He lifted her like she was made of paper, so high and so fast it stole her breath. It made her dizzy—as did everything else about this innocent, friendly piggyback ride. His back seemed super tight to her chest, those big shoulder blades shifting and sliding right where she least wanted them to. And the grip he had on her thighs…it was way too firm. She would probably have bruises tomorrow.
Beautiful bruises,her mind supplied.
Before she quickly changed the subject in her head. It was a little easier to do that now, after all. There were at least ten other things to pay attention to once they were outside. The grounds were so dark and quiet, as though they’d been in there for hours and hours. And when she asked, it turned out they had. It was nearly one in the morning, on a Wednesday night. Everyone was in bed, and it gave an eerie feeling to their journey.
As did his silence.
He was always talking—she realized that then. Sometimes he practically kept up a running commentary on everything and anything, yet here he was as quiet as stone. And it wasn’t because he was exerting himself. He didn’t breathe hard once the whole time. He could have been carrying a backpack full of air for all the physical trouble she seemed to cause him.
But the idea of mental trouble lingered. When she tilted her head a little, she could practically hear his mind going over and over things, in a way that just wasn’t like him. He was easygoing. Happy-go-lucky. He never worried about things the way she did.
Until now.
“Tate, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. You just seem a little…”
Like an ominous statue of yourself.
“I was just thinking what movie we should watch.”
“Oh. Oh. You mean…right now?”
“Well, that’s what you came to get me for.”
“That’s true, I did come and get you for that.”
“Unless you don’t want me in your room so late.”
“No, no why would I…no, that’s cool.”
“You’re in the Haverford Building, right?”
She had the strongest urge to ask him how he knew. But that seemed just as weird as objecting to him being in her room.
Instead she pointed, then wished she hadn’t. Her bare arm brushed his face.
His stubble-bristled, firm-jawed, weirdly tense-seeming face.
“Yeah. You just go past the science block and then—”
“Right, right, right I got it, I got it. The statue of MLK is outside it, yeah?”
“That’s the one. Then it’s the third floor. Don’t worry though, there’s an elevator.”
“Ah, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. Feel like I could carry you around forever.”
Her whole body seemed to flush at that, though she had no idea why. It wasn’t an insult. In fact it veered very close to a compliment—one that rang true, too. He was no more tired when he got to her door than he had been when they started out. He didn’t even put her down right away, which gave her a moment of panic.
Someone was going to see eventually, if they were just standing out here with her on his back.
It seemed like a miracle no one had already, despite the time. His footsteps were pretty heavy, and Lydia in particular was a very light sleeper…
“Do you wanna let me unlock the door?”
“Oh shit, yeah. Yeah, go ahead,” he said, and she slid off his back gratefully. Those big hands stopped squeezing high up on her thighs; her front no longer had to endure the heat of his broad back. Everything had returned to the way it should be now between them.
