Unspoken Words (Unspoken #1) Read Free Page A

she was pregnant. You were greedy then, and you’re still greedy now when it comes to food.”
    “Whatever, Christian, shut up and just hug me. It’s been three months since I’ve seen any of you.”
    Christian pulls me into a bear hug and squeezes the air out of me.
    “Alright, let me go. I said give me a hug, not break my ribs.”
    Jamie clears his throat, “Hello, I’m over here. Did the two of you forget about me? You’re beginning to make me feel like a third wheel.”
    Laughing at Jamie, I move away from Christian and wrap my arms around his waist and lean my head against his chest. Jamie has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. Yes, he is my brother’s best friend, too, but Jamie and I have a special bond. For years, Morgan and I tagged along with Christian and Jamie. The boys taught me how to play baseball, climb a tree, throw a football, drive a stick shift. The list of things is endless.
     
    It was our eighth birthday, Christian and I had a baseball-themed party. Our parents offered to have a separate party for each of us, but Christian and I agreed on one theme. Our parents decorated the backyard like a baseball field. Our dad made stands out of wood and placed signs on the front labeled snacks, souvenirs, hot dogs, etc. As you looked around the yard, concession stands appeared in the corners. Our mom had every goodie you could think of on the counter of the snack stand along with an array of chips. My mom had set up a hot dog stand and a pretend souvenir stand with party bags filled with a baseball and a New York Yankees t-shirt.
    When we were able to open our presents, Jamie ran inside. When he returned, he walked over to me with his hands behind his back. He reached out his hands and I scrunched my nose at his gift wrapped in Christmas paper.
    Jamie quickly says, “I wrapped it myself. I know your birthday is July 3 but the paper had cute puppies on it and I know how much you love puppies.”
    I threw my arms around his neck. “I love it.”
    Jamie smiled. “Wait until you open it, you’re gonna love my present more than you love the paper.”
    After tearing the paper off, I quickly tossed the lid to the side. My eyes immediately met Jamie’s because inside the box was the best gift ever. Jamie got me my very own baseball glove.
    A huge smile spread across my face. Glancing around the yard, my eyes finally found my dad. When our eyes met, I held the glove up in the air.
    “You finally got that glove you’ve been asking for,” my dad hollered over the other kids as they watched Christian open up his gifts.
    Turning, my eyes met Jamie’s as he stood there staring at me. “I knew you wanted your own glove. Anytime you want to practice throwing, come get me,” he says with a huge smile on his face.
    My eighth birthday was one of my favorite birthdays. That glove meant the world to me. When the boys would let me play with them, they would loan me one of theirs. My love for baseball was born that day.
     
    Christian played baseball all through high school, his dreams of going pro were shattered when he tore his ACL . . . resulting in surgery and then a shitload of physical therapy. Rather than going to college on an athletic scholarship, Christian went to NYU and focused on his academics. He double majored in business and music engineering production.
    I, on the other hand, attended Stanford on a full athletic scholarship for softball. Obviously, I had the grades as well. My decision to attend Stanford wasn’t based solely upon my scholarship, Stanford has an incredible Journalism program.
    Growing up with Christian and Jamie, sports was something I was always around. That is how my love for the game developed. The countless hours of training, whether I was at the gym, on the field, or at the batting cages, all paid off, playing softball at the collegiate level was a dream come true.
    I never imagined I would have played the sport I fell in love with until I was twenty-two years old.