Page 137 of Pinkie Promise

She picked out a small sparkly lilac dress and a pair of matching heels, with sexy ribbon straps that she tied in little bows at the backs of her calves. And now that dress is strewn on the floor next to my suit as the morning light tries to breach the curtains of our soon-to-be bedroom at Larch Peak.

Fallon suddenly lets out a little gasp and I immediately know that she’s remembered what day today is. It’s the day that she’ll receive an email about whether or not her department has awarded her the Master’s grant.

I hold her more firmly against my chest, much to the distress of my rock-hard dick, and I kiss my way down her cheek hoping that she doesn’t start panicking too hard right now.

“Hunter,” she whimpers, trying to hide her face in my neck. She says it in that pained voice that has me knowing she’s stressing.

I’m aware that the only form of praise Fallon received until recently was the kind that she got through high grades and good report cards, so I know that whether or not she gets awardedwith this grant is playing heavily on her sense of self worth right now.

It’s my job to remind her that the opinion of a couple of tutors isn’t worth jack shit in the scheme of things. There’s no telling why one tutor can give a student a particular grade but another tutor could give them the complete opposite, and it’s the same thing when it comes to grant allocation. With sports grants, it’s pretty surface level because your performance shows your skills, plain and simple. But for a grant in the Literature department? It’s subjective as all get out.

It’s like the author thing. There’s no end to the amount of stories you hear about authors being rejected from a hundred publishers, but then as soon as their book gets into the hands of the right readers they’re aNew York Timesbestseller.

Whether or not they give her this grant, I’m going to make sure that I help her achieve her goals. She wants to stay at Carter U for another year? Then she’s going to… even if I selfishly want her to get the grant and then tell me that she’d actually rather move straight to Larch Peak with me instead of doing a year of long distance.

I’ll admit it: in reality, that’s what I want. I want Fallon by my side for good.

I want to start my career at the NHL while Fallon gets to work on writing her book, even though she’s still a little shy about doing it.

But I can do one more year of back-and-forthing to Carter U’s campus, spending my weekends with Fallon before getting back to training or being on the road. I’ll make it work, no problem.

“You’ve got this, baby,” I murmur gruffly, grinding my forehead against hers. “Remember what I told you last night?”

Fallon bites into her lower lip and looks to the side with a contemplative expression, probably thinking less about what I saidto her last night and more about what Ididto her. Her eyesflash up to mine as the memories play behind her irises. Her cheeks get a little warmer as she smiles shyly against my chest.

I swallow hard, trying to stay focused.

“You deserve that grant and if the board has any sense, they’ll give it to you. But it doesn’t matter if they don’t, because if those assholes withhold your funding thenI’llfinance you. You’re doing the Master’s regardless of the grant, so long as you still wanna do it, baby. I’ll give you that cash.”

Fallon squishes her body even harder against mine and my brain blanks out like a television in a thunderstorm. I immediately shove my body on top of hers and then we’re kissing in a hot hungry frenzy.

“I would never, ever, ever, ever ask that of you,” she pants breathlessly as I begin palming at her breasts. It’s taking every ounce of my self-control to not push inside of her right now.

“I know you wouldn’t,” I murmur, “but as soon as my paperwork is signed, I’m gonna be able to afford it. Your studies. This house. A little closet full of sexy lilac underwear.”

She breathes out a tinkling laugh and I fucking pre-come on her belly.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” I choke out, sitting up on one elbow, grabbing a Kleenex from the nightstand, and using it to gently rub it off of her.

She’s still giggling as I toss the tissue to the floor so, even though my face is crimson, I smile back at her, at least relieved that I’m managing to distract her a little.

“You’d really get me a little closet just for my lilac panties?” she asks me teasingly.

I roll onto my back, tucking my hands behind my head. “Fallon, I’llbuildyou a closet just for your lilac panties.”

I remove one of my arms from its position against the pillow and I use it to hug Fallon against my side, knowing that I’mprobably going to need to give her a bit of space right now while she checks her emails for the results.

“Want me to stay here?” I ask, rubbing my thumb into her shoulder. “Or do you want me to go downstairs and make you some breakfast while you… you know.”

I don’t want to mention the g-word –grant– anymore so I just tip my chin in the direction of her phone.

She climbs on top of me and gives me a little kiss. I palm her breasts in my hands and try not to groan too loudly.

“I need… five minutes,” she whispers, and I nod even though I’m barely breathing.

She slips off of me and I stay on my back, panting for a couple seconds, before pushing the sheets off and getting heavily to my feet. I can’t help but give myself a few tight pumps before shoving my legs back inside my suit pants, kissing Fallon on her cheek, and then exhaling shakily as I make my way down to the kitchen.

Five seconds later there’s a loud crash and pounding footsteps.

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