Tied Up in Knotts Ch. 11

My erection wasn't forgotten but the way he held me, like he was holding onto something he couldn't live without, that was the only feeling that mattered. It wasn't long before his heavy breathing slowed and I knew he was asleep.

I hated Lee and Paul for what they did to me. If Lee wanted to mess around outside of our marriage, he should've left me first. Same with Paul and his marriage. It seemed so simple to me. Why would anyone put themselves in a position that would open themselves up to infidelity? It doesn't just happen. You see it coming and choose to do nothing about it. It was something that always frustrated me. Yet, there I was, lying in bed with Penn. I'd handwritten an invitation to trouble. It was one of those fancy invitations with gold overlay and everything.

Dear Trouble, I saved you a front-row seat to my own destruction. I trust you'll encourage me along the way. I'll even let you hand me the shovel as I dig my own grave. -Nash

But I wasn't Lee or Paul. I might've opened the door but I wasn't going to be selfish and ruin someone else's life. I wasn't going to do any of that, but for the first time in my life, I knew the temptation and it was no joke.

****

I was ecstatic to wake up alone. No way could my face keep the previous night a secret. I'd need coffee and a shower before pretending like Penn hadn't plucked my fiddle like a master composure.

I pulled on my running shorts and made my way to the living room. Penn was sitting at the kitchen table, staring out the window with a cup of coffee. He was a million miles away as he strummed the mug with the same fingers that explored my body the night before.

Funny, I'd never considered hands to be an aspiring attribute until that moment. I tried to think about Lee's hands and what they looked like. They weren't the hands of a man who knew how to build a house, cut lumber or fix a car...that much I knew.

"Well, this is a first. You've never beaten me out of bed. Jet-lag?" I asked, taking my eyes off his all-knowing hands and moved through the kitchen to ready myself a cup of coffee.

"Yeah, I've been up for a while. So long it's almost time for a nap," he lifted the mug to his lips and took a sip—never looking directly at me.

"How about we go running instead?" I asked. "Jet lag is a cruel mistress who will slash your tires and key your car when you're not looking."

He finally looked at me. His brow lifted and a smirk pulled at the corner of his lip. I found it amazing how dark eyes like his could light up an entire room.

"You want me to go running on day-two of a fourteen-hour time change? I'll be worthless and better suited to run with toddlers."

"Perfect. I've always been great with little kids." I walked to where he was sitting and leaned down until we were eye level. "Would Pennington like to go for a wittle wun wun? Maybe afterward we can go to the park and get ice cream. Does that sound like fun?" I cooed and softly bopped him on the nose with my finger.

He broke into laughter and whatever awkwardness and tension he was holding on to, disappeared.

"Ice-cream for breakfast?" he smiled brightly. "You're my new favorite person."

"New favorite?" I cocked my brow. "More like securing my place at the top. Now c'mon," I patted my leg like I was beckoning a dog. "Only good boys get ice cream."

****

He collapsed on the grass and draped an arm over his eyes.

"Is this what it felt like after you ran in Seattle? Because, if so, I can't—" he huffed. "I'm dead."

"You know that was less than three miles, right? Seattle was twenty-six." I reached out and pressed the back of my hand against his sweaty forehead, then his cheek. "Your color looks good and you're not throwing up. I think you'll survive just fine. You're just out of shape."

"No, I'm not," he whined. "It's the elevation. My lungs aren't used to this altitude."

"This altitude?" I laughed. "We're at sea level. It's the same here as it is in Lincoln. Stop making excuses, you big baby."

He groaned like a dying whale. He wore a pair of my running shorts and an old cut-off tee that had seen better days. The shorts were perfectly too small and there was a gap between his waistband and the hem of his shirt. It left a peak of his tummy and the dark hair that lay beneath.

He sat up on his elbows and looked at me with the biggest puppy dog eyes I'd ever seen. "Did I earn ice cream?"

"Of course."

"Two scoops?"

At my nod, he managed to find enough energy to race me to the ice-cream shop two blocks away. Chocolate for me. Strawberry for Penn.

"Oh, by the way," I said as we walked around the park with our ice cream cones. "Do you still have my truck?"

"I do. It's parked next to the trailer."

"Okay, cool. I'll have my dad pick it up."

"Nah, it's fine. It's kind of fun. I drive it once a week or so to keep it alive. You should see the looks I get when people wave and realize I'm not you," he smiled proudly. "And for the record, I don't know why you were complaining when you drove my truck, way more people wave at you than wave at me. It makes me feel like the princess in the Homecoming parade," he shook his arm and rubbed the pretend ache away.

"Ahh, poor Pennington," I reached over and squeezed his bicep, "are these big things only for show?"

He made a show of flexing his muscles.

"These big things fixed your truck and flew halfway around the world to see you, so you better be nice to them."

"Nothing but respect, I assure you," I winked and squeezed his arm once more before letting go.

****

We decided to go home so we could shower and change before heading out for the day. It was the only time we had to tour the city before we began our trek across Thailand.

I knew Penn and I would travel well together. We were both laid back and rolled with the punches. We didn't have a lot of time and if we wanted to see everything on our list, then we needed to be flexible and quick.

Penn loved the markets. There were so many vendors and Penn kept finding things he wanted to take back home. A gift for everyone. Literally.

Penn's hand was on the small of my back as we navigated the hordes of people. I found myself reciprocating the gesture when I had the chance. I also found myself touching his arm or pinching his waist to get his attention.

"Ooo, what's that?" Penn stood behind me and rested his chin on my shoulder as he watched me look through a basket of wallets. I tried not to react when I felt his breath on my neck.

"Turns out they scored a great deal on luxury wallets. See this?" I flashed him the brown leather bi-fold that I was holding. "This is a Tom Ford wallet. They're normally four-hundred bucks but these are on sale for forty. Do you think they buy direct from the manufacturer?" I joked, knowing they were fakes.

I felt him laugh against my back. "Since when has Tom been spelled with two m's?"

I furrowed my brows and inspected the wallet closer. I elbowed him when he tossed his head back and laughed. He played me, there wasn't two m's. A moment later he reached around me to look at a different wallet, never taking his chin off my shoulder.

"I like this one," he flipped the newest wallet over and opened it using one hand while the other lay gently, innocently, on my hip.

"Burberry, nice."

He looked at the tag. "Also forty bucks. Sold."

We bought our fake wallets and moved on. He found the knock-off items amusing and bought one for everyone because he thought they'd find it hilarious. We had planned to eat at a nice restaurant but by the time we were done, we were exhausted. We found a local hole in the wall and called it a day.

"I feel bad that we didn't see more of the city."

"Don't. I had so much fun today," he said over his plate of Pad Thai. "It was perfect."

"It was fun, wasn't it?" I smiled and took a bite of my own food. "And to think, this is just the beginning."

Penn looked at me, held my eyes, then smiled. The smile itself was small but his eyes told a different story. "Yeah, just the beginning."

Penn was toast by the time we got home. After waking up in the middle of the night and then staying up all day, he could barely keep his eyes open as he stripped for bed.

"Do you want to change positions?" I asked. He was the overly tired one and deserved to have dibs on the most comfortable position for him.

He shook his head and motioned for me to go first. He yawned and crawled in after me. Too tired to give a fuck, Penn wrapped his body around mine. I wasn't even fully settled before his breathing was slow and steady from sleep.

****

The sound of Penn's alarm woke me. It took me a second for my brain to defrost from sleep. His phone was inconveniently placed across the room so we couldn't ignore it. It played a soft musical tone, unlike the loud, intense ringtone my phone had.

We weren't in the same position we'd fallen asleep in. Penn was on his belly with one arm curled under his head and the other hung over the side. My head rested between his shoulder blades. It was surprisingly comfortable. I could've stayed there all day if my morning wood wasn't digging into the back of his thigh.

I pushed myself off and tilted my hips away from his body, not willing to go there. "Penny Poo, time to wake up," I sang, still hovering over his beautiful frame.

He groaned then stretched his muscles. It was incredibly sexy to watch his body flex like that.

I had always thought Lee was sexy. He was neither fat nor fit and I thought I loved that about him. I was starting to think my mind had adapted for survival reasons. I needed to find him attractive because he was my husband. But looking at Penn, I couldn't help but think I had been royally screwed over in my past. I had definitely pulled the short end of the stick when it came to Lee. If I'd had a taste of Penn before Lee—well, Lee never would've given me a boner.

Reluctantly, I crawled over him and walked across the room to silence the alarm. Penn was sitting on the end of the bed, his dark hair a total mess and his shoulder slouched as he tried to wake up.

"Sleep well?" I asked as I grabbed my clothes for the day.

"I don't know," his deep morning voice sent chills down my spine. Two whole weeks of that deep baritone would be the end of me. "I feel like I just went to sleep."

"You did—" I glanced at the clock. "Eight hours ago. Sleep time is over my friend. We have places to go and things to see."

"Ugh, fine."

I discreetly watched as Penn rolled out of bed and fumbled his way to the bathroom. Honest to God, I wasn't creeping on him. It had nothing to do with him being half-naked. He could've been drying dishes or tossing something in the trash, it didn't matter, I just like watching him.

We were already packed and I had everything waiting by the door. All I needed was him and we could start our long-awaited and much-anticipated road trip. When he finished tying his shoes, he tossed his jacket over his shoulder to signal he was ready to go.

"Took you long enough." I held his pack out for him and when he made a grab for it, I playfully pulled it out of reach. "I was starting to think you'd changed your mind about spending the next ten days traveling with me."

He reached for it again, this time I let him grab it and watched as he slung it over his shoulder. He opened the door and paused.

"Changed my mind? There's nothing, in my whole life, that I've looked forward to as much as this."

****

"So, this is your car?" He tried not to laugh but failed miserably. Maybe he wasn't trying so hard after all.

"Yes," I opened the small trunk and threw my bag in. "It may not live up to your standards but this beauty is going to get us where we need to go. It may not be in style, it may not be in comfort, hell, it may not be without breaking down, but dammit," I pounded my fist on the roof in faux determination, "we will get there!"

"Does the radio work?"

"Define 'work'."

"I'll take that as a no. What about air conditioning?"

"Define 'air conditioning'."

"Oh my god," he opened the passenger door. "Please tell me the windows roll down?"

I made a big show of rolling down the window, which I had to do carefully because the hand crank was missing part of the handle. Penn followed my lead and tested his, too. For a run down beater the windows were surprisingly easy to roll. Like, it practically fell down it was so easy.

"Bet I can do this one with my pinky." He could not, in fact, do it with his pinky, which made me laugh. "My pinky has jetlag," he whined in defeat. I rolled my eyes and laughed at how cute he was.

Penn was too busy noticing how incredibly uncomfortable the seats were to comment on the fact the car sounded like a jet plane when it started or how it shook like a cheap coin-operated hotel bed when it idled.

****

We said goodbye to Bangkok.

Road tripping with Penn was everything I could've asked for. He didn't complain that the radio didn't work or that it was hot as hell outside. For three days we travelled without much of a plan. Between sleeping in hostels and eating at local hotspots, we saw everything there was to see.

Penn was looking through his phone when he burst out laughing. "Oh shit, look at this—" he shoved his phone in my face. When I struggled to drive and see the picture, he scooted closer until he was pressed against my side. Evidentially, the close proximity gave him the stability he needed to hold the phone steady.

The picture was one we'd taken on the way back from the waterfall. There were these giant boulders that sat on a cliff and overlooked the vast canyon. From the right angle you could make it look like you were hanging over the canyon like Ethan Hunt in the opening scene of Mission Impossible. The picture turned out great. I looked like a total daredevil even though I was mere inches off the ground.

"I'm so impressed with myself," I smiled at the picture. "I'm definitely posting that...along with the one of you."

He eyed me suspiciously. "Which one?"

I hadn't shown him the photos. I kept one eye on the road as I thumbed through my phone until I found the ones I was looking for. They were hilarious.

Penn had tried to duplicate the awesomeness that was my Mission Impossible pose when the situation took a turn for the worse. Instead of looking like a shirtless badass; clinging to the side of a massive rock while his muscles rippled under the heat of the day, he was screaming and ducking for cover as a couple of small bird dive bombed him over and over. I'd taken so many pictures it was practically a live action video. By the time the bird left him alone, I was curled on the ground laughing harder than I ever had before.

Turns out that there was a nest with baby birds sitting a foot away from where we were hanging on the boulder. Looked like mama only had patience for one of us to dilly too close for comfort before she decided to pull out a can of whoop ass.

"You didn't!" He grabbed my phone so he could get a better look. "I almost died and you were taking pictures?!"

"You didn't almost die! It was a tiny bird."

"Yeah, okay, easy for you to say. She wasn't aiming for your face. You didn't see what I saw, Nash. She was out for blood."

His reaction had me laughing all over again. He kept the commentary going, telling me how terrible I was and explained, in detail, how his life had flashed before his eyes as the mama bird tried to defend her young. The more exasperated he got, the harder I laughed.

It was nice—the laughing and teasing. Lee and I always had fun together but it was different. Lee never let loose the way Penn could. Something I never saw until now.

When the laughter died down, he turned his attention to the old, dilapidated bench seat.

"Yeah," he bounced a few times. "This spot is way more comfortable. Over there (his former spot by the door) feels like I'm about to get a surprise colonoscopy."

I didn't know what to say, so I laughed. He'd just excused himself to be saddled against me for the remainder of the trip. Without wasting another second, he draped his arm on the back of the seat behind me and pretended it wasn't weird that he was sitting bitch in the tiny car.

At first, we both kept our legs from touching but the car wasn't big and I don't think either of us cared enough to pretend. It took an hour or so before our thighs were pressed against each other as we drove through the middle of nowhere. It wasn't that big of a deal, yet, my heart was racing and my hands felt clammy.

It was just Penn and I—a few thousands of miles from home. It was easy to pretend that things were different; to imagine neither of us had baggage back at home. Baggage that kept us apart.

"How'd you get started running?" Penn asked as we drove.

"How'd you start wrestling?"

"I signed up for it."

"Me too. My parents always told us that we could do whatever we wanted as long as we did something. We could either participate in sports, music, or art. I wasn't interested in a lot of sports but I did cross country because Seth wanted me to."

"So, do you play music?"

"I mean, yeah. Running was the only sport I really did which means I played a lot of music in the off season. I was never serious about it until I joined Yevo. Now I'm pretty decent with the guitar, piano, and the drum box.

"Of course you are."

"What's that mean," I side eyed Penn.

"You would be good at everything."

"Oh, because you're not? How many sports did you letter in your freshman year?" When he didn't answer, I continued, "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Whatever."

"Whatever," I mocked, then squeezed his knee, making him squirm. He tried to swat my hand away but I kept digging my fingers into his leg until he was laughing and flailing against me. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do while driving but there was no one around and the speed limit wasn't all that fast. I finally let go. By the way he was eyeing my leg I knew he was planning on retaliating. I sat up and put both hands on the steering.

"I'm driving," I reminded him.

"Yeah, well, you can't drive forever."

I looked at him and found him smiling. Every now and then I'd change the gear and leave my hand hovering over his leg, just to freak him out. That, and the glare he gave me turned me inside out—had me totally tied in knots.

"You're walking a fine line, Nay," he warned after my hand hovered one too many times.

"What?" I asked oh so innocently. "You took my arm rest and now I don't have anywhere to put my hand when I'm not shifting gears. I guess I'll just have to set it here," I said, resting my hand on his knee. I didn't grip his leg like I had before, but I was walking the line and, judging by how stiff he was, it made him nervous knowing I could attack at any moment.

He eyed my hand on his leg but didn't say anything. We drove through a small town and after every gear change, my hand went right back to his leg. Yeah, I was doing a shit job at keeping the door between us closed. The constant smile on Penn's face made it clear that he was doing a shit job, too.

So, we drove on. His arm draped behind my seat, mine over his leg, both of us pretending like it was normal as fuck.

Totally normal for Penn to graze his thumb over my shoulder or for me to do the same on his leg.

So. Fucking. Normal.