Page 11 of Pinkie Promise

I attempt to pretend that I’m not impressed, but truthfully he’s the most attractive man that I have ever seen.

I narrow my eyes on him and bang hard on the glass.

He looks up at me and grins. Rolls down the window.

“Hey,” he says in a deep voice, eyeing me up and down. “Great day for a car wash.”

I try not to shiver as his eyes linger on my cheer top. He gives me a smirk and closes the book resting in his lap.

I take a big swallow. “That’s… that’s my book,” I say thickly, the rain beginning to make my cheeks pinch pink.

He gestures over his big shoulder with his thumb and I notice that his hair is dripping wet, like he’s just had a shower. “Is this what you do? You’re a cheerleader?”

“Please tell me that you didn’t read it,” I continue, my eyes boring a hole through the front cover.

Realising that my attention isn’t on him he tosses the book onto his passenger seat. I make an alarmed sound, fearing that he might crease the pages.

“Why’re you standing over here in a pair of jeans instead of getting suddy with your friends? Is your bit done now? Get in the truck. I’ll take you home.”

My eyes practically roll out of my head. “Absolutely not, stalker. Give me back my book.”

“If I pass it to you now it’ll get ruined in the rain.”

Damn it he’s right. And doesn’t he know it.

He leans back in his seat, pleased, and I try not to stare at his wide abdomen. Then he shifts his belt buckle and I go a little cross-eyed.

“Look,” he says, pulling his car keys out from the slot before holding them through the window like an offering.

I pretend to look down at them but really I’m looking at his hands.

Very, very big.

“Hold onto these for the next three minutes so that you know that I can’t drive off with you. You can get yourself dried in my passenger seat and I’ll give you something to use so that you can wrap up your… uh, porn book.”

I gasp, “That issoinappropriate.”And completely accurate.

Then I scowl, grab the keys from his hand, and round the hood of his truck at a fast clip.

He reaches for the door handle from the inside but I manage to grip it first and pull it open.

I slide inside the truck as he leans back to his side and I shiver dramatically from the sudden surge of heat.

“Did you have the heating on?” I ask absently as I lovingly pick up my book and look around for something to wrap it in. I drop his keys onto the dash as I consider what I could protect my paperback with.

“Here,” he grunts, pulling his jumper off in one fluid rip. “And no. Didn’t have the heating on.”

I stare blankly at the jumper that he’s holding out to me, a little scared by how much warmth seems to be radiating out of it.

“Er, what do you want me to do with that?” I ask.

He pushes it onto my lap and my mind goes blank.

“It’s for your book,” he says, as if giving me his jumper is perfectly normal.

I look up at him and my cheeks begin to burn. Partially because he’s secreting heat like an animal, and partially because he’s so big that he can barely fit in his seat. His biceps are bulging out from the short sleeves of his shirt and his chest is swollen, rising heavily up and down in the confined cabin of his car.

“Nice bow,” he says gruffly, jerking his chin at my hair. Today the cheer squad is wearing last year’s competition ribbons, which are in Carter U’s red and blue colours. “Name’s Hunter, by the way. It’s written there, on the jumper.”

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