Page 77 of Straight to Me

“I hoped you’d say that.”

He holds me with one hand, leaning all his weight on my wrists. His other hand reaches behind him, running up the inside of my thigh. I cross my legs, squeezing as tight as I can.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“Then you know, you’re in trouble.”

“You won’t be able to get my pants off from there.”

He smiles, enjoying my playful resistance. “Oh, I don’t need your pants off for what I have planned.” My eyes widen as he runs his hand over my ribs.

“You wouldn’t,” I plea. He digs his fingers in, tickling me mercilessly at my hip. “Ah! You bastard!” I can’t see him, my eyes are shut as my body squirms, but I know he’s enjoying this.

“Please!”

“Please what?” He digs in his fingers again. I try to turn away from him, somewhere between laughing and crying.

“I’ll get you back!” I choke out, a tear of laughter rolling down my cheek.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be making threats, Mads,” he laughs, moving both hands over my ribs. Gaining some freedom, I push against his thighs trying to release myself from his hold.

“VP, please. I’ll throw up!”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

“I’m serious!”

I pull at his arms in desperation and manage to get free of him. I scramble to my feet off the bed, my hair wayward on top of my head. He looks at me wide eyed and playful, but my stomach growls angrily at the smell of pancakes which still hangs heavy in the air.

“You’re hungry.” He smiles, standing and walking over to me by the door. My stomach rumbles again as if answering him. “We need to fix that.” He wraps his arms around me and gently nibbles my ear. I let my head roll to one side, torn between my need to get him back, and my need to eat.

I don't want our playful moment to be over, but the heavenly scent of sweet pancakes is too hard to ignore. “Let me feed you,” he says. He kisses my lips softly, making me relax into him. “Then maybe if you behave, I'll let you win before we leave."

I smile and turn sharpish, eager to play this game.

After breakfast, and lots of me winning, I made sure I had everything packed and loaded it into the van. VP made sure I wore my boots, telling me he had a hiking track in mind for today. He was excited to take me camping. No doubt he already had it all planned out.

We drive across country for just over an hour, heading towards Malham. VP sings along to his playlist most of the way and he is beautiful to watch, slapping the steering wheel to Led Zeppelin and AC/DC. The scenery is also unreal. Field after field filled with cows and livestock blanket the horizon. Tall cliffs of rock and an endless sea of green are all that can be seen.

We pass ample amounts of bikers, weaving and speeding along the narrow lanes. VP smiles as they skim past us, telling me how his dad used to ride him out this way when he was young. I guess his dad was the reason he found his love for two wheels.

As we drop down into Malham itself, we pull into a secluded field with only one other tent occupying the area. VP makes light work of putting up our accommodation for the night. While he does that, I collect wood from the service cabin next to the eco loo. One thing’s for sure, whenever I’ve camped, we’ve always had showers and toilets nearby.

This is definitely wild camping. Thank God there’s only us and one other camper, otherwise I dread to think what the compost toilet would look like.

I walk back with a heavy bag of wood in my hands, VP sees me and comes over to help carry it. “Thanks, bloody thing weighs a ton,” I say. He laughs, effortlessly putting it in the back of the van. “Where’s the food? I’ll pack some things for our walk,” I suggest.

“Already done. The rucksack, there,” he says, pointing to the bag. I smile at how well organised he is.

Having someone be one step ahead of me feels nice for a change. The stress and worry I’m used to are alleviated with him around. The trivial things that I overthink and panic about are the things he’s already sorted.

VP bangs the last peg into the ground, and I wonder if I should have helped. He’s silent, thoughtful, as he finishes setting the tent up. “You okay?” I ask.

He turns to me with a smile. “I’m happy. Ready to walk 12K?”

My mouth opens. “Twelve.Kilometres?”

He laughs. “Well, it’s 6K to where I want to take you, then 6K back. Will probably take us four or five hours, depending on how fast you walk.”

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