Page 40 of Pinkie Promise

His chest is moving in big unsteady pumps when he finally pulls back to look at his handiwork.

“I’m gonna text you, Fallon,” he rasps. “And you’re gonna start replying.”

I’m too weak to laugh properly so instead I breathe out a little wheeze.

“You wish,” I mumble tauntingly, and to my delight he kisses me again.

“You’re so difficult,” he murmurs against me, his tone almost adoring. Then he kisses at my cheeks, his mouth warm and soft.

“Fine, you can take me out again,” I say when he pulls back, saying it like it’s a treat for him.

He grins down at me with that cocky smirk of his and says, “Well, don’t sound too excited about it.”

“Fine, you can take me out again,Captain,” I rectify, and his eyes go from charcoal grey to not-a-single-star-in-the-sky black.

I win this round,I think to myself smugly.

“Are you gonna let me go to sleep now?” I ask him after twenty seconds pass and he’s still nuzzling into my neck, massaging his palms into my body.

I don’t want him to go but I may have read one or two relationship guidebooks, and I know that you’re supposed to keep a guy on his toes.

“Are you gonna post some more photos on your Instagram?” he asks hoarsely, watching his hand as he grips it around my hip.

“Why?” I tease. “You need some new material?”

His deafening silence makes my cheeks turn crimson. He doesn’t meet my eyes as he finally takes his hands off me.

“Okay,” I squeak, my chest pumping even faster than his. “M-maybe I’ll post some more photos on my Instagram.”

Chapter 12

Hunter

We have ten more minutes of practice before we have to vacate the ice, and Benson’s absence from the stands today means that I have to play the role of Coach as well as the role of Captain. We start up a final drill of high-speed puck-passing and by the time that it’s five to the hour the whole team is starting to look borderline nauseous.

“Think I’ve got whiplash in my head,” Tanner groans before throwing up the guard on his helmet and bending at the knees.

“Four more minutes,” I shout to the guys.

“I’m never complaining about Benson again,” Hughes, one of our defence-men, growls after a painful sounding gag.

After two and a half more minutes of back-and-forth sprinting up and down the rink, I take a look at my crawling teammates and decide to call time.

Tanner limps over to me, trudging hard across the ice.

“Motherfucking fuck,” he mumbles, tossing his helmet down next to us. I remove my helmet too and nod at the guys as they make their way to the changing rooms.

Although Tanner is acting like he’s dying I know that it’s just a front for whatever shit is actually going on in his head. If I hadn’t been chosen as this year’s captain then Tanner would have been in the role for the second year running. He’s a machine on the ice when he’s not stressing over chicks.

Our roommate Caden pulls off his gloves and skates over to us, never lifting a blade from the ice. He removes his headgear and shakes out his dark spiky hair.

“You played like the fucking Terminator today,” Tanner acknowledges as Caden stows his helmet under his bicep. Tanner’s eyes then slide over to the one person sitting in the audience and he adds on dryly, “I wonder why.”

Caden rolls his neck and snickers. “You jealous? You’re lucky that I’m even wasting my time over here talking to y’all given the circumstances.”

I glance over to the stands where Caden’s girlfriend from home is sat, her knees tucked up under her chin. Her pink hair matches her flushed cheeks.

“I wanted to make sure that you’ve got the shit ready for this weekend,” Tanner says, puffing out his chest as he crosses his arms in front of his pecs.

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