Unspoken Memories (Unspoken Series) (11 page)

 

 

 

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 house, 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.”

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