Boy in a Band (A Morgan Mallory story)

by Lisa Loomis

  “Not sure I buy that one,” she said sarcastically.

  “I don’t know, the distance did funny things, but mostly it made me forget the bad parts, maybe made him more in my head than he ever was. I truly care about him, and, yes, he pulls at my heart,” I said.

  She gave me the Mathew look, like whatever I said regarding him had a hint of crazy to it.

  “Don’t get wrapped up in sorting out his mess. And watch your heart, don’t let him break it,” she cautioned.

  “I’m not sure that’s possible. It’s like he’s broken it so many times and put it back together, it’s immune. In his defense, as much as he has toyed with my emotions over the years, he never promised a thing. I kept coming back because I wanted to.”

  “Go shower,” she said rolling her eyes. “Get pretty for him. I’m sure under the circumstances he’ll appreciate it.”

  The hot water felt good on my skin, Gayle’s soap smelled of lavender. I washed my hair and then blew it dry, straighter. I put on my makeup, all the while thinking of him. I put on a tight pair of jeans and a light blue button down blouse, one that accented my eyes. After I dressed, I went to find Gayle.

  “You look nice,” she said.

  “Oh my god, Gayle, I realized in the shower that I’m on the other side this time. This time I’m supporting the hurter; I’m supporting the drunk driver. The one I wanted to kill when it was you.”

  She stared at me her eyes reassuring.

  “I know. The irony of life. I wondered if you would catch it.”

  “Do you hate him?”

  “No, girl, I don’t. It has made me realize there are always two sides. In the end, everyone is hurt,” she said sadly.

  I left Gayle’s apartment with more than enough time to get downtown. I listened to the radio, listened to the music, the words, the stories. The song’s ability to transport me back was amazing. Making me remember events, smells, and sounds. I parked the rental car under the shade of a tree, checked my makeup quickly and then walked into the facility. The same woman was at the desk.

  “The good Irish girl here to see who again?” she asked smiling.

  I gave her Mathew's and my name again.

  “Go ahead. You know how to get there,” she said, peering over her glasses.

  “Thanks.”

  I followed the hall to the cafeteria. Mathew was already at the table. He was slouched leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He looked up anxiously when I entered, smiling when he saw it was me. This time there were several couples and families, making the room a little louder.

  “How are you?” I asked, moving towards him.

  He stood up with his arms open.

  “Better now,” he said before he kissed me.

  It was the kiss, not a make out session, but the kiss that made my knees weak and my heart race. When he pulled away and looked into my eyes, I felt like I could liquefy into a pool like butter, right there on the floor. I moved to the tables bench seat and sat down. He sat down next to me and put his hand on my leg.

  “How is Gayle?” he asked.

  I wondered if he too had thought about the shoe being on the other foot.

  “She’s fine. She fixed me dinner, I fixed me wine, we talked, or really I talked, she listened. Yesterday made me tired. Then this morning when I showered, I thought about her accident. Mathew, I felt so guilty. She was the victim all those years ago. She was exactly like the lady you hit,” I said.

  “I wondered if that would bother you, wondered if it would make you feel differently towards me.”

  He waited for my response, searching my eyes. His hand moved down my leg towards my knee slowly.

  “Gayle, amazingly, pointed something out to me. She said there are two sides to every story. It doesn’t make it right, what happened, but there are still two people trying to make sense of it in this world.”

  He looked me over, drinking me in, my eyes, my face, my hair, my outfit. He reached down to touch my foot, which was buckled into a thin leather sandal, as he leaned over to my neck and breathed me in.

  “I’m not sure if I’ve been here too long, or if you get better looking every time I see you,” he said straightening up and taking my hands.

  “Either way, I’ll take it as a compliment,” I said smiling.

  “So you and Gayle have the ability to forgive bad judgment?” he asked.

  I was surprised his look, and the nearness of him could still cause the butterflies to swarm.

  “I can’t speak for Gayle, but as far as I’m concerned, I have no room to judge. Bad shit happens unfortunately, it’s where it takes you after that matters.”

  I stayed until five. We talked about family and what everyone was doing. He brought me current on the old group, the band. He told me what Bobby had been up to; he’d come to visit a couple of times. Bobby had gone into counseling feeling the need to help people. I remembered the time we sat on the beach watching the waves; he’d been a good listener then. Mathew never was not touching or kissing me; again I found it strangely easy to focus on it only being the two of us, even as people moved around us.

  “Plans have changed for tomorrow. I want you to meet me around the corner from the bus stop, down the street,” he said quietly.

  I looked at him like he was high.

  “What are you doing?”

  “There’s a place we can go on the way to my office where we can spend an hour alone. I have a guy at work that will cover for me. No one will know I didn’t get there on time.”

  I pulled my hand from his and leaned towards him.

  “Mathew, you’re already in enough trouble. It’s not worth it,” I said, worried.

  His eyes pleaded with me.

  “It is to me. We won’t get caught. I’ve worked it out. Now, shhh, please do what I say. Meet me, tomorrow at the bus stop at nine thirty,” he said.

  “You scare me.”

  He gave me his lazy sexy grin.

  “Just wait.”

  The way he said, “just wait”, made me press my legs together tightly. I could feel the wetness in my panties.

  Gayle and I met Sara at the Chart House in Los Gatos that night for dinner. It was a charming old Victorian house that had been converted into a restaurant. We sat at a table close to the front window where we could look out the lacy curtains onto the street.

  “Morgan thanks for coming. I talked to him last night,” Sara said excitedly. “He sounded up and hopeful. I have been so worried about him.”

  “He definitely needed a lift, I’m glad you called, Sara. I couldn’t not come, especially when you said he needed me. I didn’t know what to expect, but it’s gone well I think,” I said.

  Gayle shot me a look. She’d listened to me babble about Mathew and how much I was enjoying be back in his company. I was a little too enthusiastic for her.

  I found the bus stop the next day and waited around the corner as he had instructed. I saw the bus come and go. He opened the car door and got in. He was dressed up, lawyer like, a white shirt and tie, pinstriped pants and black dress shoes.

  “See, easy,” he said and slouched down in the seat. “Straight down this street on the left.”

  He explained that it was a place that rented private rooms with hot tubs.

  “You’re taking me to a place that rents a room with a hot tub?” I asked.

  “It’s the best I could come up with,” Mathew grinned.

  “Is there a bed?” I asked.

  “Not really, more like a padded bench,” he said.

  I laughed. He obviously had been there before, if not just to scout it out. I’d never heard of such a place and was quite anxious about what it would be like, I imagined seedy.

  “A bench? Sounds romantic. Never a dull moment with you.”

  There was a small front desk, really like a table, with a hall that ran long ways to the left of it. A thin man with glasses and very thin hair sat on a high stool, reading a book. He looked up at us, disinterested.

&nbs
p; “We need a hot tub,” Mathew said.

  The man set down his book and opened a black box that contained keys. I had to work to suppress my laughter. I wondered what he thought about the good-looking guy in business attire with the girl dressed in casual summer fare. Maybe it was a common site in these parts; a quick affair, in the afternoon.

  “How long you want it?” the clerk asked.

  “An hour?” Mathew answered.

  “Two-hour minimum,” he said, flopping two towels and a key on the counter.

  “That’s fine.”

  Mathew glanced at me and smiled then pulled out his wallet and paid.

  “Down the hall on the left,” the clerk said, going back to his book.

  When we got to door number seven, Mathew used the key to open it. The lights inside were dim. The room consisted of an open shower, a round wooden hot tub, and a vinyl-covered bench slightly wider than a twin bed. It was sparse and a bit clinical.

  “Who comes here?” I asked.

  “I think it’s mostly gay men.”

  “How do you know about a place like this?”

  “Well certainly not because I’m gay,” he said, taking me in his arms. “I pass it daily on the bus. I asked.”

  “Sure, it’s probably a local hang-out for you,” I teased.

  He leaned in and kissed me.

  “Nope, never been here before. Just saw the signs, hot tub rental by the hour. As much as I’d love to take you to dinner and maybe the Hyatt, under the circumstances I figured this might just do.”

  He slipped of his shoes and socks, and started taking off his tie, then his dress shirt and pants, hanging them carefully on the hooks on the wall. I sat down on the bench and watched. It all seemed very humorous to me, and when he stood naked, I started to laugh.

  “Morgan, stop finding this so damn funny. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  He climbed into the hot tub as I stood up.

  “I know. I can’t help it,” I said, taking off my clothes. “I feel like we’re on some stake out rather than some romantic, sexy adventure. Oh, I must have forgotten who I’m with.”

  He gave me a cheesy grin as I took off my clothes. The more I thought about who came to these types of places, the less I wanted to get in the hot tub, even if he was in it. I shivered.

  “I don’t want to get in there; the ick factor is too high for me. Come over here,” I said, covering the bench with our towels. “Sure hope the towels are clean.”

  “Not a particularly good time for you to get squeamish,” he said, getting back out of the tub.

  He was being patiently frustrated with me. I lay down on the bench on my side as he climbed out.

  “Rinse off in the shower real quick,” I ordered. “I’m afraid of what’s in that water.”

  “For fuck sake,” he said.

  “Something like that, do it,” I laughed.

  He came to me, wet from the shower and lay down next to me on the towels.

  “Does this work for you, princess?” he teased.

  “Yeah,” I said, pulling him to me.

  When skin touched skin, the years melted away. I was stunned at how we went right back to us. How he could take me to places no one had. How he could take me back, make me completely lose myself to him. I thought about something he said so long ago. I thought about Gayle’s question of love.

  “Love me,” I said simply.

  He made love to me like a man possessed, not fast and rough, but lustful and passionate. Taking my body soaring, making my skin tingle with desire. I figured he had gone without for a long time. It was easy for me to go with him, fit right with his rhythm. I was as hungry for him as he was for me. Just as the gasp escaped from his chest that I’d taken him over the edge, my body arched into his exploding in orgasm.

  He rolled to the side and held me to him our chest rising and falling. He tenderly kissed my forehead, and eyelids, and nose and when our breathing returned to normal he led me to the shower.

  “My god, I’ve missed you. I miss you right now, because I know you’re going home,” he said, the hunger still evident in his voice.

  He rubbed my body with the soap, slowly, very slowly, feeling my breasts, my back, my ass. His hands stroking my skin. Up my thighs just close enough to make me suck in my breath, but not touching. It was like a dance expertly performed. I could feel the longing pool in my stomach and race down between my legs. The warm water ran down between the two of us.

  “Mathew,” I whispered, taking his cock in my hand.

  I was pleasantly surprised to find he was already so hard again and I pressed my body into his and kissed him fervently. He took my tongue in his mouth and caressed it with his. I ran my hands around his shoulders, his neck, down his back, over his ass, feeling his skin and the muscles beneath it. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I pulled him back towards the bench.

  “I wish we had more time,” I whined as we dressed.

  “We will,” he said, as he tied his tie.

  My hair was partially wet as was his from rinsing off again in the shower. I looked in the small mirror on the wall, my neck and cheeks were pink and I felt warm.

  “Do I have that well-laid look?” I teased turning to him.

  He glanced at me and grinned and then looked in the mirror and adjusted his tie.

  “I bet they're used to that look around here,” he said.

  Apparently happy with his tie he took me in his arms kissing me, his hunger still not appeased.

  I dropped him off behind his office. It had to be quick, in hopes no one saw us. I went to the farthest part of his parking lot. He looked into my eyes and took my hand.

  “Morgan, thanks,” he said. “Thanks for coming. Thanks for saying yes. Thanks for everything.”

  “You should thank Sara. She’s the one who called,” I said, pushing on his chest. “Get, you need to go.”

  “I’ll call you next week, I promise,” he said hastily getting out of the car.

  I believed him. I watched him walk through the parking lot and through the back door of the building. I leaned my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes. The smell of him still lingered in the car, the lemon, vanilla, combined with the soap from the shower. I pictured him playing his guitar on the beach, the firelight dancing off his face. I wanted to see that again.

  Chapter 46

  He called Wednesday, and I missed his call. He told my mom he would call Thursday at six. He had a limited time span to make calls out, and I couldn’t call in. We laughed about our escapade, but he was serious about how much it meant to him. No one had discovered that he was missing, and his outlook had improved. We kept in close contact over the next three months.

  I was so busy with school and work; the time went really fast. Not so much for him. It was spring when he was released, and he was determined to get his life on track. He started law school and was working full-time. He went to meet and apologize to the woman he hit and was still paying off his restitution.

  “Come for a weekend. I’ll send you a ticket,” he said.

  I flew in on a Friday after school, and Mathew was waiting at the gate. He was wearing jeans and a turquoise shirt with white buttons, which set off his eyes and blonde hair. He smiled when he spotted me and I felt my heart flutter.

  “You look fantastic,” I said as I reached him, giving him the once-over.

  “Thanks. Wasn’t much to do in there but use the gym or watch TV.”

  “Gym I take it. It shows.”

  He was pleased that I noticed. He gave me a quick kiss and took my hand as we headed in the direction of baggage. When we got in his car, he leaned over and kissed me more completely. By the time we were through my heart was racing. I reached up and cupped the side of his face.

  “You’re the best kisser,” I said.

  He gave me his lazy sexy grin.

  “I got us a room at the Hyatt for the weekend.”

  “You did?” I asked surprised. “No Jack’s?”

  �
��I wanted nicer. I wanted to have you all to myself,” he said.

  His words charmed me and I envisioned the last time we’d stayed at the Hyatt. Could picture the room with its reds and golds, the comfortable bed, with the cottony linens.

  “All righty then, the Hyatt. Remember after Melanie’s wedding?”

  He’d started the car and was backing out of the parking space, but stopped and glanced at me quickly.

  “I remember,” he said, smiling. “Every bit of it, especially knowing from the minute I held you in my arms on the dance floor, that you had nothing on under your pretty dress. That kid, I could not get off my mind.”

  He reached out and pinched my chin affectionately.

  “I convinced myself that nothing would happen between us. Over and over I told myself, no way. I thought Max being in my life, my feelings for you would be gone. When you asked me to come with you, I knew I shouldn’t. I knew if I did, I would cross the line. I’ve never been able to trust myself around you.”

  “What changed your mind?” he asked, resuming backing out.

  “The minute I saw you,” I said. “When you looked at me from across the room, I was like holy shit. Every time you caught my eye I had to remember to breathe.”

  He chuckled. It was a beautiful sunny day, although the air was a little crisp. I knew by nightfall it would be really cool and I imagined us wrapped up around each other keeping warm.

  “I didn’t think you would leave with me, but I was willing to risk asking. Then when you said yes, I wasn’t sure where to go that I wouldn’t blow my chance,” he said.

  “Your chance?” I asked, adjusting myself sideways in my seat, so I could look at him. “You did plan on getting me into bed.”

  “I told you that night I didn’t plan it. I hadn’t seen you in years. I knew about Max. How could I have possibly planned?”

  “Okay, fair enough,” I chuckled.

  “Didn’t mean I wasn’t hoping,” he teased. “I got the same room.”