Boy in a Band (A Morgan Mallory story) (31 page)

"
Wild, wild horses, I’m gonna ride them one day
,” he sang softly.

             
He finished, setting the guitar down pulling me back from that time and those despairing to be with him feelings.

             
“I still love to watch you play. I’m so jealous of your, or anyone’s, ability to play an instrument,” I said.

             
He stared into my eyes and I wondered if I looked lost, memories haven taken me back in time.

             
“Stand up,” he demanded.

             
“Shower?”

             
“Just stand up, Morgan.”

             
“Okay,” I shrugged, pushing myself from the bed.

             
I stood in front of him, and he leaned back on his elbows.

“Now take your clothes off.”

It was light in the room, and I suddenly felt shy. I think he could sense it and as he looked at me he took his shirt off and undid the button on his swim shorts. I could see the thin line of blonde hair that trailed from his belly button down into his shorts, and my heart started to beat faster.

             
“Take it off,” he whispered in a husky tone.

              I unbuttoned my shorts and peeled them down. He nodded at my shirt. I pulled the T-shirt I had on over my head and stood in my bikini. I’d been with him in this all day, and yet, now I felt naked.

             
“The top.”

             
His words sparked an electrical storm in my brain, stroking my ego, tickling the farthest corners of my mind. He watched as I untied the ties, taking it off, tossing it towards him. I took a deep breath and waited.

             
“Now the bottom.”

             
I spread my legs slightly and untied one of the strings on the side. The bathing suit dropped slightly and I played with the ties with my fingers. I watched his eyes widen, his expression communicating how much he wanted me. I could see his cock pushing against the fabric of his suit. I pulled the second tie letting the bottom fall to the floor. My breath caught, and I started to move toward him.

             
“Nope,” he said. “Turn around for me real slow.”

I did as he asked as my heart hammered in my chest. He watched in fierce concentration. When I
faced him again, he stood and came to me. He took me into his arms and kissed me, while he ran one hand down my back and over my ass. I moaned softly. He slipped his suit off and taking my hand led me to the bed. I buried my face in his neck, kissing him. He went slow, tantalizing my body, slowly bringing me to points where I was ready to beg. When he finally entered me, my body arched with need into his.

“Ah,” I sighed.

He kept the pace slow at first, like waves washing onto the beach and receding. I was relishing every movement, savoring the smell and feel of him. When we got to a place where our breathing mixed like music, I couldn’t stop myself from quickening the pace. I pulled him into me, taking us higher, until it escaped from our chests, the sound of us going over the rim. We lay on our backs afterwards on top of the covers, side-by-side.

“Why is it you can always get your way with me
?” I asked.

He was silent for so long
, I thought maybe he had dozed off. He rolled onto his side towards me.

             
“Can I?” he asked seriously.

             
“It seems. Pisses me off,” I said, frowning.

             
He gave me a sexy grin. One that said,
really was that you being pissed off just now?

             
“Why does it piss you off?”

“'Cause you can be so thoughtless and mean sometimes.”

              “I know I can be a jerk; it’s part of my charm.”

             
I pushed his chest hard, causing him to roll back. He laughed and rolled back, this time on top of me, pinning me to the bed.

             
“You know it is, and you like it,” he teased.

             
“No, I don’t.”

             
“Do.”

             
I stared into his eyes and wondered if what he said was true.
I guess I did, I put up with the bad Mathew because the good one was just too good.

             
“Mathew, what are you thinking, I mean about us? Do you think about it that way, as an
us
?”

             
Asking him to try and define
us
was always risky.

             
“What do I think?” he pondered.

I could see the wheels turning, hoping his answer was at minimum gentle.

“Morgan, you’re a great friend. One of my best friends. You’re a great lover. I think we both are happy when we’re together, well most of the time,” he added. “So don’t wreck it with overthinking it.”

             
I pushed him to the side and hugged him to me. What he said was true. Logically, I understood the dynamics of our living in different cities had sealed our fate.

             
“Will you stay?”

“Only if you play nice,” I answered.

Mathew
dropped me off at Gayle’s the next day.

             
“The good Mathew I take it?” Gayle said.

             
“Can you tell?” I flashed her a cheesy smile.

             
“When it comes to Mathew, you’re easy to figure out. You’re so strong in so many ways, but not where he’s involved.”

“Oh
, news flash,” I said.

             
“How does he do it? How does he keep you coming back? It’s got to be more than the sex,” she asked. “I don’t get it.”

             
I looked out into her backyard. The trees were mature and full, the grass bright green surrounded by raised beds where flowers bloomed. Bees were fluttering about them. The sun was hitting a yellow blossom just so, that it almost looked artificial, beautiful. I thought about her question and then smiled. 

“It’s funny because our physical attraction is undeniable. He can look at me and get me started. He knows it and likes it. There is never an issue when we are in that mode. It’s when the rest of the world comes in to play. Then I’ve got a fifty-fifty chance of who I get. Good Mathew or bad Mathew,” I said, putting up my hands like a scale. “There’s the constant performer, the selfish one I guess and then the real one. When it’s the two of us alone, I get the real one. Unfortunately, on the outside, they look the same, so he can confuse me. Sometimes when I think I have the good one, the bad one shows up.”

Gayle shifted uncomfortably in her chair. The plaster from her casts making a scraping sound as she did.

“Confuses the hell out of me. I know when it’s good, it’s good for you, but you put up with a lot of bullshit in between.”

             
“Not that much,” I defended.

             
He had such a persuasive way of making me forget the bad times. My memories always seemed foggy when it came to those.

             
“No? What are you to him exactly? Have you ever asked him, Morgan? Are you his girlfriend when you come to town? Or a temporary plaything?” she asked, pushing me.

             
I frowned at her.

             
“That’s mean, Gayle.”

             
“It’s not mean. It’s an honest question from someone who cares,” she said.

             
I looked back at the yellow flower and fixated on it.

“What do you want me to say
, Gayle. He uses me? Maybe. He doesn’t make me feel used, most of the time,” I qualified, my voice a level higher. “You’ve asked me if I love him. I’ve denied it, even to myself, up till yesterday. I realized as I watched him play that I do. So you’re right, I’ve always loved him. Happy? Do we talk about love? No. Have I ever told him that? No. Has he ever said anything about loving me? No. Would it change a thing if either of us did? I am a whopping seventeen. I still get on a plane next week to go home, and we go back to our different lives. This is what I get with Mathew, Gayle. Do I like it? No, but I’ve come to accept it.”

When I finished
I looked back at her, and she stared at me. She looked better. The cuts had healed on her arms. The color was back in her face. It would still be weeks before the casts came off, and then physical therapy would start. She still had a long road.

             
“Sorry,” I said, feeling like a child who’d had a tantrum.

             
Then she started to laugh. It was my turn to stare. She laughed really hard, and as I watched her, I couldn’t help but laugh too. I had no idea what we were laughing about, but it went on and on. When we both stopped, I waited as I was winded. My stomach hurt from laughing so hard and tears had run out of the corners of my eyes.

             
“Okay, clue me in on the joke,” I asked.

             
She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes.

             
“You finally admitted that you love him. That somehow explains a lot of your stupid behavior over the years,” she said.

“Keep it to yourself
,” I said.

Chapter
36

“Where you two off to today?” Gayle asked, as she watched me get dressed.

I’d thrown on a red and blue striped bikini and was covering it with jean shorts and a loose white tank top.

“He’s taking me to a beach party.”

             
“Sean going to be there?” she teased. “Sorry, I just love that story. I wish I could have been there. Would have loved to have seen Mathew’s face.”

             
She laughed and leaned back against the wall behind her bed.

“Hope so, in case I get ‘desperate for some kissing’,” I teased back.

             
“Don’t go there,” she cautioned.

             
“You trying to protect Mathew? How un-you,” I said astounded.

             
“He doesn’t need my protection. What time is he picking you up?”

             
“About ten thirty, he said.”

             
When he rang the doorbell, I gave Gayle a quick hug.

             
“Have fun, Morgan.”

             
I smiled at her and then disappeared down the hall towards the front door. The sun was bright as I stepped into the courtyard.

“She still won’t come say
hello
to me?” he asked from where he was seated on a stone bench.

I dug in my bag for my sunglasses.

              “Yeah, she’s going to struggle out on her crutches to say
hello
. It’s hard enough just getting her around the house.”

             
He jumped up and I followed him to the car. He leaned to kiss me once we were inside as he slid in an eight-track. Styx blared out of the speakers, and he reached to turn it down.

             
“She hasn’t seen anyone but me, and her family of course. She doesn’t want anyone to see her yet. It’s sad. I don’t know how long it will take her to get over this. I’m glad my parents let me come spend time with her.”

             
“Me too,” he said, patting my thigh.

             
We drove over the hill, Mathew singing along with the songs.

“
And you’re just fooling yourself if you don’t believe it
," he belted out with the band.

“Where is the party?”
I interrupted.

             
“
You’re killing yourself if you don’t believe it
,” he went on with the song, singing a few more lines before he answered me.

             
“Capitola. We’ll park at Bobby’s and walk down.”

Bobby’s grandparents
' place sat on the cliffs above Capitola beach. It was a flat roofed two-story beach cottage, with large windows in front that looked out to the ocean. The wood exterior had weathered to grey and the white paint was peeling on the trim around the windows. A massive pine tree grew to the side of it. I had been there several times with my parents and the group, parties, functions, a day at the beach. Bobby was sitting in one of the wooden rockers on the front porch when we pulled up. He was kicked back and enjoying the sun. I hadn’t seen him since I’d moved.

“Hey
,” I said, jumping out of the car as Bobby stood up.

             
Mathew gave Bobby the heads up hello as he went around and popped the trunk to get the cooler and our towels. I hurried across the dirt parking area to the small cement porch to hug him. He had on dark shorts and a worn T-shirt, a rolled up towel sat in the rocker next to him.

“You still hanging out with this bum?” he teased
as he hugged me back.

It was a good squeeze and I could feel the strength in his arms. He looked tan and healthy, and taller.

              “Can you believe it?” I smiled, looking back at Mathew.

             
He stood awkwardly with his arms full, holding all our stuff.

             
“Ready?” Mathew asked, shutting the trunk.

             
“Ready,” Bobby said, picking up his towel.

             
I went to Mathew and he handed the towels to me, and we headed across the street to the edge of the bluff. We followed the somewhat steep dirt path, which wound its way through ice plant, down to the beach. The path was dusty and the fine particles stuck to our feet and legs. As I talked to Bobby on the way down I could already feel the warmth radiating from the sand. I looked out at the ocean and then onto the beach and could pick out Jack and Bob in the people gathered.

The beach right below us was sort of a cove and the water didn’t crash onto it like it did further down.
Snippets of talk and laughter filtered up at us. Once on the sand Mathew put the ice chest down and pulled out a beer. He opened it, and handed it to me. He took out two more and put them in one hand and opened them, giving one to Bobby. Mathew looked down the beach as he took a sip.

             
“Hey, Matt,” Bob called catching his eye.

             
I noticed he was with his girlfriend.

             
“How’s it going?” Mathew called, moving towards them.

             
I put out my towel and sat down. Bobby did the same, then took off his T-shirt.

“That’s not the same Stanford T-
shirt from Rio del Mar days?” I asked noticing the lettering was almost worn off.

“Same one, love it, it’s just getting nice and soft.”

“I remember your mom buying that for you at one of the football games, it was big on you then. Didn’t we have a tailgate party in the parking lot with everyone that day?”

“Good memory,” he said grinning.

I wiggled out of my shorts and took off my shirt, adjusting my bikini.

“What have you been up to?”
I asked Bobby as I watched Mathew walk away.

His butt looked
good in his tight shorts. I watched him and then glanced around at the group. The girl ratio was not in my favor, too many. The last party crossed my mind. I sat with Bobby, catching up on things that had gone on since we’d seen each other. It was easy to be with him, not like before when I hadn’t exactly been welcomed to join him and Mathew. We talked as I observed Mathew work his way through various groups of people. He was talking, flirting, laughing, and having a good time; he was definitely in a party mood.

             
“So tell me about your friend. How’s she doing?” Bobby asked. “Mathew told me it was a terrible accident.”

             
I told him about the accident, about Gayle’s progress. He was very sensitive and concerned about her mental well-being. Said that many times the scars heal, but the memories linger.

             
“She still has a long road ahead of her, but she’s doing good.”

I saw Mathew looking back up the path
. I turned from Bobby slightly to see who it was. It was the brunette from the last party with two blondes. Mathew watched them walk down to the beach. He must have felt me watching him because at one point he broke his gaze and looked at me. He didn’t smile, nor did I.

“Hey
, girls,” I heard him say when they walked up to him.

             
“Hey, Matt,” the kissing one from the party said very coyly.

             
They were far enough away that I couldn’t hear them very well. She seemed to be introducing the other girls. I could feel the hairs on my arms tingle with dread.

“Who’s that?”
Bobby asked following my gaze.

I swallowed hard.

“That would be Anna.”

             
When I’d pushed Mathew after the last party, he’d admitted to knowing her and told me her name. I hadn’t pushed on what she was to him. I didn’t want to know.

             
“That Mathew’s new girlfriend?” Bobby asked.

             
So, Mathew’s mentioned nothing to you of us? Us, did that even exist?
I watched them flirt. She laughed at something he said, grabbing his arm, as Mathew threw his head back. I could feel my jaw tighten.

             
“Not that I’m aware of,” I answered stiffly.

             
Anna’s body language was pretty clear, throwing out a hip, leaning forward towards him, her touch as he spoke. The scream was on the verge in my head. Bobby reached for my chin and turned my face to look at him. I blinked slowly. When he looked into my eyes, I could see it register with him.

“Do you want to take a walk down the beach?”

              “I think that’s a great idea,” I said, standing.

             
“Grab a couple,” he said, pointing to the ice chest.

             
I opened it and grabbed two cans. I turned my back to Mathew and the group and headed off with Bobby. I could feel the lump in my throat. We walked a long ways before he spoke.

“He doesn’t mean to hurt you
,” he said.

             
“Who says I’m hurt?”

“
Okay, frustrated, mad, whatever,” he said. “Morgan, I know you well enough to read you a little. Mathew is Mathew.”

The lump had spread into my chest and it felt like a weight was pushing down on me
.

             
“Do you know how many times I have said that to myself?” I said, irritated.

             
Bobby didn’t have to answer that. I knew he could imagine.

             
“He invited me to this beach party, so I thought it was to be with him. Wrong again it looks like. Every time I think he won’t work the chick angle right in front of me, he does.”

             
A wave rolled in swirling up my leg, splitting and falling back.

“He’s a party guy
. He’s friendly, outgoing. It doesn’t mean he’s working the chick angle,” Bobby tried to defend him.

The breeze was blowing my hair into my face and I reached to pull it back, wrapping it around itself, and tucking it into a makeshift bun.

“I caught him kissing her at the last party he took me to. You know what he said when I called him on it, 'I don’t even know her'. What kind of lame ass answer is that?”

Bobby laughed
and I recalled the time we’d laughed together about Mathew’s lame pick-up lines on the Santa Cruz Boardwalk.

“Sorry
, I don’t mean to laugh, but you sounded just like him.”

“Ok
ay, and here’s the lamest part. He thinks if he doesn’t know her, it makes it all right.”

             
“Let’s sit,” he said, stopping by the water.

             
We sat down, facing the ocean, and I handed him one of the beers. His olive skin was tan I noticed. I still found him handsome and I wondered why I hadn’t fallen for a normal boy like him.

             
“We have a weird relationship,” I said.

             
We watched the waves crash on the sand, the foam roll up the beach, and then retreat. There were three young girls playing in the waves, chasing them in and out, laughing with delight. I put my chin on my knees.

             
“What do you know about us, Bobby?”

             
“I’m not sure what I know.”

             
“Bullshit,” I said.

             
Bobby had his hands draped lazily around his knees and he pulled back slightly.

             
“Some. Mathew isn’t a big talker. I know the two of you have been together.”

“Together?” I questioned
. “Do you know we’ve been lovers?”

              “Yeah, I figured that from things he's said.”

             
I could tell he didn’t want to say too much, always protecting Mathew.

“Lovers for years
,” I added, perturbed.

             
Bobby didn’t say anything. We sat watching the ocean.

             
“I feel like that,” I said, pointing to the girls.

             
Bobby watched the girls for a few minutes.

             
“Like what?” he asked, confused.

             
“Up and back. One minute I’m in, the next I’m out. Just like the ocean, he’s unpredictable. It fucking drives me crazy. I don’t even live here, Bobby. How hard can it be to be nice for a short time? If he simply wants to be friends, why does he keep inviting me, taking me to his bed, and then playing right in front of me like this?”

He didn’t answer me, he didn’t know how
to. I told him about Anna and Sean at the last party, disclosing my retaliatory behavior. The emotions were churning in me, a mixture of hurt, fury, and frustration with myself. I clasped and un-clasped my hands as I spoke. I told him how pissed Mathew was about Sean, never blaming himself for any of it. He listened. We finished our beer.