Page 42 of Pinkie Promise

I grimace for him. Fallon’s Instagram photos are the only things keeping my blood pumping right now.

“Whoa,” Tanner says suddenly, his head jerking up. He tips his chin at the door that the guys just went through and says, “Isn’t that yours?”

I glance up, and then I immediately do a double-take. Fallon is standing in the doorway to the rink wearing a baby-blue two-piece. Her blonde hair is spilling over her chest and she has a cheer ribbon pinned at the back of it.

“Jesus Christ,” I murmur as I heave myself up, my eyes running down to the apex of her thighs.

“Does she always wear that stuff?” Tanner asks, his eyebrows raised as he gives her a once-over. Fallon catches my eyes, smiles, and I start skating over to her as I grunt the affirmative. “You need to give her your jersey,” Tanner continues, keeping pace beside me. “Stake a claim.”

“I only have one fucking jersey,” I mumble, quickly shoving a hand through my sweat-soaked fringe. “Where did this idea come from that college hockey players have a billion jerseys to give to their chicks? We play D1 ice hockey, we’re not stocking merch on the NHL website.”

But now that the idea is in my head, Tanner’s right. She needs one.

“You know what, scratch that,” I say. “I’d play shirtless if Fallon would let me put her in my jersey.”

Tanner smirks. “That’s the spirit.”

We slide to a stop in front of Fallon and I subtly gesture at Tanner to fuck off. He gives me a wry look before brushing way too firmly past Fallon.

“Put your guards on, prick,” I shout to him before he damages his blades any further.

He mouthsBensonover his shoulder. I give him my middle finger.

Then I rake my hand through my hair and look down at the angel standing in front of me.

“I was just about to text you,” I admit, my voice hoarse as her eyes meet mine.

“Sorry that I’ve been AWOL,” she says, fidgeting with the gym bag that’s hooked over her small shoulder. Seeing as the last time I saw her we were making out against the wall of her condo I’m having a hard time not closing the gap between us right this second. “There’s just been a lot of stuff going on lately.”

I shake my head and say, “It’s fine, you’re a busy chick. But I had something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Oh?” she asks, smiling a little, and it’s that small hopeful smile that seals the deal.

I unhook the bag from her shoulder and place it down on the ground next to her soft white trainers. The shoulder she had hitched up drops with relief and, after a glance behind me to check that Caden is still occupied, I reach forward to grab Fallon’s waist and I pull her to the threshold of the rink.

She gasps the second that I get my hands on her body and satisfaction overflows like lava in my abdomen. There’s a centimetre of skin peeking between her crop top and her leggings and it’s softer than sin under the rough grip of my palms. I pull her forwards so that her chest is flush against my jersey and she wiggles her hips as she feels my body pressing against her.

“There’s a party at mine on Friday. Tanner’s idea,” I say. “I need you to come, otherwise I’m not going.”

Fallon laughs and, without thinking, I accidentally buck my hips against her. Not gonna lie, seeing as I’ve already got her pinned in place with my palms, we’re standing at the perfect angle for some solid friction.

She grips her hands into the front of my jersey and her eyes flash up to mine, desperate and sparkling.

“My essays–”

“Our door’s open from seven, you can come over anytime. Ten p.m., eleven p.m. – hell, you could pull up in your pyjamas at three in the morning and I ain’t about to kick you out.”

She smiles and shakes her head. “Hunter.”

“I want you there, Fallon. I haven’t seen you in weeks.” I remove one hand from her waist so that it can get lost in those curls. “Unless you’re avoiding me because you’ve got a boyfriend who I need to murder.”

She gives me a naughty look and puts on a sexy voice as she says, “Hunter, I havesomany boyfriends.”

I bite down hard on my bottom lip to stifle thechallenge-acceptedgrin that wants to break free. “You better be joking,” I murmur as I hook my forearm around her ass.

“What are you–?”

Before she can finish her question I heave her up against my chest and push back on my skates so that we’re the only people on the rink.

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