Read Online Boy in a Band (A Morgan Mallory story) by Lisa Loomis - Free Book Online Page A

wrap my arms around him, but I figured he would find it weird.
                  “You ready?” he whispered.
    “Following you ,” I replied.
    It surprised me when he took my hand , leading me along the fence behind the bushes, pausing several times to listen. I gripped his hand tight in mine, not wanting him to let go as we crept to the side yard and into the garage.
                  “You can let go of my hand now,” he said quietly, looking at me.
    “Oh ,” I said, feeling silly.
                  I let his hand drop and realized that I had been holding on too tight.
                  “Nothing like a good vise grip,” he whispered, shaking his hand.
                  He reached for the back door knob, then turned to me and put his fingers to his lips. I followed him silently into the house and up the stairs into his room. I could hear the adults downstairs talking and laughing, my dad no doubt telling dirty jokes. He constantly seemed to pick up new ones on the road.
                  “I wonder how long they'll look for us?” he chuckled.
                  “It’s kind of mean.”
                  “I know,” he said, closing his door softly. “Can’t turn on the lights yet, they’ll see it.”
    I didn’t respond . The glow from the streetlight outside his window spilled a soft yellow light into the room. The room smelled like him. I wasn’t sure if it was the soap he used or if he used cologne, but it smelled nice, almost lemon, vanilla, but not. I breathed it in. He hastily swept clothes that were on his bed off to the floor and then straightened the unmade covers on the bed. He flopped down on it and chuckled again while I stood looking at him in the soft light.
    “Mo rgan, Mathew, where are you?”
                  We could hear the three of them calling from outside.
                  “Come out now,” Sara shouted.
                  Mathew smiled at me.
                  “Sit down,” he said, patting the spot next to him on the bed.
    I walked over and sat down where he had indicated , feeling a bit uncertain, but excited to be near him. We sat in silence in the dark and listened to them hunt for us. I could tell Sara was pissed off and knew Mathew was hiding from them.
                  “Let’s tell them,” I said.
    “No way ,” Mathew said as he moved behind me. “Let 'em hunt.”
                  “Morgan,” I heard Pat yell, closer to the house this time.
                  I felt him put his hand gently on my head, then he slid his fingers into my hair. Shocked, I straightened my back, sitting completely upright even as I shivered, feeling my heart beat in my throat, waves of hot flushing in and out.
    “Your hair is so cool, I like it ,” he said again, running his fingers through it slowly.
    Between my legs tingled as he slid his hand down to my shoulder and down my arm, coming to rest on my hip. I felt tight all over. I could hardly breath with want as I waited for him to move it, but he didn’t. The silence, the darkness, his touch; I didn’t dare break the moment. I heard the front door open and then voices. They had given up and come inside, they would find us, and the moment would vanish.
    “Where are Mathew and Morgan?” I heard Ann ask.
                  “Hiding from us,” Sara answered quickly.
    We could hear them running up the stairs. Muttering under his breath, Mathew removed his hand and quickly rolled off the bed, switching on the light. He moved to grab his guitar, pulling out the desk chair at the same time. He plopped himself down, ready to play. He did it all so seamlessly and easy while all I could do was sit there, angry and frustrated as we waited for the fury. When the door flew open and the three of them stood there, arms crossed across their chests, Mathew started plucking on his