Tied Up in Knotts Ch. 02

I was nervous as I walked the street to Paul's house. If I knew why there was tension, I probably wouldn't have been so high strung. I was a fixer and I couldn't fix this because I didn't know what was broke. It was never like this before. When I first joined Yevo, Paul and I were close. He was excited for our partnership, and together, we dreamed up a vision for the mission.

At some point in the last year, everything changed.

Paul was full of contempt the moment he opened the door for me. I knew I was in for another frustrating meeting. He didn't offer coffee or water like he used to, he simply led me to the kitchen table and sat down.

I always thought he was an attractive man. He wasn't tall, maybe five-seven. He was the manager of a lumber yard. He every bit the man's man you'd expect and arrogant to boot. Now that he was being an ass, I started to notice other things, like, his nose wasn't all that great and he walked like he was trying to keep a turd from dropping.

If he had the power to fire me, I'd have been out a last year. Luckily, I was employed by Yevo and, although Paul's family had sustained the non-profit since the eighties and were key supporters, they couldn't do anything besides drive me insane.

"How's the fundraising going? Camp is less than a month away."

Ignoring his condescending tone, I pulled out my iPad and, with a few touches, I had the financials for all one-hundred-thirteen kids who were signed up.

"Great," I answered. "We finished the last fundraiser. They raised a bit more than we planned."

I scrolled through the spreadsheet which showed a breakdown of all the kids, which fundraisers they participated in, how much they earned, what their balance was, and if they earned a scholarship, that was listed also.

"How's the fundraising on your part?" I asked. Last fall we had created a camp budget. It specified how much I needed to fundraise, how much we wanted the kids to fundraise, and how much the committee would raise. Camp is quite the production and costs around one-hundred-thousand dollars total. Paul wanted me to come up short and I hadn't.

"We're almost there," he said. "We're doing one last push. I'm not worried."

He might not be worried but he was annoyed that I'd surpassed my goal when they hadn't even reached theirs. We talked more about camp and put together bullet points for the next committee meeting. He even asked if I could talk to Sam Masey about giving some money. Macey was an old friend of mine, literally, he was in his nineties. He had more money than anyone else I knew. When I told him that Sam had already been generous, and that I didn't want to push for more, he lectured me on not being a team player.

I wasn't a violent guy but something about Paul's behavior made me want to deck him in the face. I was fed up with his pointed statements and dismissive behavior.

"Nash." Paul's voice was laced with annoyance. "I noticed we don't have as many kids going to camp as we wanted. What happened there?"

"We couldn't get the spots," I pointed out. "There's other schools going and the camp has limited numbers. You know this, Paul. We addressed this months ago."

"It's just disappointing is all. It feels like you're slipping a bit. It might be time to evaluate where your priorities are. If you weren't so busy planning time away from Lincoln, we might have more kids going."

I stared at him, unbelievingly. My whole life was Yevo. I lived and breathed for the kids. I volunteered at the school so I could understand them and be in their lives. I attended almost every school event, sporting event, and judged competitions for them. I drove them around, spent countless weekends on adventures with them, raised money, and put myself out there every day, for them, for Yevo.

For the kids.

Since I became the director, the numbers have exploded. Eight kids went to camp the year before I came on. Eight. Now there was one-hundred-thirteen. That number was unheard of considering the size of our school.

"If there's a problem with my job performance I'd be happy to discuss it with the rest of the Committee present. If this is all, I'll see my way out." I was fuming. I grabbed my tablet and left before he could say anything else to cut me down. Something had soured him and I literally had no clue what it could be.

****

I was practically exploding when I entered the house, slamming the front door behind me. I paced around and then started cleaning things that didn't need cleaning. That's what I did when I was angry, I cleaned. More like slammed things around in frustration while I stewed. I was in my head for so long I almost missed the game.

I didn't want to miss the playoff game but I was so angry I was shaking. I figured that if I didn't want to be a pissy asshole then I needed to run off my frustration.

It was amazing. I made it to the ballfield in record time. I think my anger metabolized into some sort of unbridled energy. I ran faster and harder than I ever had and I still felt like I had energy to spare as I walked the final distance to the bleachers.

Running had done its job; I was feeling better.

I was buying a bottle of water from the small parent run concession when I heard my name being yelled.

"Cushman!"

I found a group of fifteen kids waving me over. The bleachers were full but they made room as I climbed to the top.

"What's up Ninja Nash?" David greeted, making everyone laugh.

Ninja Nash was supposed to be a one-time character I used during a special edition club for night games. The character and the skit were a huge hit and since I had worn my running clothes to save money, Ninja Nash never died.

It always surprised me that parents never wanted to spend time with their kids because they have better things to do only to turn around and complain that their kids don't want anything to do with them. There were times that they drove me insane but otherwise I really enjoyed our times together. I thought they were hilarious and surprisingly insightful.

I sat with everyone for a while and talked about nothing and everything until I saw Tim, a friend of mine. I excused myself to say hi. We didn't hang out often but we'd been friends for years and I enjoyed his company.

"So, this is what teenagers have done to your fashion, huh? Very Tiger Beat of you," he teased my spandex running outfit.

"Tiger Beat?" I asked, surprised he remembered the popular teen bop magazine from middle school. "What would you know about Tiger Beat?"

"I know they always had a blonde boy-band on the cover."

"Yeah? You remember all the covers that had blonde boy-bands on the cover?" I raised a brow, genuinely humored by his response.

"Shut up. I just meant that you're blonde." He rolled his eyes but his cheeks pinked. "Your hair looks good by the way," he reached out and pulled at the blonde hair that was sticking out every which way because of my elastic headband.

Tim was never good at jokes, but he sure found himself funny. He made a few more lame jokes that didn't come close to actually insulting me before Ryan and a few other guys, including his brother Logan, joined us. They come straight from work. Ryan wore a ball cap and tattered sweatshirt with his company logo. His boots and jeans were in the same terrible shape.

Logan was cleaner than his brother, who was covered in concrete dust, but dirty enough to have that hot construction guy thing going on.

"What's got you in stitches?" Ryan asked Tim, who in response, gestured at my whole being.

"Nash, that's what," he laughed.

"He's just jealous that he doesn't have the body to pull this off," I said confidently, striking a pose.

They were country loving, 4x4 driving, all American men and I was probably the only gay person they knew (well, Lee and I), and was currently wearing nothing but black spandex at a baseball playoff game.

"Not many do," Ryan laughed and I blushed.

Logan looked confused. "You ran here? I thought I saw you running this morning?" Before I could respond, Logan smiled at someone behind me. I turned to see who it was.

It wasn't bad enough to have two of the three Knott brothers, plus a few others, while wearing nothing but spandex. Penn had to come too.

I felt myself flexing in an effort to appear fit in front of the trio. I had a nice body but spandex wasn't a forgiving outfit. It had a way of accentuating things like love handles and soft bellies even on the hardest of bodies.

I was lost in my thoughts, trying to subtly tighten and tone for a group of guys who probably never looked twice at another man, when I realized that everyone was looking at me, waiting. My eyes darted around the group, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Didn't you already run this morning?" Logan repeated, refreshing my memory.

"Oh, yeah. You did see me, right before some psycho tried to run me over," I added, shooting Ryan my most intimidating glare, to which he laughed.

Everyone wanted the details of my near-death experience.

"I was just trying to get your attention, sue me!" Ryan cried.

"Who am I suing and why?" Lee interrupted, wrapping an arm around my waist as he joined the conversation.

"Ryan tried to murder me with his car. I think we can get him with attempted murder, vehicular manslaughter, reckless driving, endangerment, maybe something about a using a car as a weapon? I'm sure there's more." I nudge Lee toward Ryan. "Now go nail his ass to the wall, babe!"

"Next time I'm going to finish the job," Ryan grumbled under his breath.

I squeezed Lee, "Now he's threatening me! Isn't that harassment?".

"Fine," Ryan sighed with faux annoyance, "I'll buy dinner tonight, in exchange, you drop all charges."

"Throw in two alcoholic beverages each and you have yourself a deal," Lee offered. Ryan shook his hand and the deal was done.

"You're a shitty lawyer, you know that?" I complained. I pulled Lee into my side, squeezing him extra hard out of love and punishment. He laughed and tried to wiggle his way out of my grip. The thing I loved about Lee was how contagious he was. When he was happy, everyone was happy.

"This is the last time I work pro-bono for you, you ungrateful swine," he responded, digging his fingers into my side just enough to make me curl over.

"That's fine, Chambers will represent me."

He looked at me and growled. It was a pathetic growl, making me, along with everyone else, laugh. Lee hated that Chambers liked me better than him. He looked at Ryan with a serious expression. "Next time don't hesitate, accelerate."

I looked at my precious little Lee and gasped. Lee turned away from me, making me laugh even harder. Logan and Ryan high fived him on the epic burn.

"Traitors, all of you," I said, pointing to everyone in the group with a smile.

We continued talking and laughing until the game ended in a victory for Lincoln High. Most everyone filtered off the field and into their cars when Ryan stopped us.

"We're heading straight to Mazatlan."

"See you there," Lee replied as we walked away.

Realizing that the earlier invitation to dinner wasn't a joke, I quickly turned back toward Ryan. "Oh no," I said, waving my hand frantically. "Thanks for the offer but we have to pass."

"C'mon. It's a celebration for today's win. Join us," Jane said with a sweet smile gracing her face.

I liked her the most. Jane was blonde, fun, and absolutely hilarious. In a family of picture-perfect wives, Jane stood out. She in her mid-forties with more important things to do than eating salads. She was by no means fat but she was definitely bigger than the other wives despite being an avid runner. She never made excuses. She was who she was.

"Sorry," I frowned.

Lee nudged me, silently telling me to shut up. He wanted to join them for dinner. Easy for him since he was dressed like a normal person.

"I'm sweaty, gross, and in desperate need of a shower and a change. Maybe another time?"

"No one cares what you're wearing," Ryan said, rolling his eyes. "Just come."

"If no one cares, then trade me clothes and I'll go," I challenged. It was easy for people to force others to do something they didn't have to do. Like, going to a restaurant dressed like Cat-woman. "Another time then?" I offered, letting him off the hook.

"No. Let's trade." He looked at Jane then at Penn. His brother looked at him like he was certifiable. Ryan waved me over. "Well, hurry, we have a reservation to make."

"Oh my god, Ryan is going to strip," Lee whispered beside me.

I started laughing. "No way," I shook my head. "I'm not striping down in the parking lot and I'm not trading you clothes. I was joking! It was a joke!"

"Everyone is gone," he tossed his hat to his wife and pulled off his sweatshirt. "If you want privacy, you might want to come over here." Where they parked their car was more private, not that there were many cars left in this section of the parking lot, anyway. Lee had to nudge me several times before I moved voluntarily.

Ryan took his shirt off. He was literally undressing in the parking lot and waiting me to do the same.

"Ryan, stop," I said as he started unbuttoning his jeans and toeing off his boots. "I wasn't kidding when I said I stink. I sweated a ton during the run. You don't want to trade, trust me."

He didn't seem to care so I decided to go with the flow. If he wanted to strip naked and swap dirty clothes in the middle of a deserted parking lot then who was I to say no?

Everyone cheered when I pulled the hem of my shirt over my head. The air was electric, buzzing with excitement.

"There's no turning back," I said as I tossed him my running shirt and started for my pants.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he pulled his jeans off until he stood wearing nothing but socks and plaid boxers.

Ryan was solid, I knew he would be. I was taller, leaner with a smaller waist and more definition, but he was undoubtedly stronger. Built from a life of physical labor.

I stood in my compression shorts and watched as Ryan pulled on my running pants. Everyone started laughing at the sight. The pants didn't go on him as easy as they did for me. He looked at me and laughed as he shimmied and jumped around.

Ryan stuck his hand down the front of the pants and tried to smooth his boxers out. There's a reason boxers shouldn't be worn under spandex. That reason was now painfully obvious. Jane tossed him my shirt and he pulled it on. It was tight on me, on Ryan, it looked plain ridiculous.

"I'm going to insist you replace those when you're done. They'll never return to normal."

"What are you talking about? Fits like a dream." The fabric looked like it was going to cut off his circulation when he flexed his muscles. Once he was satisfied, he tossed me his clothes.

"Your turn."

I started with pants, which were too big. Even buttoned they hung so low they barely stayed on my hips. I glanced at Lee and noticed he was practically drooling as he watched me. I was thankful I'd been taking my training and nutrition seriously. I ran my fingers along the waistband 'adjusting my pants' just to drive my husband nuts before pulling on Ryan's shirt and sweatshirt.

I made a face. His clothes smelled like rock dust. There was so much I could practically taste it.

"And you thought I was going to be the one suffering," Ryan laughed as he watched my reaction.

I rolled my eyes and we both finished putting on our shoes. I took one final look at Ryan and laughed. As hot as I thought he was, his bulkier body was not made for a spandex suit. The loose boxers didn't help and neither did his work boots.

"How's it hanging over there?" I asked, smirking as he tried to adjust the pants once more.

"Nice and tight," he said, grabbing his junk. "Other than that, not too bad. Actually—" he started stretching his body, "it's pretty comfy."

"We need a picture. This is too good to pass up," someone said. The next thing I knew, Ryan and I were striking poses while everyone laughed and took pictures with their phones. When the group had enough photographic evidence to last a lifetime, we left.

Lee and I laughed on the way to the restaurant. Of all the things I thought would happen in my life, trading clothes with Ryan in the middle of a parking lot after a baseball game wasn't one of them. I couldn't even begin to dissect why he'd go to such extremes just to have Lee and I join them for dinner.

****

It was hard to miss them when we arrived. Even if they hadn't been a group of twelve standing in the front of the restaurant, their energy would have given them away. They always radiated. That's why people love them. That energy was ten-fold now that Ryan was dressed in black spandex, preening at all the comments.

"Does this outfit come with your company credit card? If not, I must insist that it does," I said, gesturing at the branded logo I was wearing.

"In your dreams." He waved wallet, which I snatched from his fingers before joining the rest of the group in the lobby. Ryan's protests quickly turned into laughter.

"Hello," I leaned against the counter. "I'm Ryan Knott and I smell like dirt. This is my family and I have a reservation for all one thousand of us. It should be under my name, Ryan Knott, because that's me," I opened the wallet and flashed Ryan's driver's license for verification.

The host looked between me and Ryan and laughed. They ate there once or twice a week for years; everyone knew who they were. They even knew what they ate. I put my arm around Jane and followed the host to the table. Not to be one-upped, Ryan slipped his fingers in Lee's, who blushed at the attention.

Ryan and Lee sat across from Jane and I. The others randomly filled in the empty spots, sitting by whomever they felt like chatting with until the only spot left was next to me.

I glanced at Lee and noticed Logan was sitting on his other side. I tried not to be obvious but I couldn't stop the smirk. If heaven was sitting between Ryan and Logan, then Lee was a dead man.

I was looking at the menu when the table erupted. "Look who decided to join us! Don't worry, we saved you a spot. Prime seating I might add," Ryan gestured toward me and the open seat, bowing slightly as if he was addressing royalty.

Penn didn't seem happy about it, maybe even a little stressed, but he sat next to me.

"Hey, how's it going?" I asked, trying to be friendly. He stared, like a deer in headlights, then mumbled 'fine'. The next thing I knew I was staring at the back of his head as he spoke to his father, who sat on his other side.

Despite Penn's less-than-friendly behavior, dinner was awesome. Everyone made fun of Ryan, who easily laughed along. He and I went back and forth all night. I pretended to be him and he pretended to be me.

Imitation is the best form of flattery they say. And Ryan was definitely flattering me. 'Look at me, I'm Nash Cushman and I walk on water. I work with kids, volunteer my time, and run marathons all over the world,'. None of his comments had spiteful undertones. He really thought me a decent person.

When the check came his family tossed bills on the table to cover their part of dinner. Not really expecting him to pay for us, I signaled for Lee to do the same. Ryan stopped Lee before he could get his wallet out.

"Dinners on me, I insist."

"No," I pressed. "We're celebrating teams's victory. Lee and I are happy to pay for our own meal. We appreciate the gesture."

Ryan stopped Lee again, this time giving him a stern look. Lee put his wallet away. For a lawyer, Lee was terrible at confrontation.

"We're celebrating the team's win and your nomination."

I looked at Ryan in confusion. I had no idea what he was talking about. I hadn't been nominated for anything. Lee looked just as confused as me. Everyone was staring at me, surprised by my surprise.