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"Why not? I can't go home. Julian and Piper are probably already doing things I don't want to hear."
I have to bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing. Those things he's referring to, we've done those. We've been the ones making noise in his apartment. Thankfully, Julian hasn't been home to hear them. I can only imagine attempting to sleep with those sounds coming from a room down the hall.
"You can't stay out here all night."
Brady shrugs as he hops off his bike before lifting me off with ease. Taking my hand in his, Brady starts down the dirt path that leads to the campus pond. Two steps on the rocky path and I practically fall on my face, my heel getting caught on something and propelling me forward.
Brady keeps me from falling, but that doesn't stop him from laughing.
"You try walking in heels this high," I state as I smack him across the chest, my hand stinging as it connects with solid muscle.
Without saying a word, Brady picks me up and swings me onto his back, wrapping my legs around his waist.
"Better?" he asks after we get a few paces down the winding path, his bike disappearing from view.
"I could have just taken my shoes off."
"Or I could carry you."
"Which is what you're doing."
"I know. I like it."
Smirking to myself, I roll my eyes at Brady, even though I know he can't see me.
Brady bypasses the first bench we come to, then the second. We're halfway around the pond before he finally stops, releasing his grip on my thighs so I can slide down his back.
"There's nowhere to sit," I point out as I turn in a circle.
Brady motions to a grassy area under an oak tree. The branches of the tree are almost bare, the leaves littering the ground beneath, reminding me that fall is almost over, and winter will be here before I’m ready. Watching the leaves change colors is beautiful, but the drastic shift in temperature from summer to winter, with a hint of fall in between, is less than appealing. There has to be somewhere in the world that's the perfect temperature all-year round. And when I find that place, I'm going to pack my bags and be on the next flight out of Michigan.
Taking a seat on a small pile of leaves, Brady pats the space between his legs. I don't hesitate, and soon Brady's arms are wrapped around me, holding me close, warming me from the inside out. My heart is beating a steady rhythm for the first time in a week, and I let out a sigh.
"Are you ready to talk to me now?" His voice cuts through the comfortable silence that has settled around us as I stare out at the still water of the pond.
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Well, you seemed adamant that you wouldn't be here, in my arms, anymore, when you walked away from me last week. Yet here we are. And that's not a complaint; it's a fact."
"I also said I couldn't meet you for coffee because I was weak and knew I would bend to your will. Please don't ask me for more than this."
What I really want to tell him is to ask me for everything. Because I would willingly give it to him.
But I don't. I'm a coward, and I care about him enough to spare him heartache in the future.
Tonight, though, I was weak. I sought him out when I shouldn't have. I chased him after pushing him away. I'm listening to my heart instead of my head. And my heart yearns for his.
"I'm not going to ask you to do anything but listen."
"I can do that." I think.
Brady clears his throat, letting out a sigh. My body tenses with anticipation. I can feel his nerves radiating off him in waves. It's a new feeling. He always comes across as confident and in control. Right now, he's anything but. I don't need to turn around and look at him to know that. I'm in tune with his body language.
"When I was ten, I drowned. I was dead for seven minutes."
Acting on instinct, I turn in his embrace and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him close. "I'm so—"
"Don't say sorry."
