my mind, I’ve followed him out the door. The entire front yard is chaos, blue and yellow lights casting a swirl of color across the front yard. Reyn heads toward the woods, away from the light and noise. He darts ahead, fast, clearly unfamiliar with how much my halting gait holds me back. He vanishes into the tree line, but reemerges instantly, a deep line slashing his forehead.
“Sorry!” I whisper, struggling through the grass, “I can’t—”
He turns, squats and says, “Get on my back.”
A twig snaps and it startles me into action. Despite a gazillion reservations, I steady my hands on his firm, broad shoulders and hop. His hands catch my thighs and hitch me up, and he straightens easily, hooking his arms under my legs.
“Good?” he asks, although he’s already moving.
“Go go go!” I urge and without any more hesitation, he takes off through the woods. He moves just like the athlete he is, steady and sure. The jostling makes me clench my knees around his waist, and when I press my cheek against the side of his neck, his skin is warm and a little clammy. As he darts through the forest, I’m overwhelmed by sensations. The scent of him, soapy, clean, and masculine, fills my lungs. I find myself breathing it in curiously, filing it away. The hard lines of his muscular body shift against me with the raw power of his movement.
Once we’re away from the lights of Elana’s house, he slows, striding quietly through the dark, but he doesn’t release me, and I don’t stop clinging to him. I readjust my grip to something less strangling and he ducks his head, bouncing once to buck me up a little higher.
A different set of lights appear, but these I recognize as our houses in the distance. He spins for a minute, reaching out and touching the trunk of a tree. The treehouse, I realize. He clutches my legs against his sides and I feel his pulse hammering beneath my cheek. His breath comes out in low shudders, his chest heaving from exertion, and there’s a moment when it becomes acutely awkward that I’m still hanging on his back.
I unlatch my hands and slowly slide down the lean slope of his tall body. The chirp of the early fall crickets fills the air, and the lights from our backyard cast far enough back here that we’re not completely swallowed in the dark.
He lets out a low, breathless laugh, collapsing against the trunk of the tree. “And here I thought I was done with ruck marches.”
I watch his chest rise and fall. “Ruck marches?”
He nods breathlessly, leaning forward to rest his hands on his knees. “Ruck marches are... like…” He tilts his head, but the bill of his cap obstructs his eyes. “Travelling a certain distance, in a certain amount of time, with a certain amount of weight strapped to your back. My old school had them twice a year. It’s always a big deal.”
It’s the first time I realize that I don’t actually know much about what Reyn’s life was like, wherever he was. I knew he was in a military academy, of course. Everyone knew that. I’d known about juvie. I’d even known about the week he spent in the hospital, after the accident. But I guess I’d never given it much thought beyond the bare fact of it.
“That sounds terrible.”
“Nah.” He straightens and gives a dismissive wave. “They test you first, build up the weights and the distance depending on your conditioning and endurance. There’s PT for it every week. There are some people in the military that have to do it all the time.”
But Reyn didn’t go to that school because he wanted to be in the military. It was punishment.
Punishment for what he did to me.
He breathlessly adds, “Who knew it’d come in handy, huh?” and smiles at me.
It’s the smile. His eyes still look tired, and he has that same stillness about him, but now his lips are pulled back, revealing both of his dimples.
It kills me.
“Thank you,” I say, having to look away from it, “for getting me out of there.”
“Well,” he says, his voice a slow drawl, “I did owe you one.”
I smile despite myself and I’m glad he can’t see me fully. “Yeah, I guess you did,” I reply, and start down the hill toward our yards. I don’t get far before I feel his hand holding me back.
“You know, you did the right thing tonight.”
I turn to look