Page 187 of If Our Hearts Collide

And I let her—within reason.

I dodge her kick but can’t avoid her slap. “Ouch.”

Penny’s using all sorts of creative moves that would never hold up in a true fight, but she doesn’t seem to care.

When she charges toward me again, I squat down and hoist her up above my head and then send her down toward the blue mat, all while cushioning her fall.

Lying on top of her, I use my legs to immobilize her and pin her wrists to the mat.

“What in the world, Penny?” I huff out, trying to catch my breath.

She thrashes underneath my weight. “Get off of me!”

But I don’t allow her to move. I just press her into the mat and give her the space to struggle without hurting herself.

I hate that she is this fired up, and for what? I have no clue.

“I’m mad at you!”

My eyes search hers. “Fine. But at least tell me why.”

“No!”

“Yes. Tell me what has you so upset.”

She twists and turns, trying to shoulder her way out of my hold.

But it’s useless.

And that part actually scares me.

“If you ever have a man on top of you and you need to get out of the hold, I’m going to teach you the steps. But I need you to be calm enough to listen.”

So I wait. I scoop an arm under her lower back, and I wait.

I wait for Penny’s breathing to get back to a nonpanting status.

I wait for her face to become less flushed.

And I wait until she stops trying to push me away.

“Are you ready now?”

I watch as the heat that was once so present in her eyes fizzles out to lukewarm. But behind those pretty blues, I still see the fight she has inside of her.

Penny nods.

“I need your words.”

“I’m ready.”

Compliance must taste horrible on her tongue if her facial expression is any indication of her true feelings.

I want to laugh, but I also value full usage of my genitals. So I resist.

And for the next thirty minutes, I teach Penny the necessary steps on how to get out of a hold if someone is undesirably on top of her.

“Are you still mad at me?” I ask, handing Penny a small white sweat towel.

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