those words sound true, but I’m beginning to wonder if I could accept the meaning behind them.
“Have a good day, Samantha,” Matt announces before stalking his way over to the passenger side of the car. Yanking the car door open, he climbs in. I look at Samantha, shrugging my shoulders at her before climbing into my car, allowing Julio to shut it for me. My eyes find Matt’s in the rearview mirror staring back at me, looking torn all over again. It’s when Julio climbs into the passenger seat that I break our eye contact. From the resentment taking over my soul, I already know the car ride is going to feel like the longest one home.
I STARE OUT the car window. I’m raging inside, but slowly try to calm myself before we make it to Kelly’s. I don’t want to be angry when I get out of the car. I don’t want to risk taking it out on Abigail; it’s the last thing I want to do. When I speak with her, I want to be as calm as possible so to not push her away further.
Abigail has only seen me out of control once, and even then I saw the fear in her eyes. I know deep down in my heart it was from both my actions and what the fucker had done to her that had caused my reaction, but I’d promised myself she would never have to see that side of me again, unless needed. I take another deep breath as my thoughts wander to when Emily had so passionately clarified how woman think.
“Women are sensitive creatures, Matt. You have to be careful with their emotions. If not, they’ll come to resent you for your actions.”
It’s exactly what Abigail is doing. She’s resenting me for breaking her heart. She’s pushing me away. Her denying our relationship to everyone is her way of hurting me in return. She may not be doing it intentionally, but nevertheless, it was happening. She pulls into the parking lot, my eyes closing as I picture Abigail’s smile to help calm me. Her smile has a way of soothing my anguished heart.
Climbing out of the car, I’m already walking to her side, determined to find an answer to her reaction at the park. I reach her and she’s already squaring her shoulders, as if ready to argue. She opens her mouth to begin speaking, but I grab her face and take her mouth passionately with my own. The need for her to understand she’s mine clouded my thoughts the moment I saw her ready for battle. I no longer wanted to fight with her. I never had.
I continue to possess her mouth, knowing I’m robbing her of the only breath she had as she was going to speak, but that was my intention. Her nails dig into the skin of my back as she grips my shirt, as if she’s afraid I’ll pull away. It’s the last thing I intend on doing for the next few minutes. I hadn’t planned on kissing her, but seeing the vulnerability in her body language, telling me she was ready to argue, fueled me to kiss her to make it disappear.
She whimpers into my mouth, awakening my greed to take her back to the apartment and make love to her. I already feel my cock stirring to life and I have to mentally tell my dick this isn’t the reason I’m kissing her. Minutes later, our kiss is coming to an end as I drag it out, not wanting it to stop. Still holding her face in my palm, I gently pull away to watch her eyes flutter open. Her mouth is still slightly open, and her chest is rising and falling. I can feel the strong pulse of her vein in her throat rapidly beating against my fingers. It’s matching my reaction of how she’s made me feel. With her eyes now
open, I can see her beautiful eyes staring back at me at a loss for words. Exactly how I want her.
“Now can we talk about what happened back at the park?” I quietly ask her. For a moment she looks confused, but just as quickly her eyes are scowling back at me. As much as I want to kiss that expression from her face again, I do want to discuss what happened earlier.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Matt. It’s obvious you’re never going to change,” she utters. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I clip out.
She tries to push me away, but I trap her against the car with my arms at her side, not allowing her to escape. “I want to know why you keep telling people we’re not together.”
“Because we’re not!”
What the fuck?
“You can keep saying that to everyone else, but I’m not taking that as an answer. We might not be living together anymore, but we are still together,” I clarify to her, but by the look on her face I believe she thinks otherwise. “Is it truly what you want, Abigail?” I force myself to ask.
Her eyes are glassing up as her lips tremble, resisting the urge to cry. “Give me a reason why?” I dreadfully ask.
“Lisa,” she quietly answers, the pain evident in the single name.
“Abigail, I already told you I refuse to let her come between us,” I plead to her.
“How can you say she isn’t going to come between us? She already has Matt,” she snarls out, angry and irritated. “You fucked her and got her pregnant, Matt. How would you react if the tables were turned in our situation? Did you honestly think I was going to stick around and pretend you getting her pregnant was okay?” she retorts.
Unspoken Promises Page 8
