CHAPTER 12 #4
Cam returned to work and the group of students said their goodbyes for the break.
By the time Cam’s shift was over, I had gotten a good chunk of leftover work and grading done – look at me being proactive and responsible – even while being distracted by Cam’s ass in those slacks.
We were currently walking hand in hand across the campus to the arcane building, an eager skip to Cam’s steps.
Hell, who was I kidding? I was practically skipping too.
Early snow had begun dusting the ground over the past few days, covering the tree branches and sidewalks and crunching crisply beneath our matching Converse.
We were each bundled up in our winter coats and scarves, Cam’s head tucked within a black beanie while my wily curls were rapidly accumulating snowflakes.
Once we made it to the large three-story brick building, we eyed the sign above us that read, “Briarwood Mage University Arcane Studies Building.”
Cam made a noise of appreciation. I had no clue why; it wasn’t impressive and looked just like any other university building with its many aged windows and water-stained stones.
We walked up the few steps and reached the set of double doors to the front entrance.
The building was locked seeing as break had begun and campus hours had just ended, so I pulled out my key to unlock the door.
“A key?” Cam asked. “I’m surprised you don’t use something more... magical.”
I gave him a crooked smile, “They’re a little old-fashioned here. Trust me, all the magic happens on the inside.” I then winked at him, earning a grin in return.
We made our way down the halls of polished floors and white walls lined with academic photos and framed papers of groundbreaking findings in arcane studies throughout history.
If there was one thing Briarwood had above most other universities, it was a rich history.
It also possessed a more serious scholarly reputation, unlike Cresthill University where I had attended for both my undergrad and masters. That school had a well-known reputation for being a party school. And they weren’t wrong.
My office was on the third floor, close to the labs, so I led Cam to the stairs as we made our way up.
I was a little winded by the time we reached our destined floor – curse my lazy, unfit body – and I leaned heavily into Cam as I huffed,
“Have I ever told you... how much I hate stairs. No. Not a strong enough word. Despise. I despise them.”
“You hate any form of exercise,” Cam retorted as he clasped my hand. He brought our twined fingers up to his lips as he pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles.
“I cannot refute that statement.”
“If you hate them so much, why don’t you take the elevator?” he asked me. “Is there not one?”
“No, there is,” I replied with a shrug. “But it’s on the other side of the building. Not close to where my office is.”
He gave me a long look as we carried on walking.
“So, you hate stairs but you’re too lazy to go to the other side of the building-”
I cut him off by slapping a palm over his mouth.
“Yeah, yeah Mr. Muscles. I get it. You’re all big and strong. Maybe I’ll start having you carry me everywhere. How do you like them sour apples?”
He pulled us to a stop and glanced around.
The hallway was clearly empty save for us, so I had no idea what he was looking for.
His expression was serious, and I grew slightly nervous.
That was until Cam swooped down, wrapped his arms around my middle, and tossed me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Oof!” I grunted as I was hoisted over Cam’s shoulder, my upper half dangling down his back while my legs squirmed wildly in the air. His shoulder dug into my gut. “Wha- What the hell, Cam?” I wheezed.
Cam shifted me a little, making the position more comfortable. Well, as comfortable as being carried “stolen bridal-style” could possibly be. Which wasn’t much.
“You said you wanted me to carry you everywhere,” he said far too casually as he began walking again. Despite not knowing the way to my office.
I squawked, “I didn’t mean like this!”
I kicked my legs for him to put me down, but he did no such thing. To my utter shock, his big hand reached up and slapped across my left ass cheek.
“Ah! Hey, you jerk-”
He slapped me again, a little harder this time.
I squeaked as laughter began bubbling up. “Camden James Hawkins, you put me down this-”
Another slap.
“Stop spanking me!” There was no heat to my voice, and my laughter only grew louder as he covered my slightly stinging butt with his broad palm and squeezed.
Choosing violence, I reached my hands beneath the waistband of Cam’s jeans, gripped the elastic of his boxers, and pulled, giving him a textbook wedgie.
He jumped and barked out a deep laugh then spun us in a circle, disorienting me. My head was still spinning as he rounded the corner and came to a sudden stop, his laughter fizzling out. I only realized why a second later when I peeked around Cam – still upside-down – and spotted Charlie.
The dean’s assistant, and basically... my boss.