Unbreakable Read online

  Copyright ©2013 Rebecca Martinez

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and storylines are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the written permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover photo by: Aleksandra Kirievskaya

  Cover design by: Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations

  Edited by: Mary Kelley, Adept Edits

  Formatted by: Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Connect with Rebecca Shea

  One of my favorite author’s Michelle Leighton wrote,

  “Every broken person’s worst fear—that no one will be able to love us in spite of our scars.”

  This book is dedicated to anyone who’s ever been broken. You are loved—scars and all.

  Being a wallflower is definitely not my style. I normally work the room: socializing, making the rounds—enjoying myself. I usually know everyone and am rarely the outsider. Yet, here I stand, pressed against the wall in the living room of a house that is too small for this many people. It’s family weekend at the University of Arizona, and we’ve come to see Gabe and watch his football game. Gabe is a junior and a wide receiver for the U of A football team.

  I’m here for the weekend with the Garcia’s since my dad is working. I normally stay with the Garcia’s, our neighbors in Santa Ruiz, when my father can’t be around because of his job. They have watched me for at least four days a week for the last thirteen years while my dad spent his time climbing the career ladder. Dad is the Fire Chief for the Santa Ruiz Fire Department—I’m very much an afterthought for him. The Garcia’s, Gabe’s family, have really taken me in and accepted me as a member of their family.

  Trying to look normal while holding a red Solo cup of diet coke, I sneak glances at Gabe while he moves around his house, entertaining the people who are here at his party. Ava, Gabe’s little sister, and my best friend, is talking to Josh, one of Gabe’s roommates that she met on a previous trip to Arizona. Pulling my cell phone from my back pocket, I tap out a text message to Max, one of my friends at home.

  What am I missing in Santa Ruiz?

  Adrian and Me ;) How’s AZ?

  Hot.

  God, if he only knew what my interpretation of ‘hot’ really meant.

  I can’t imagine I’m missing much back home. The life of an honor-roll student in Santa Ruiz is about as exciting as watching paint dry, but normally Ava and I would be spending the evening with Max and Adrian, our two best ‘guy friends’, going to dinner or to the movies.

  Waiting for Max to text me back, I find Gabe again in the sea of people. Some tramp is hanging on his arm and whispering in his ear. Leaning forward to get a better look, I feel the cold drink running down the front of me before an overly large man falls into me, pinning me against the wall.

  “What the fuck!” I yell, trying to push him forward so I can breathe.

  “Ah, sorry,” he says, laughing as he backs away.

  I’m definitely out of my element here. The girls are gorgeous and hardly wearing any clothes while the boys are not really boys anymore, but men. And here I stand, in a corner, covered in an entire cup of cheap keg beer.

  “Fucking great,” I mumble to myself, shoving my phone into my back pocket while tugging at my fitted white cap-sleeve t-shirt that looks as if it’s been painted on. My denim shorts are wet down the front too, so not only do I have a wet t-shirt, but it also looks like I’ve pissed myself.

  “What happened?” Gabe is laughing when he takes in the sight of me drenched in beer.

  “What does it look like?” I ask sarcastically, glaring at the beast of a man that dumped his drink down the front of me. Grabbing my hand, Gabe pulls me through the crowded living room and down a hallway. Pulling the keys from his front pocket, he unlocks his door.

  “You have to lock your bedroom door?” I ask him.

  “We all do. There are so many people in and out of here, I don’t want them messing with my shit,” he says pulling me into his room and closing the door behind us.

  The room is dark, the only light coming from the glow of a small desk lamp. Gabe hasn’t changed since he’s left home; his room is immaculate. There’s nothing on the floor, and even his desk is neat and orderly. Opening the closet door, he pulls a navy blue t-shirt off a hanger and hands it to me.

  “Here, change into this,” he says, brushing past me. He sits down at his desk and begins checking his e-mail. I back away a bit more into the dark, turning around so my back is to him. Pulling my wet t-shirt off of me, I toss it to the floor and pull the clean t-shirt over my head. It’s so big that it hangs past my cut-off jean shorts, and now it looks like I’m not wearing any bottoms. I can smell the laundry detergent on the shirt, but I can also smell the slightest hint of Gabe. I pull the collar of the shirt up just under my nose and inhale deeply. Turning back around, Gabe is sitting in his chair watching me.

  “You look good in my shirt,” he says quietly.

  “Thanks for letting me borrow it,” I smile and chew in the inside of my bottom lip nervously. His hazel eyes shift to rake over me from head to toe. Fidgeting with the hem of his too long t-shirt, my pulse starts racing. He continues to stare at me, not saying anything.

  “What?” I ask him, tilting my head.

  Pushing himself up from his chair, he walks to
ward me, stopping to pick up my wet t-shirt. Standing up he inches closer to me, so that we’re face to face and I can feel his warm breath sweep across my cheek. Smelling his light cologne, or maybe it’s his body wash, whatever it is, it’s perfection.

  “I missed you,” he whispers, our eyes never breaking contact. “I’m glad you came this weekend.”

  “I missed you too,” I whisper back, swallowing hard. “It’s quiet without you at home.”

  “Tell me how much you have missed me, Jess.” Gabe orders, causing a slight tremble to roll through my body. I can feel my pulse beating in the back of my throat, making it difficult to swallow. Before I have time to reply, Gabe’s nose presses against the side of mine, his lips mere millimeters from mine. I want so badly to just lean forward, to press my lips to his, but I’m too nervous.

  “I’ve missed you . . . a lot,” I stutter quietly. With a slight lean his soft lips press against mine, and my head falls back just slightly. Gabe pulls my bottom lip into his mouth and gently sucks. My legs tremble as he moves his soft lips across mine and my stomach flips as he deepens his kiss. Pausing, he pulls away and holds my face with both of his hands. Looking deeply into my eyes, he’s searching for unspoken desires. My heart races as my lips answer and I press my mouth to his, capturing the only thing I’ve ever wanted—him.

  KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

  “Jess, are you in there?” Ava yells through the door. The knocking startles me and Gabe walks over to the door and unlocks it.

  “There you are,” she says, pushing past Gabe and entering the room. “I was looking everywhere for you.” Walking across the room, she throws herself onto Gabe’s chair with a loud sigh, and scrunches her eyebrows together at the sight of me in Gabe’s t-shirt.

  “Some asshole dumped an entire glass of beer down the front of my shirt, so Gabe let me borrow this,” I say, tugging at the oversized t-shirt.

  “Well it’s a good thing Mom and Dad are here now to get us, because you aren’t going to get laid looking like a bag lady.” She snorts, and I realize how ridiculous I look.

  “Ava, don’t fucking joke around about that,” Gabe says glaring at her.

  “Relax Gabe, Jesus,” she says jumping out of the chair. “Miss Goody Two-Shoes wouldn’t give it up at a keg party anyway.” Ava rolls her eyes. “Give Jess her shirt. We need to go unless you want dad in here shutting down this shindig.”

  Gabe hands me my wet shirt as Ava tugs me through his room. Glancing back over my shoulder, he is standing next to his bed with his hands on his hips and a small smile spread across his lips. Those lips will be my downfall.

  “What’cha reading?” he asks, jogging over to get the basketball that has rolled to my feet.

  “Some romance series that everyone is raving about.” I use my hands to shield the front cover so he can’t see the picture or title.

  I’m distracted by the sweat that’s rolling down his large, muscular frame, along his golden bare chest, and over every last curve of his perfect abdominal muscles to the fine dusting of dark hair just below his belly button. I swallow hard then lose track of that little bead of sweat as it travels even lower. All of Gabe Garcia is perfection in my eyes—he is my Adonis.

  “Any good?”

  “Oh, ah…”

  “The book Jess, is the book any good?” he’s laughing at me now. Shit.

  I nod nervously and pull myself out of my Gabe-induced coma.

  “Yeah, actually, it’s really good. Anything is better than text books.”

  His hazel eyes look greener today as the sun is shining directly on his bronzed face. His eyelashes are long and accentuate his beautiful almond-shaped eyes, and his dark brown hair is a tussled mess from playing basketball.

  “You might actually enjoy it more if you turned it the right way.” He laughs, picking up the basketball and dribbling it back to the five guys that are standing there waiting for him. Looking at the book I’m holding in my lap, he’s right, I’ve been holding it upside down as I’ve spent the better half of the last twenty-five minutes ‘pretending’ to read it. Embarrassed that I’ve been caught, I toss my book into my large bag, and fold the blanket I’ve been sitting. Glancing back over my shoulder, I see him shooting free throws as I leave the park and walk down the street to his house.

  I’ve known the Garcia’s since I was four years old. My dad moved us here to Santa Ruiz, California right after my mom died. He took a job as a firefighter and has made it his number one priority to work his way up the career ladder, literally, to become Fire Chief, which he finally made about five years ago. So while dad was burying himself in his career, our neighbors, the Garcia’s, essentially raised me.

  I’ve had a crush on Gabe since I was around fifteen. For the past few years, I’ve watched him date other girls, go away to college, come home, and leave again. But it was last fall, on a visit for family weekend that something changed with us. We’ve never talked about that night, but the small glances, the touches here and there, tell me there’s something more.

  Walking up the driveway to the Garcia’s house, this will be the last weekend that I will stay with them. Since Ava and I technically finished school yesterday, Dad made me a deal that I could start staying at our house alone when he was at work. After all, I’m eighteen, and it’s really about time that he can trust his straight A honor student to take care of herself. Shit, I’ve been practically doing it for my entire life anyway.

  “How was the park?” Angelica, Gabe’s mom asks as I enter the side door that opens into the kitchen. “Hot.” I mumble reaching into the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

  “Yeah, it’s a warm one today. Don’t run until later Jess, it’s just too hot right now.”

  “I won’t. I’m going to take a quick nap and then run later.” I kiss her on the cheek as I move toward the stairs to take me to the bedroom I share with Ava.

  “Hey,” Ava says as I toss my bag onto our bedroom floor.

  “Still working on your speech?” As Valedictorian, Ava is speaking at Saturday’s commencement and has been obsessed with perfecting her speech. Truth be told, she could stand up there with nothing prepared and sound amazing, it’s just her nature. She’s personable, outgoing, and feisty.

  “Yeah. How was the park?”

  “Good until Gabe and the guys showed up. They were so loud I couldn’t concentrate on reading.”

  I notice Ava isn’t even listening to me because she’s so wrapped up in writing her speech. Pushing the headphones from my iPhone into my ears I turn the music on low and lie down on my bed. Closing my eyes, I try to fall asleep, but I all I can see is Gabe at the park: his eyes, the sweat, his bare chest—shit.

  Finally calming down, my mind still wanders to where that little bead of sweat traveled to as sleep slowly takes over.

  Waking up I feel rested, full of energy, and ready for a run. Running is therapy for me. When I run, I don’t think or feel. Stress, worries, or anxieties temporarily disappear—it’s just me and my music. Lately I’ve been pushing myself harder, adding more distance or increasing my pace. I will admit there is something slightly disturbing about the excitement I feel when my lungs burn or my legs want to give out, yet I continue to push myself harder.

  I change into a pair of black capri running pants and a hot pink tank top. Standing at the full-length mirror I look myself over from head to toe. I can pick out every flaw on my body in this outfit, which only motivates me to run faster, harder. I’m momentarily pulled out of my negative thoughts when there is a light rap on the door.

  “Come in.” The door opens slowly and Gabe peeks his head in. “Hey,” he says with his deep voice and a smile.

  “Hey.”

  “Ava in here?”

  “Nope. I just woke up and haven’t seen her.” I shrug and pull my long hair off of my neck and onto the top of my head as I tie a binder around the messy bun.

  “Going for a run?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Want some company?” I pause at h
is question. He’s never run with me before, I try not to smile. Of course I want him to run with me.

  “Sure.”

  “You don’t sound so convincing.” He laughs and steps closer. With two quick steps he’s directly in front of me, and I still. My throat tightens up with him this close to me. I can smell the light scent of his body wash. I take in the sight of him in a pair of faded blue jeans and a tight white t-shirt. Our eyes meet and I feel his hand brush my shoulder. His fingers slide under the strap of my tank top untwisting it. I hadn’t realized the straps were twisted with those of my sports bra.

  “You were twisted,” he says quietly his hand still on my shoulder.

  “Thanks.” I whisper, swallowing hard as I notice the flecks of gold sparkling in his hazel eyes.

  “I should get changed. I’ll meet you downstairs,” he says, his hand falling from my shoulder, lightly running down my arm as he backs away toward the door. I release the breath I was holding and feel the adrenaline that is coursing through my veins. Grabbing my tennis shoes, I sit down on the edge of my bed and put them on. My heart is still beating rapidly and it amazes me that his touch can cause such an intense reaction.

  I nervously rub my arms as I wait for him downstairs. A minute later he comes bounding down the stairs. He’s changed into a pair of black athletic shorts and a tight grey compression shirt.

  “Ready?” he asks, placing his hand on the small of my back while guiding me toward the front door. His touch immediately sends a shiver through me. How does he do that?

  “Ready.”

  “So where do you normally run?” he asks as we walk down the driveway toward the street.

  “Usually just down Main Street to the entrance of Washington Park then back. It’s about three miles there and back.”

  “You always run three miles?” he asks stretching his arms over his head.

  “Usually around five miles, today is just a quick three miles though.” I see his eyes widen when I mention I normally run further. “I’ll keep my pace steady, just try to keep up,” I say starting into a slow jog.