Page 133 of Pinkie Promise

All of the Carter U supporters knew what that meant.

It meant that Hunter Wilde had just become the highest goal scorer in Carter U ice hockey history, and we were here to watch him take that title.

I could barely contain myself as he skated right up to our section yelling,“You see that, baby? Did you fucking see that?!”

And now we’re in the final minute of play, with the Rangers dominating possession of the puck, and my heart is about to burst as the last countdown begins on the screen. Hunter has already scored a third goal during this round but as I watch him whip across the ice I know that he’s going to try and get one more point for Carter U.

Tristan hits the puck towards another Ranger and they all begin flying down to the opponents’ goal, the big screen above the centre of the rink showing that there are thirty seconds left before the tournament is over.

Everyone is pounding on the boards as the Rangers begin passing the puck, before Tanner gets it, raises his stick, and tosses it at lightning speed towards Hunter, who slams it right into the centre of the net.

We’re all screaming, the whole arena on their feet, and the Rangers can’t help but celebrate as the clock moves into the final ten seconds. The audience begins a deafening countdown as thereferee moves the players back into position, even though we already now know exactly who the championship winners are about to be.

“Three! Two! One!”

And as the crowd shouts“one”the final whistle blows, and every Ranger on the ice throws down their helmet, celebrating victoriously as they smash their bodies together. The Carter U substitutes in the booth beside us jump their gate and flood the ice, hurtling over to the rest of the Rangers as we scream our lungs out in the stands.

As the commentator announces the winners of this year’s national championship Hunter’s eyes find mine and I push my body up against the clear board, hands on my cheeks because they hurt so much from smiling.

His eyes are sparkling the brightest that I’ve ever seen them, and he hits me with his signature smirk, making my heart skip a beat.

I have a million things that I want to say to him but the ref rounds up the teams so that they can go through the protocols of handshakes and other formalities before they’re allowed to fully revel in what just happened. So I wait my turn, bouncing up and down with the rest of my squad.

As soon as they’ve gone through all of the red tape and regulations, the Rangers are celebrating all over again, but Hunter tears straight over to the player’s bench on our right, ripping off his gloves so that he can open up the gate beside us.

Once I realise that he’s trying to get to me I squeeze my way through the crowd of squealing cheerleaders until I’m up at the miniature border that separates the stands from the ice, hovering on it like a precipice because I’m pretty sure it would be seen as illicit behaviour if someone from the audience got onto the rink with no blades.

But that doesn’t stop Hunter. The second that I’m within touching distance he grabs me by my hips and hauls me up against him, albeit keeping me dangling over on the audience side of the border, and making me laugh as my feet wiggle above the floor.

“Baby,” he rasps, his voice the most hoarse that I’ve ever heard it. “Baby, I’m sorry, I’ve got so much explaining to do–”

I cup my shaking hands around his stubbled jaw and lean up as high as I can so that I can kiss him.

He groans, long and low, and hunches around me, shielding me from the view of his teammates and those ever-looming ice hockey cameras.

“You don’t have any explaining to do,” I say breathlessly, letting out a little yelp as he yanks me higher up his chest.

This moment – Carter U winning the championship – is incredible and Hunter doesn’t need to apologise for anything.

His eyes drop between us, to where my front is crushed up against his, and his mouth tilts up into a handsome smirk because our outfits completely match.

Then he shakes it off and looks down at me with a serious expression.

“I was really fucking stupid, Fallon. I wanted to help you but I didn’t wanna come on too strong, so I withheld the truth like a goddamn idiot. You told me that you needed to be independent and I still couldn’t stop myself. That’s not okay, Fallon. I don’t expect you to be okay with me doing that.”

I kiss him again and this time he doesn’t hold back, his palms gripping roughly at the back of my thighs as he slides his tongue inside my mouth.

I can’t help but laugh as I realise what he’s doing, pulling back from his firm strokes because I’m about to have a full-on giggle fit.

“What?” he rasps, his expression unbelievably anguished.

I press a few more kisses against his mouth because I can’t believe what’s going on inside of his head right now.

“Hunter,” I finally whisper when I pull back from his beautiful face.

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, burying his face in my neck.

I stroke my fingers through his hair as I whisper, “Did you think that I was about to break up with you or something?”

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