Page 36 of Riding the Sugar High

“No!” she squeals as I reach forward, her body cowering away as her hands sink into the mud.

What the hell?

I study her wide eyes, and the way her shoulders relax once she realizes I’m not going to grab her against her will.

Is she embarrassed? It looks like it, but I don’t get what for.

I turn to Kyle. “Walk away.”

Kyle’s brows quirk, but with a nod, he turns around and walks until he’s out of earshot. Only then do I focus on Primrose. “Well?

She sheepishly glances at me. “What?”

“Why don’t you want me to pick you up?”

She presses her lips tight, and when that doesn’t magically convince me to leave her here to die, she sighs. “I’m too heavy, Logan.”

Too heavy?

I look down at her thighs, smeared with mud all the way to the short skirt of her dress, but that doesn’t help anyone, so I quickly focus on her face again. “You’re not too heavy for Kyle, let alone for me.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, Iam.”

I inhale, my jaw clenching. “So what’s the plan, Barbie? Are you sleeping here?”

“Just help me stand, and I’ll hop to the pickup.”

“You’ll slip on the mud again.”

She shrugs, but then squints into the darkness like she’s trying to measure the distance. “No, I won’t.”

Goddamn stubborn woman.

“Fine.” I stand, then offer her my hand. She pulls herself up on one foot, and even before she can think of hopping anywhere, her one shoe slides forward in the mud, and she shrieks as she falls back.

I manage to let go of her hand and lean forward, wrapping an arm around her back and holding her up before her ass hits the ground. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like the time and place for “I told you so.”

She breathes hard, then looks into my eyes, and our faces are much closer than they should be, because I can smell the scent of strawberry coming off her skin—maybe her lips.

“Thank—”

I circle the backs of her knees with my arm and hoist her up, and with a final shriek for good measure, she settles against my chest.

She gasps. “You?—”

“You’re welcome.”

“You know that’s not what I meant! I told you not to pick me up, that I’m?—”

“Too heavy?” I say as I lift her even higher. I could do lunges carrying her. I could prop her on my back and go about my day and I’d barely even remember she’s there.

Too heavy. Fucking ridiculous.

She sighs and tries to shift away, but I can still detect the blush on her skin—redder than ripe tomatoes. Setting the thought aside for now, I walk to my pickup, and a cat-calling whistle resounds in the distance.

---