by Lisa Loomis
Chapter 29
“So what about Ben?” he asked guardedly.
I hadn’t thought about Ben since Mathew started kissing me. “I don’t want to talk about Ben.”
I had never had feelings with Ben like I did with Mathew, never.
“We need to.”
His choice of words was curious. What we?
“Mathew, what do you want me to say?” I asked.
“You don’t love him, Morgan.”
It was more of a statement than a request. I ran my hand down his chest.
“The expert on love here,” I whispered. “Is that what you want me to say, that I don’t love him. Does it really make a difference?”
He ignored my question. We’d just had sex with reckless abandon and I wondered why it mattered what I felt about Ben.
“I’m pretty sure he’s been seeing someone else while you’ve been gone. Rumor has it anyway. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Here was a boy who had clearly hurt me over the years, worrying about me getting hurt. In one respect it was sweet and in another so out of character. I thought about Ben seeing someone else. He was a ladies’ man for sure. He was possessive on the one hand, but had no trouble blatantly looking on the other.
“Maybe that’s the distance I feel. We’re supposed to go to the beach tomorrow,” I said, not knowing how I felt about that now.
Mathew let the statement hang. If he just wanted me to confirm I didn’t love Ben, what did that do? Was I supposed to throw Ben to the curb over a Mathew moment?
“What a mess,” I said.
It was hard to be rationale in Mathew’s arms after how he’d just made me feel, was still making me feel.
“Tell Ben you’ve made other plans.”
“What other plans?”
“You-and-me plans,” Mathew stated like there was no question.
I chuckled as I snuggled into him.
“He’s always been so fond of you. That should go down well, ‘I can’t go today, Ben, because Mathew made plans for us.’ What kind of you-and-me plans?”
“The beach.”
“Mathew, you realize what you‘re asking me to do, right?”
He lifted my chin and kissed me softly.
“Lose Ben,” he said.
I fell asleep in his arms. When I woke, he was gone. I lay in bed thinking about what he said—he’d asked me to lose Ben. It was a simple request, but I wasn’t sure how to handle it, or if I wanted to handle it. It could have been a Mathew moment. I’d dreamed of Mathew and Ben, and they were arguing. Ben was calling Mathew a liar. Saying he told me there was someone else for his own benefit. I was unsure of my feelings and myself. What did I want? I wasn’t sure if Mathew was serious. I didn’t understand his request.
Ben was supposed to pick me up at noon. I looked at the bedside clock, eight fifty-three. I rummaged through my suitcase for clothes and headed to the shower. Mathew must have been waiting for me to wake because he met me in the hall. I was sleep-deprived from our late evening and feeling it. I smiled shyly.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said, smiling back.
“You’re joking right?” I asked.
Sara came out of her room and saw us.
“Morning,” I said to her.
I felt awkward, standing in the hall in my nightgown.
“I was headed to the shower,” I said hurriedly.
She looked from me to Mathew and smiled.
“Morning,” she said and headed toward the kitchen.
I pointed at Sara’s back, at Mathew, and then me.
“She know anything?”
“I assume some. She’s never asked me, but she’s pretty tuned in.”
“Okay, then,” I said, clutching my clothes in front of me.
I turned toward the bathroom, not sure what else to say. I was closing the door when he pushed it back open a crack.
“When you’re finished, call Ben. I plan on heading to Santa Cruz about eleven.”
He planned on taking me to the beach after all. Now I was forced to make some sort of decision. One look in the mirror told me Mathew had lied. My hair was disheveled, and I had mascara under my puffy eyes, argh. I showered, letting the hot water run over my body, trying to decide what to do. I dried my hair and put on my makeup and still didn’t know what to do. I looked in the mirror, not too bad for a girl who was up half the night. When I opened the door, Mathew was there.
“We’re going to the beach, you and me, go call Ben,” he said firmly.
I was surprised how happy I felt. What was I going to say? I slept with Mathew last night, had the most incredible orgasms, and I’m going to the beach with him instead of with you. I went to the laundry room to use the phone that was there so I'd have some privacy. Ben’s mom answered the phone.
“Hi, it’s Morgan. Is Ben there?” I asked.
Ben’s mother had always made me feel like I was stealing her son, not hostile exactly, but uncomfortable.
“Yes, hang on, I’ll get him,” she said, resting the phone on the counter.
I could hear her calling him, pictured his room down the narrow hall. The receiver scraped across the counter as he picked it up.
“Hey, babe,” he said.
His voice tugged at my already raw emotions. Get it over with, Morgan.
“Ben, my plans have changed for today.”
I swallowed hard. Was I really doing the right thing?
“I heard rumors last night that you've been seeing someone else,” I blurted out.
There was silence at the other end. I guessed Mathew knew it was more than a rumor.
“Who did you hear it from? Mathew?”
His tone was caustic.
“It doesn’t matter. Are you seeing someone else?”
“Morgan, it’s nothing really, a close friendship,” he said. “You of all people certainly know that someone of the opposite sex can be a good friend.”
His tone was sarcastic. He tried to play it down, smooth things over. It was a girl he’d met in one of his classes, they’d talked, had lunch a couple of times. I could hear it in his voice, he was right; I knew too much about good friends. His new friendship was no doubt the detachment I felt. When I hung up, we both knew it was over, although we hadn’t officially said it. I didn’t feel sad, although I wondered if that would come later. The excitement of being with Mathew was probably overshadowing the sadness for now.
“You okay?” Mathew asked, walking into the room.
He had been listening. I was sure of it. I nodded my head yes.
“Good, let’s get ready to go,” he said.
On the drive over the hill, he talked about the band and what big strides they were making. They were scheduled to play at the fairgrounds this summer. He told me about his being at odds with his dad about his music. How he resented some of the pressure his dad put on him. He asked me about San Diego.
“So far I hate it,” I answered.
“It seems like a cool city.”
“It is, and pretty, but I would rather be here, with friends.”
“Haven’t made any friends yet?” he asked.
“No, being the new girl—unlike your experience—is not easy. The girls don’t like me.”
“'Cause you’re pretty,” he said with a grin.
I smiled. This was all so different, a different Mathew than I was used to. A Mathew I had only seen glimpses of.
“We’ll stop at Togo’s in Santa Cruz to grab some lunch for later. I’ve got beer in the trunk,” Mathew said.
“What’s Togo’s?” I asked.
“They have killer subs, kind of a new place I’ve discovered,” he said.
We drove over the hill, he sang with the radio, and seemed genuinely happy. When he stopped the car in front of Togo’s, he leaned over and kissed me.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said.
“Me too.”
I thought I should feel guilty about Ben, but I didn’t. The butterflies in my stomach
were too excited about being with Mathew.
“What do you like?” he asked, looking up at the sandwich board.
“You order for me. You know what’s good.”
I tried to give him money, but he wouldn’t take it. He obviously knew the spot we were going to. He drove into a neighborhood and parked the car. He took the towels and my beach bag out of the trunk.
“You carry these,” he said, handing them to me.
He grabbed the cooler and the bag from Togo’s. I followed him down a dirt path through the trees down onto the beach. It was a really pretty spot and somewhat secluded.
“Guess you’ve been here before,” I said, knowing I couldn’t find it again without him.
We spread out towels and helped each other get tanning lotion on, the smell reminding me of beach times in the past, his touch making my heart race. I kissed him lightly.
“Ready for lunch?” he asked, digging into the Togo’s bag and handing me a sandwich. “Beer?”
“Of course. You still accosting people in liquor store parking lots?” I asked, remembering the Mammoth trip.
“When needed,” he chuckled. “Have to get the goods one way or another.”
“I remember that night so clearly. I wanted to be with you so bad, but I was pissed at you and Bobby for always taking off together. When you two were together, I pretty much wrote you off.”
He cocked his head and looked at me.
“You did?” he asked, his mouth full.
“After Bobby left us alone that night, I thought maybe you would do something, and when you didn’t, I decided to go for it.”
The lazy sexy grin spread across his face making my knees feel weak. The thoughts of last night suddenly filling my head.
“You started with the finger thing,” he said, with a twinkle in his eyes.
“If my parents hadn’t come home, would you have gone all the way?”
I don’t know why, but it was important he validate some of my past feelings, like I wasn’t crazy.
“Maybe. I wanted to. You had me pretty horny,” he said.
“Like last night?”
“Hmm, last night doesn’t hold a candle to it.”
We ate our lunch, catching up on what had gone on since I moved. I told him more about San Diego. How lonely I felt there.
“Give it more time,” he suggested. “Let’s cool off, hottie.”
He reached for my hand, and we walked down to the ocean, holding hands. This was a Mathew I had only fantasized about. The water felt cold and I tried to go in slowly, but the playful Mathew wouldn’t have it, and he pulled me in, protesting. Once we were in, it didn’t feel so bad, and we swam out to where the waves weren’t breaking on us and floated on the surf. He held me to him as we floated.
“Not that cold once you’re in,” he said.
Up against him, no it didn’t feel so cold.
“Okay, there is one good thing—the ocean's warmer in San Diego.”
“Baby steps,” he said.
“Ah,” I shrieked as he untied my top.
“I’m copping a feel,” he said, playing with my erect nipples.
“Obviously,” I laughed. “Now that you got a feel, can we get out?” I asked.
“I’m not finished,” he teased, sticking his hand down my bathing suit bottom.
We lay flat on our backs in the sun holding hands. It felt lazy and warm. He would reach over and run his fingers down my side or my stomach, which in turn would make me want to kiss him. I would lean over and kiss his lips, his neck, his chest. And now and again he would pull my face to his and give me that kiss.
“Mathew?” I asked as I traced my fingers down the golden hair below his belly button to the band of his swimsuit.
“Hmm?”
He grabbed my hand and placed it on his cock rubbing through his suit. I felt the swelling between my legs and the blood race to my heart. We didn’t seem to be able to keep our hands off each other. He slowly rolled over on top of me, grinding his pelvis into mine.
“People can see,” I said self-consciously.
“So what? If they're lucky, they’ll get to see the suits come off,” he said, looking mischievous.
“Uh-uh,” I said, scanning the beach.
No one was close by, but there were still people in site. I pulled myself from underneath him to one side, resting on my elbow so I could look at him. This person that could make me act crazy.
“What’s going to happen now?”
“Happen right now?” he asked with a grin.
“You know what I mean?”
I hated that I wanted answers, couldn’t just go with the moment.
“Well, I’d say for the rest of your stay, more of this. Morgan, let’s not plan. Let’s agree to let it happen,” he said.
I was fearful that this was a fleeting moment and, come tomorrow, everything would change back to his normal MO.
“I’ll agree to let it happen, if you promise not to hurt me.”
The move to San Diego had sealed the fate of us being together for any length of time, and we both knew that. It wasn’t like we were adults and had a choice where we lived.
“I promise I won’t hurt you,” he said as he put his hand to his heart.
“I’m going to hold you to that. You do, and I’ll call Ben and ask him to kick your ass. He would no doubt honor that request.”
I chuckled and he smiled at me.
“He never liked me.”
“Maybe he had a feeling about our friendship. I know he was jealous of our time together.”
I untied my bikini top and let it fall. I pressed myself into his chest, my breasts against his skin, my softness against his roughness. I ran my tongue up his neck to his ear and traced the outside and then stuck my tongue gently in it.
“You’re gonna get me hard,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around me.
“That’s okay with me. I want you to teach me everything that makes you happy,” I said.
“You made me happy when you let me into your bed last night. You made me happy when you agreed to lose Ben.”
I rose up slightly and looked into his face.
“When you asked me if I loved him, I realized it wasn’t right, but I wasn’t sure why you cared. Your motives almost always confuse me. With Ben, I guess, I was in love with the idea of love. We only were together those few short months before I moved. I should have guessed once I was gone, he would be off to someone new.”
I pushed my pelvis into his, communicating how much I wanted him, even now. He kissed me and once again we had a make out session that was unbelievable.
“I’ll be coming for you tonight, kid,” he whispered in a husky tone.
“I’m good with that,” I said, knowing I was in new erotic territory. “So good with that. Make sure we don’t get caught. Your mom would kill us.”
I only had three nights left in town. We kept our relationship hidden at the house. For the next three days, Mathew and I would go to the beach so we could be alone together. He took me to the Boardwalk, and we rode the Big Dipper. He even took me underneath the boardwalk and kissed me.
“You wanna do it here?” he teased, sliding his hand up my shirt.
“No. I still think that’s gross.”
“Teasing,” he said.
“I know,” I said, not so sure he was.
He wasn’t afraid to show his affection for me in public. He held my hand and put his arm around me. My heart ached when I thought about going home. Gayle came over to Mathew’s house a few times to visit. I was happy to see that neither one of them made it feel awkward. She was miffed at me for breaking it off with Ben and spending all my days with Mathew. She was sure that Mathew would use me and hurt me. I did feel used, in the best way I’d ever been used, and I swore to myself I wouldn’t be hurt.
“Gayle, get over it,” I said when we were alone by the pool. “This has been the best thing for me. He’s made me happy. It, unfortunately, will end; we both understand that. We
’ll still be friends when I go home.”
“So you’re still the friend, even now?”
“Okay, friends plus,” I said, using Mathew’s term. “Why do we have to name it? What’s our choice, Gayle? We’re sixteen and still in high school. We live with our parents. We now live in different cities, far, far away. Now friend is about the only option unless I want him to start lying to me like Ben did.”
“Don’t be so fucking rational for once,” she said frowning.
“He’s the best lover, ever,” I whispered.
“No details, please.”
“Shut up. You already know a lot of the details, you bitch.”
She smiled.
“Let’s not go there. I’m glad to see you happy, Morgan. It’s scary how happy he can make you sometimes.”
On our last night together, Mathew and I made love and talked till morning. It had only gotten better between us; time after time he was able to make me feel things I couldn’t imagine. He was sorry to have me go. He would miss me. I believed him. He drove me to the airport on Sunday. We had been lovers for four days, and he’d rocked my world. I didn’t want to go. Mathew joked around and played loud music, singing along, all the way to the airport. He tried to keep it light so I couldn’t be sad. He put his arm around me and walked me into the terminal. We sat at the gate, holding hands.
“Mathew?” I asked, searching his face.
He leaned over and kissed me.
“Morgan, we agreed at the beach to let what would happen, happen,” he said.
“No, you agreed really,” I said, looking away.
“Don’t cry,” he said, turning my face back toward his.
“I won’t. I know you hate it,” I said, forcing a smile, fighting to keep the tears back. “I scarred you for life, crying during Jeremiah Johnson, didn’t I?”
Mathew, Sara, Sam, Pat, and I had gone to see the movie together when it first came out. Mathew had sat next to me and I’d cried hard.
“What were we, twelve, thirteen?” he asked.
“Thirteen. That scene, where Jeremiah’s family gets killed, you told me you would move if I didn’t stop crying,” I said.
