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Unspoken Endings

Page 11

by Gabbie S. Duran


  “I got distracted,” I throw back at him, which isn’t entirely untrue. Matt does have a way of always distracting me.

  Holding the card higher in the air, he yells, “This isn’t something you keep from me, Abigail!”

  Damn... He’s used my name. He’s truly pissed.

  “Was this the first time?”

  Shit. Closing my eyes knowing I can’t lie to him again, I shake my head in response.

  “When did you start getting them?”

  “I got the first one earlier this week,” I truthfully admit.

  “What did it say?”

  Forcing myself to remember exactly what it said, I answer him. “Something about me not being able to be the same person as before,” I reply. “I thought maybe it was one of the other models, so I didn’t think anything of it.”

  He looks at me skeptically. “Anymore after that?” he asks through what I’m sure are clenched teeth.

  “Another during my first rehearsal,” I quietly admit, remembering the note. “I’m always watching you,” I rasp out, bracing myself for his reaction.

  “Does Julio know about them?” he angrily asks.

  “No,” I whisper. Had Matt been one of those animated cartoons, I’m sure he’d have smoke coming out of his ears, his face a mask of stone. Stepping away to pace the room, he tightly clutches the paper in his hand, his knuckles turning white from the action.

  Snapping his head, he turns to glare at me. “You’re not leaving the house until I find out who sent the notes.”

  “What?” I shockingly let out. “You can’t order me to stay locked up!”

  His face is back to looking like a stone. “Take it how you want, Abigail, but I refuse to let you risk getting killed over you being careless.”

  My mouth drops open to gape at him. “Careless? Is that what you think of me?” I furiously throw at him as he begins pacing the room again.

  “I don’t mean it like that,” he says as he rushes to close the distance he’d put between us. “Abigail, I love you too much to lose you to him.” His hands hold onto my waist as if fearful I’d run.

  “But we have no proof that it’s really him. It could just be one of the other models I was working with,” I suggest, but somehow deep in my heart I know I’m lying to myself as well.

  “Regardless, there’s someone making threats and I don't like it,” he growls.

  “You can’t keep me caged up like an animal, Matt.”

  A heavy sigh escapes his lips. “You’re right. I can’t,” he confesses. “But I’m afraid you’re back to the old rules. I meant what I said, beautiful. I refuse to let anyone hurt you,” he declares, slowly pulling me to his body.

  Automatically wrapping my arms around his waist and leaning into his body, I silently stand there in his arms. Minutes later he sternly instructs, “Just don’t keep any more notes from me.”

  It’s hard to agree to, but I do so with a nod. He’s embracing me tighter into his chest and places a kiss on my temple as if it will make all my troubles go away. I know it won’t, but a girl can hope.

  I’M PLAYING WITH Abigail’s bracelet as she lies draped across my chest, still arguing into the phone. The ringtone indicated it’s the director she is talking to. With her head resting sideways, I run my hand through the strands of her hair to try to calm her. It helps until I hear, “And I’m telling you again. Since I had nothing on my schedule for this week I decided to leave the city. How was I supposed to know you’d spring a photo shoot on me last minute?”

  Tilting my head to get a better view of her face, the sight is utterly comical. She looks ready to strangle someone as she stares off into the distance, grimacing while she listens. I’m biting down on my lip to refrain from smiling. She looks so cute when she’s agitated.

  “Have you even heard from her?” She releases an exasperated sigh as she demands to know more information. “Email me the information. But you have to stop pulling this shit!” She’s rolling her eyes at his response, making me lightly laugh this time because of her sassy attitude. I already know Abigail can be a force to deal with when she’s pissed, which is why I don’t dare bring it out of her unless I have to.

  Right when I think she’s done arguing with them, she adds, “You may be paying me to do the show, but I still have the original offer and nowhere does it state I was obligated to do extra shit on the side on demand,” hanging up the phone, effectively ending the call after her last statement.

  She still looks furious as she lets out a frustrated growl. Wanting to take her frustration away, I dig my fingers into her side, tickling her. “Matt! Stop it!” she angrily yells as she tries to squirm her way out of my hold.

  Wrapping my arms and legs around her, I trap her. We’re both now laughing as she continues to attempt escape. Suddenly, I remember the last time I was tickling her like this on the couch and when she lifts her head to look at me, I kiss her. Looping my hand behind her neck to hold her in place, I tilt my head to deepen our kiss. This is what I should have done the very first time I tickled her on the couch. It’s what I anxiously wanted to do, but my fear of losing her if I broke her heart as I had purposely done with every girl who’d come my way stopped me from doing so. Every day, I fought so hard to keep her at a distance, to keep her safe, but it caused us to make mistakes.

  I pull away, left breathless from the beautiful smile she’s giving me. “I love you,” I say, my heart swelling as I say the words to her.

  “I love you, too,” she says in return before kissing me again.

  The heat of the moment reminds me of something else I’d wanted to do back then, and can easily do now... Make love to Abigail.

  My hands are already inside her shirt gliding against her warm skin, lifting it over her head as the doorbell goes off.

  Glancing at the door, she turns to me and asks, “You expecting someone?”

  “No. You?”

  She tenses above me as her eyes stay locked onto the door. Sliding her onto the couch, I stand up and head towards the door. “Go to the room and lock the door,” I order her. Without questioning me, she gets up and practically rushes down the hallway. Glancing over my shoulder, I make sure the door to our room is completely shut. I’ve been meaning to put in a peephole and right now more than ever, I regret not doing it sooner.

  Reaching the door, I grab the bat I’d placed there the other day, having it ready but hidden behind the door as I slightly open it. Through the crack of the door, I see a FedEx delivery guy holding an envelope in his hands.

  “Matthew Garcia?” he curiously asks, waiting for my reaction.

  “Yeah, that’s me.”

  He hands me the envelope, practically forcing me to take it before thrusting his little machine at me. “Sign here, please,” he orders next. Placing the bat under my armpit, I sign my name. Wishing him a good day, I shut and lock the door, already seeing Abigail peeking from the hallway.

  Disbelievingly arching my eyebrow at her, I’m disappointed she’s standing there. “I didn’t hear any arguing so I figured it was safe,” she says with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. “What did you get?” Abigail asks, already at my side.

  “I have no clue,” I answer as I tear open the envelope. Inside is another envelope. After opening that one, I start reading the letter it contains. My eyes quickly scan the words and my heart halts to a stop before it hastily starts up again.

  “Is this good?” she asks.

  Still speechless from the letter, my hands begin to slightly tremble. All I can do is nod as I force myself to take measured breaths, because if I don’t, I may just past out from the lightheadedness I’m feeling.

  Finding my voice, I scan the letter again. “They only invite the first round players to the draft. It pretty much means you’re guaranteed to be picked up by a team.” The words come out barely above a whisper as I’m still in shock.

  “Oh. My. God!” Abigail shouts as her arms wrap around my neck, hopping up and down in excitement. If I weren’t
already breathless, she would have extracted every ounce of breath from how tightly she’s hugging me. I’m still in shock from what I’ve just read, but Abigail’s feathered kisses spreading across my face bring me back to reality.

  “Holy. Shit!” I roar out.

  Abigail is still bouncing up and down at my side. “I guess we’re both going back to New York!” she says in an excited squeal.

  Just as excited, I reply, “I guess we are,” still unbelieving of how lucky I am right now. Trey walks through the door and Abigail is already shouting the exciting news.

  “Matt got invited to the NFL draft!”

  His eyes go wide in shock. “No. Fucking. Way!” he whoops, rushing to grab the letter from my hands. Surrendering the letter, he looks just as shocked as I felt when reading it. “Dude, it’s during the week of spring break,” he declares. “I want to go,” he states in a light plea, looking between Abigail and me.

  “Of course!” Abigail shouts back to him, already digging her phone out of her pocket and calling someone. “Kelly! You’ll never believe what Matt just got,” she says walking back into the living room, excitedly giving her the details. “I know right!” I soon hear her say, making me chuckle.

  Trey engulfs me in a hug, shaking me from my astonished state. “Congratulations, man.”

  Guilt hits me as we pull apart. I stare at Trey before looking down at the letter again. “Thanks, man,” I guiltily reply, feeling a pang of regret it isn’t him as well. Trey looks up at me with a frown on his lips, which at first worries me.

  “What’s wrong?” he confusedly asks.

  “I don’t know, man,” I answer, shrugging my shoulders as I rub at the back of my neck and look down at the floor. “I just feel bad because all this is happening to me and not you too,” I truthfully admit.

  “Yeah, I’ll admit I’m a bit jealous,” he confesses. When my head snaps up, he has a playful smirk on his lips. “But you’re like a brother to me, man, and I couldn’t be happier it’s you. I know if it was me you would feel the same way.”

  Nodding at him, I smile. “Of course I would be,” I truthfully answer.

  Abigail rushes back to our sides, looking more excited than earlier. “I invited Kelly and David as well.”

  “Damn, supermodel. You’re just making a party out of this,” Trey jokes.

  “This is a very important thing for Matt, and they insisted on coming.”

  For a moment, I felt a heavy ache inside from not being able to call Emily to give her the great news. It’s the first thing I would have done in the past, but looking at Abigail’s excited gleam lightens me up just the same. It’s as if Emily is also here next to me. Her eyes meet mine and she’s still radiating excitement before throwing herself into my arms. I may not physically have my sister at my side any longer, but what she’s given me in her place is satisfying enough and there is nothing better in the world.

  LOOKING AROUND THE room making sure I’ve packed everything I can think of, I turn my attention back to my suitcase, already doubting it will close easily. Standing back while I crossly stare at it, I refuse to be defeated by a piece of luggage. As I’m contemplating what I should try next, I hear Matt chuckling behind me.

  “Here, you sit on it while I zip it up,” he suggests.

  “Why didn’t I think of that?” I huff out as I throw my hands up in frustration.

  He laughs as he lifts me to sit on the suitcase. “Next time don’t overpack,” he proclaims, already zipping it closed under me.

  “I need options this week,” I tell him, remembering everything I’ve packed. I’d ordered the largest suitcase I could find for this trip, wanting to take as many options as the luggage will allow me to pack.

  He pulls back from me, looking skeptical. “Since the day I’ve met you, you’ve never cared what anyone else thinks about what you’re wearing.”

  Hanging my head in shame, I know he’s right. “That was before. During the week I was in New York, everyone around me crudely looked at me because of the way I was dressed,” I confess around the lump now forming in my throat as tears threaten to emerge. “I just want to look nice for your event,” I admit.

  The memories of the looks I received pass through my mind as Matt lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his stare. “You don’t have to impress anyone. If they don’t like you for who you are, then they don’t need to be in your life. You’re beautiful inside and out, beautiful. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you aren’t,” he says to me, followed by a kiss. When he pulls back, the sincerity in his eyes and the smile on his face makes me light up, pushing any doubt I had aside—including the tears. It reminds me that I don’t have to please anyone but him, and if he loves me for who I am, then so should I.

  I lift my legs up to wrap around his waist, pulling him towards me to close the gap between us. My hand reaches inside his shorts to wrap around the warm skin of his shaft. “Beautiful,” he manages between our kiss. “We’re going to be late,” he mumbles against my lips, making me giggle from the strain in his voice.

  “We rarely get to have quickies,” I murmur back. “I think we need to have one right now,” I suggest.

  Using my legs and feet, I push his shorts and boxer briefs down, leaving him exposed and ready for me. I know I’ve won when I feel his hands yanking at the button of my jeans. Unhooking my legs from his waist so I can help, I lift my hips so they can come off. In my mind, I think Matt is going to lower me back down next to the luggage, but I’m proven wrong when my ass is dropped onto it and he’s pushing himself between my legs, guiding himself into me. The roughness of the material is digging into my ass as he frantically rocks back and forth. I already know this will not end well on my rear end, but the pleasure I’m feeling may just be worth it.

  MATT LAUGHS AS I wince from trying to get comfortable. “Shut up,” I say with a glare, only making him laugh harder. Normally his laugh would make me smile, but right now it’s irritating me since he’s the reason why I’m wincing. The person behind me causes me to give another cringe as my seat is shoved forward.

  Normally I fly first or business class, but since the entire gang was coming, it was more economical to fly coach, leaving me very limited space between Julio and Matt.

  “I need to go to the bathroom,” Julio informs us before standing and leaving us alone.

  Matt leans down, his lips merely inches from my ear as his warm breath caresses my skin. “How’s your ass?” he huskily whispers. Although the question is sending shivers down my spine, I still playfully shove at him. “You’re the one who wanted a quickie. I delivered,” he proudly proclaims.

  I glare at him as I fight to contain the smile that wants to creep up my lips. “I didn’t ask for my butt to be rubbed raw,” I retort. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you took a layer of skin off of my ass,” I say with a grimace, remembering the pain mixed with pleasure as Matt kept pounding into me. Half of my screams were from the chafing on my butt gliding back and forth over the rough material.

  “I’ll gladly kiss it better once we’re alone in our own hotel room,” he promises while placing a kiss on my neck. His words make me smile as I envision him keeping that promise. Entwining his fingers into mine, he asks, “Are you excited about this week?”

  I nod my head in reply then ask, “Are you nervous?”

  He lets out a deep breath through his lips. “Nervous as fuck. There’s only one team I really want to play for, but at this point I’ll take anything,” he answers.

  No matter how much I’ve insisted he tell me which team he wants to play for, Matt never divulged the information claiming he didn’t want to jinx himself. I squeeze his hand to comfort him. “All that matters is that you’re going to get picked,” I reassure him.

  He answers with a nod as I lean in to kiss him, causing me to wince again. Matt chuckles against my lips and I give him another playful swat. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it,” he laughs out.

  “You just wait until I put your ass on a carpet and ri
de you. I’ll be the one laughing when you have rug burn on your ass,” I throw back at him, turning to face the seat in front of me.

  “I look forward to it,” he answers. Rolling my eyes, I realize my life is never boring with Matt in it, and I don’t want to imagine ever being without him again.

  I STARE AT myself in the mirror as I rotate my body from side to side, unsatisfied with my current choice. Removing the dress as fast as I can, I toss it onto the floor and grab for the next one, hastily putting it on. Rushing back to the mirror, I proceed with the process of analyzing the dress as I’d done with the previous one.

  “Damn, you look sexy,” Matt’s deep voice says to me from the bathroom. He’s only wearing a towel around his waist, his hair still slightly damp from his shower.

  Looking back into the mirror again to take another look, I ask, “Are you sure?” Doubting he’s telling the truth.

  In the reflection of the mirror, I see him move behind me, his hands now resting on my hips. His hooded eyes lock onto my reflection, sending a jolt of shivers down my naked spine.

  “I think it’s perfect,” he huskily responds, taking his hand from my waist. I feel his finger touching my lower back right were the material meets my tailbone. His finger gradually starts to float up my back inch by tantalizing inch, making my body ignite with flames. A gasp escapes my lips as my heart rapidly speeds up.

  Lowering his mouth to my ear, he whispers, “I don’t know if I like the idea of you not wearing a bra. I can see how hard your nipples are from here, which means everyone else will, too.”

  My eyes shoot to my breast and staring back at me are my hardened nipples beneath the silk material of my dress. The spark of desire coursing through my body has rendered me speechless and unable to defend myself. Matt’s hands spread across my ribs and into my dress, gliding to the front of my body. Cupping my breasts in each one of his hands, he roughly squeezes them. I throw my head back to land on his shoulder and let out a pleasured groan. Since my hair is already up and styled, Matt’s lips slowly start tormenting me with kisses across the back of my neck. My hands reach behind to grip his waist and I pull him up flush to my body. His hardened erection is pressing against my butt, jumping every couple of seconds.

 

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