Page 33 of Cream and Punishment
He adjusted his hold on me and the donkey suit trailing on the ground. “She’s the one from the Christmas party, right? The one McBride likes?”
“Right?” I burst out, wincing at my volume and the sharp pebble my flip-flop landed on. I lowered my voice, so it barely carried over my gasps for air. “Sorry. But,for real, right? Everyone can see it except them, and it’s driving me nuts.”
He shifted again. “I guess it’s easier when you’re the outsider looking in? Things look different when you’re too close to it all.”
The weight his words carried made my skin crawl. Not from the truth of them—of which there was plenty—but because I got the distinct impression he wasn’t just talking about Hattie and McBride. If anything, he was referencing something from his own past. SomethingI’dplayed a part in.
I didn’t say anything. Partly because guilt was gnawing its way up my throat, but mostly because sweat was starting to gather in every available crevice on my body. My one good leg shook from exertion, my bum ankle throbbed with every rapid beat of my heart, and my lungs felt like forge billows someone had stuck an elephant on top of.
“Are we there yet?” I managed to ask between breaths.
We slowed to a stop. Max shifted his hold on me and the donkey again, undoubtedly uncomfortable.
“We’ve made it half a block.”
I groaned, not caring how loud it was or that it sent a crow flapping away from the telephone pole overhead. “Just leave me here to die. Don’t let me drag you down anymore, Max. Save yourself while you still can.”
He chuckled and straightened, letting my arm slide down his back while he looked around. “I think I might have a solution where we both make it out of here alive.”
I swiped sweaty curls out of my face. “What is it?”
A mischievous gleam lit his eyes as he grinned, his features cast in sharp shadows from the streetlamp’s glow. “You’re not going to like it.”
twelve
Maxwasright.Thiswas the worst. Second only to the hobbling.
After trying a few different positions, including riding him piggyback—don’t even get me started on the heyday Max had with that one, given our ‘donkey business’ debate—we’d settled on the least uncomfortable option. Him, carrying me bridal style, and me, wearing the cursed donkey costume.
Itmight’vebeen romantic—all of mine and Max’s history aside—if I didn’t have a tail. And smacking his chin with my donkey nose every time I tried to turn my head was a total mood killer, so there’s that.
“It smells like baked beans in here.” An oblivious observer might say I was complaining, but they’d be wrong. I was simply informing him of important truths about our situation.
“On the plus side, no one will be able to identify you,” he offered, grinning.
He showed few signs of tiring, despite the fact we’d already gone almost a full block like this. He was a vision, honestly, even from my awkward angle. Muscles for days, no longer hidden by the hoodie tied around his waist. Broad shoulders, hunky chest, arms of steel as he held me against him. Possibly the only plus side of wearing the suit, aside from not having to carry its awkward bulk, was the chance it allowed me to watch him without being creepy.
Or, creepier, anyway. The suit did all the work for me in that regard.
“Yeah,you’llbe the one getting a reputation around the complex, Max.”
As if I didn’t already feel guilty enough. There was the guilt fromthe incidentthat had weighed on me for a year, sure, but I’d accruednewguilt. I’d interrupted his Wednesday evening with the whole snake scare, ruined his plans tonight with this donkey fiasco, and now he was carrying me all the way back home. I wasn’t exactly a lightweight.
“Sorry for this,” I said, so softly I wasn’t sure he’d hear it through the donkey head.
“Sorry for what, exactly?” He flashed another smile, a few beads of sweat gathering along his hairline. “Helping a friend out, letting me tag along, or making my weekend a lot more exciting?”
I gulped. That wasn’t at all how I saw the turn of events. “All of them? But mostly roping you into this. And tripping down the stairs in the first place.”
His smile fell and his brows lowered as he fixed me with a stern look. “You don’t have to apologize for choicesImade, Dekker. And you don’t have to apologize for things that are beyond your control.”
I shrugged lamely. “Yeah, but if I’d listened to you and let you carry the suit down the stairs instead, we probably wouldn’t be in this mess. It’s my fault.”
“Maybe, and maybe not. Who’s to sayIwouldn’t have tripped instead? No offense, but I’m a lot bigger than you. I don’t think you would’ve been able to carry me home if the roles were reversed.”
Huh. Well, even if thathadhappened, he was so strong and in such great shape, he probably could’ve hopped home on one leg, easy breezy lemon squeezy. It wouldn’t have been as dire as he made it sound.
A car slowed as it passed, the passenger window rolled down as a guy leaned out of it and wolf-whistled at us. I tensed as adrenaline flooded my system. Max’s hold on me tightened.
