13. Piggyback
13
Piggyback
Harvey bent at the knees, his hands out behind him almost like he was curtseying as he drolly offered me his back. “Your chariot, m’lady.”
I bit back a squeal. This was really happening.
I looped my arms around his neck and hopped up as he hooked his arms under my knees. The world was even more exciting from up here, especially this close to Harvey. I wiggled my feet with glee.
“Careful.” He hoisted me higher and my stomach swooped. “Now, which one is your car?” he asked.
I rocked to the side to point over his shoulder. “That igloo under the lamppost.”
He grunted.
I leaned over to study his face. “Are you okay? Am I too heavy?”
He huffed a laugh. “You’re great, just stop squirming.”
My numbing nose brushed against the edge of his cap and hair as I settled into a comfortable position. The scent combo of cinnamon and coffee was intoxicating. “I wish you could carry me tomorrow, too. I have the morning shift.”
“After closing? That sucks. Are you going straight to bed, then?”
I hugged him close, imagining if we laid together like this. “I don’t know. Will I be in trouble if I don’t?”
"Maybe." His fingers flexed into the underside of my thighs, which instinctively made me squeeze him between them.
My heart pounded louder than the drummer boy. Was slipping in the snow and running into Harvey some sign from the universe? I hugged him tighter. “I feel like I should do something fun so I’m not just in ‘Sugarplum’ mode for forty-eight hours straight.”
“Like what?” he asked, his voice husky from work.
“I don’t know. Watch TV?” My toes curled at my own suggestion. It wasn’t technically an invitation, but it could be.
The warmth of his breath tickled my hands. “Sounds good to me.”
Did that mean he’d want to join me?
Harvey turned his head, offering me a sheepish smile. “Hey, uh, I can’t believe I’m asking so late in the game, but what’s your real name?”
The answer caught in my throat. Was this a game? Despite all my pining and our shared breaks, I didn’t really know Harvey. But he was nice enough to carry me through a parking lot and give me cookies. He guarded me from the perils of snowplows. He liked me. He respected me, so I told him my real name. “Shelby. But you can still call me ‘Sugarplum’ when we’re at the mall. It sounds more festive.” I flexed my toes, half expecting a bell to chime.
“I like Shelby," he said.
Ahhh, he liked me!
“Sugarplum does suit you, though. A vision dancing over our heads and into the shop. Or wiping out in the parking lot.” He jokingly dropped me half an inch only to hoist me higher on his back.
Laughing, I scrambled to hug him tighter. “I can’t help it. It’s icy.”
“I know. And it’s always nice to see you.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sure you look forward to getting caffeinated and spending half your paycheck on our snacks. Retail can be a vicious cycle.”
I pressed my cheek to his shoulder. “Yeah, but moments like this aren’t so bad.”
“No.” He hugged my legs. “These aren’t so bad.”
I closed my eyes and absorbed his warmth, wishing I could hold onto this moment forever.
Harvey turned his head. “Hey, Shelby, er, Sugarplum? Do you want to–” He slipped so fast I barely had time to tighten my grip on his shoulders. He twisted to take the brunt of the fall himself, one arm out, though my knee smashed into the pavement.
I let out a little cry.
Cursing, he rolled over. “I’m so sorry, are you okay?”
“I could ask you the same question.” I checked out his red, skinned palm, then gently pressed some snow into it.
His breath caught.
“Is this okay?” I asked.
“Yeah.” After a second, he chuckled. “I’m still not going to throw a snowball at you.”
“You don’t want revenge?” I grinned.
“No, I think we’re good at this point.” He wiped his brow, which was shiny with sweat. Carrying me down the aisle after a full day of work must’ve been quite the effort.
“We need a less strenuous activity after a full day of working.” I pushed to my feet and took his hand. “Come on, I'll help so you don’t fall.”
“It’s a little too late for that,” he mumbled sheepishly, threading his fingers through mine.
I pulled him up, both of us nearly slipping in the process. He cursed, then joined in my laughter. We were going to be fine. Strangely, his nervous shuffle and sidelong glances gave me more confidence. He was an awfully cute grinch.
Once we got to my snow-covered car, I started the engine, which wheezed repeatedly before catching.
“Is your car okay?” Harvey asked, marching to the exhaust pipe.
“It just needs to warm up. Like us.” I almost smacked myself for the double entendre. “Let me get my brush.” I leaned over the back console. A burst of light through the back made me squeal in surprise, and I slammed back so hard I almost hit the horn.
Outside, Harvey waved through the back windshield. He was using his arm to clear the snow for me!
Laughing, I scrambled out with the brush. “Wow, impressive reach.”
He popped his jacket collar. “Thanks, so few people notice.”
I dusted the powder from his arm. Parking lot flood lights sparkled off the snow and reflected in his eyes. I hadn’t had this much fun in forever. We flirted and brushed off the car until all the windows were clear.
I double-clicked the unlock button on my key fob. “You carried me across the parking lot, so I’ll drive to your car.”
He stuck his hands in his pockets and shuffled to the passenger’s side. “You don’t have to do anything.”
“I want to." I wanted to do a lot of things. "Where are you parked?” I asked before my mind could run away with a fantasy.
“About two rows over.” A few seconds after we started the drive, he glanced at my back seat and laughed. “What’s this?”
Oh. Oh no. The blanket must have fallen off my personal comfort stash when I went to get my brush.
My hands shook as I turned the vents towards him. “Just some stuff. The penguin is Mr. Waddles.”
“Is that a famous character?” Harvey leaned further back, sending my heartrate soaring. “You’ve got coloring books and a sippy cup. Do you babysit or something?”
“Sometimes.” Not really. I rocked in my seat and flexed my hands around the steering wheel. “They also help me.”
“How?” he asked skeptically.
Maybe he wasn’t ready to learn more about me. But would anybody outside of an online forum?
I took a deep breath and tried to focus on driving, blinking through the prick of nervous tears. People found my 'headspace' sweet at best, revolting at worst.
But we only had a few weeks left before the end of the season. I might never have to see Harvey again. So far, he’d found all my idiosyncrasies charming. He played in the snow. He gave me a piggyback ride, free cookies, and drawings. He obviously cared about me to some degree. Maybe he would still like me.
“They help me relax,” I said, raising a shoulder in half-apology.
Harvey laughed.
But it wasn’t funny. Not to me.
Pressing his body against the door, he stared at me. “Wait, are you being serious?”
Part of me wanted to backtrack and enjoy the night, dancing around the truth of who I was, watching TV together for at least one more great memory. But I didn’t want to lie. Or goad him into liking me only to break both our hearts if he hated such an integral part of what made me happy.
My throat tightened around the admission: “I like being ‘Little.’ It’s comforting.”
“Oh.” He curled his fists in his lap. “I’m sorry.”
For what, though? Sorry he laughed? Sorry I’m not the girl of his dreams? Sorry we can’t watch TV? He obviously knew what ‘Little’ meant: someone who acted younger than they were, almost like a vulnerable, emotional alter ego. But would he want to date or 'Daddy' anyone like me? Would he still be friendly?
Harvey unbuckled his seatbelt before the car fully stopped moving. “Don’t worry about helping me brush off the car. I should get going.”
Oh no. Peppermint-flavored bile flooded my throat. I parked one spot over from him. “Harvey–”
“It’s late.” He tugged his cap down and avoided my gaze. “We’ve both had a long day. I’ll see you around, okay?” He got out and closed the door, my rickety old car lurching from the impact.
Static pulsed in my chest, pinning me to my seat.
I wasn’t sure if I should explain or leave, be devastated or angry. He didn’t know me. We didn’t owe each other explanations, time, judgments, or treats.
But he liked me. He liked me until he got to know about my blankie.
If I was better behaved, or sexier, or funnier, or more grown-up, maybe…
No. It wasn’t meant to be.
I had to be me .
I did my taxes. I drove. I bought my own groceries. I had responsibilities.
I still did grown-up things, and Harvey could do a lot of them with me. We had so much fun. We could be amazing.
But not if he was uncomfortable with Little things. Age play wasn’t for everybody, even if they weren’t actively participating. And that was fine. I wasn’t a freak. He wasn’t mean. This was about compatibility.
Shuddering through shaky breaths, I curled forward so my hair would cover my face, then pretended to look at my phone as I wiped my wet, stinging eyes. Just a few more seconds and I’d be good enough to drive.
Everything would be fine.
My crush didn't like me. Yeah, it was disappointing. But I didn’t need him. Or my blankie. Or anyone who’d judge me.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t tell anybody about the secrets I kept in the back seat.
Windshield wipers squeaked.
I blinked, willing everything to stop being blurry so I could drive away, leaving Harvey and all my stupid hopes and dreams behind me.