Love at First Fight - A Gallagher Girls Story

Chapter Four

It definitely wasn't the most restful night's sleep I'd ever gotten. Of course, a restful night's sleep was rare nowadays—I was usually lucky to get more than a few hours at a time.

Except this was a whole new level of alertness. A brand new beat of the heart and catch of the breath. Adrenaline was a natural and necessary part of my lifestyle, but never once had it felt so fluid. This was an adventure unlike any of the others and I couldn't tell if I was excited or if I was terrified.

A date.

A date.

Rogue operatives with a grudge against my mother, I could handle. Dates, on the other hand, were a whole new ballgame.

I gave up on the sleep.

The air stuck to me as I threw my blankets aside, my skin seizing at the touch of the fan that sat propped up against my bookshelf. The hum of the blades provided the perfect cover as I tiptoed across the room and peeled to door open. It was three AM, about the time Grandpa Joe liked to wake up, so I had to be careful. If anyone knew what it was like to have the night steel your sleep, it had to be Grandpa Joe, and he would surely proceed to worry almost immediately after.

When I got to the base of the familiar steps leading down to the foyer, I was struck cold by the sound of my brother's laughter. It was low and soft, but very much there, as warm and welcoming as ever. Just the sound of it made me want to step into the kitchen, but I knew that if there was a second person who understood night's thieving tendencies, then it had to be Matt.

I didn't need him worrying too. I knew that I couldn't step into that kitchen. Especially not when I heard Macey's laugh soon after. "I've seen more than my fair share of secret relationships," she said. "And you two were one of the worst."

That was when I heard Scout, his voice quiet and far too aware of the hour. "But we weren't the worst."

"No," Macey allowed. "The award for most obvious secret relationship goes to our very own Cameron Morgan—and speaking of Morgans..."

The wooden stool creaked as she leaned, catching a glance down the hallway. The boys followed her lead and soon all three of them were looking right at me. "Are you going to join us?" she said. "Or are you just going to stand there until the sun comes up?"

I nodded. "The sun sounds good to me."

Macey pulled a spoon to her mouth and sat upright on the stool again. "Come get some breakfast, Maggie."

It was too early for breakfast. My stomach tightened just at the thought, but I wasn't getting out of this one. No siree. Macey McHenry was going to funnel a well balanced meal down my throat if it was the last thing she did, so I decided to save us both the trouble and stepped into the kitchen as if it had been my idea from the start.

Matt was sitting on the counter. For years, Grandma had been telling him not to sit there, but it was the only place where Scout could get enough light, so a temporary truce had been made over the summer. Matt could sit on the counters, just as long as Scout needed the extra light in order to patch him up.

Matt had been sitting on the counters for a long time.

His shirt was off and the light was blazing. Even after all these months, I could see the damage that had been done. More likely than not, they were scars that would fade, but never quite disappear—seven cuts along one lung, ten along the other, each once splicing the soft spot between two ribs. He was nervous about that one. You could see it in the way he walked, hunched over and careful, never moving too quickly. He had learned early on that the tiniest twist of the torso could pull his stitches.