Page 31 of Pinkie Promise

“Uh, hi,” she says, smiling and sounding breathless. Her cheeks are a little pink and she’s got an embarrassed look on her face. For one quick moment I instantly think the worst.She’s hooking up with a guy, right this second.But then she shakes her head and opens the door a centimetre wider, explaining, “Ash had me do a one-on-one cheer session and it overran by, like, seven billion hours. I need five minutes to clean myself up before we can go.”

After a moment of contemplation she decides to open the door all the way and my jaw about hits the floor when I see what she’s wearing.

“You can wait on the couch if you’d like? I can power-shower in three minutes, tops.”

I tear my eyes away from her sweated-up cheerleader outfit and look as far away from her as possible. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll wait on the couch,” I rasp.

I can hear the little smile in her voice when she says, “Hunter, you can look at me you know.”

The one second glance that I got of her before turning quickly away is already seared into my brain for life. I let out a nervous laugh, shoving a hand through my hair as I say, “Fallon–”

“Hunter.”

Something about her sultry tone makes my eyes drop down to hers and I’m instantly aflame as our eyes meet and lock. Getting the green-light from Fallon makes my chest swell and heave, and I take a deep swallow before letting my gaze rake down her body.

It’s so much fucking worse the second time around. Her top is moulded to her chest and her skirt doesn’t even begin to cover her thighs. She wears this shit in public? Other guys are gonna see her high-kicking in this? My body moves forward instinctively and I knock the door shut with my shoulder as I enter her condo, jaw muscles rolling as I take my fill.

“What do you think?” Fallon asks, gesturing vaguely to the condo behind her.

I could not tell you one detail about that condo if I had a gun pointed to my head.

I trudge forward and Fallon back-steps until the backs of her thighs hit the side of her couch. Then I root myself on the spot so that I don’t do anything stupid, inappropriate, or unfuckinghinged.

“It’s a… nice outfit,” I grunt.

“Oh, you like it?” she asks innocently.

My eyes slide up to hers and I see that she’s still smiling. She’s messing with me. She can tell how hot she gets me, and something about that makes her even hotter. I give her ayeah, I’m an idiotgrin and scrub at the back of my neck, dropping my eyes.

“Hilarious,” I say to her. “Go shower and change before I do something stupid.”

“Like what?” she teases, stepping a little closer. My eyes are back on hers, the air between us on fire. My brain knows that she’s just innocently teasing, but tell that to the muscle getting long and heavy in my pants. Every inch of my torso is thrumming with heat, and it gets even worse when she gives me a fucking three-sixty.

I feel my pupils dilate and I drop heavily onto the couch, spreading out my legs and scraping a hand over my mouth.

“Please go and shower,” I manage to say. My eyes are still roaming over her long bare legs and if I stare at her for one more second I’m going to lose my damn mind.

Noticing my fixation Fallon squeezes her thighs together, and I give her a warning look as she looks down at me from her standing position.

“Fallon, please get ready, or I’m gonna take the low-road and ruin the surprise.”

Her eyes sparkle, like this is as new to her as this is to me. “But I’m… enjoying watching you look at me,” she admits, her candid honesty making her sound so damn young.

I bury my head in my hands and mumble, “We’re going to the movies.”

When I spread my fingers over my eyes so that I can look up at her through the gaps she’s watching me with an expression that’s so stunned my heart skips a beat.

“I’ve been… wanting to go to the movies,” she says, her eyes unblinking.

I swallow hard. Yeah, I know that she’s been wanting to go to the movies. I get notifications whenever she puts up one of her Instagram stories, and she keeps on sharing photos from an action flick that’s just been released.

“Yeah,” I say, trying to not sound too much like a stalker.

She stares at me for a long scrutinising moment before saying, “Was it... was it you who followed me from the hockey account?”

Fuck, I wish she had some clothes on. Those soft little thighs are murdering my ability to think straight.

I give her a jerk of my chin and her eyes sparkle brighter.

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