Mia struggled to keep up with Zayn’s long strides. It was dark and chilly, and the street was far too quiet for her comfort. She cursed under her breath as she tried to walk in her ridiculously uncomfortable high heels. If only she had known her night would end like this. Zayn, who was a few paces ahead, suddenly stopped and turned toward her. He closed the distance between them, shrugged off his jacket, and wrapped it around her waist. Before she could react, he lifted her effortlessly off the ground and slung her over his shoulder. Mia froze, her eyes widening as if the world had suddenly stopped moving. Finding her voice, she shouted, “What are you doing?!” as she tried to wriggle free from his tight grip. “It’s going to take us forever to get home if you walk at that pace,” he snapped. “Just shut up,” he added tensely, “and let’s get home first.” Her words died in her throat. Silently, she admitted it was better this way—her feet had been moments away from b...