Page 45 of Pinkie Promise

Instinctively her eyes find Tanner in his splayed position on the armchair and she pauses for a second before rolling her eyes. Although this time I think that it’s more to do with the fact that Whitney, my replacement top-of-the-pyramid cheer flyer, is sat squished up beside him with her legs draped over his lap. She’s talking animatedly and waving a red Solo cup around but Tanner’s eyes are on us, his expression one of shock and horror.

I get a look at Aisling’s expression and immediately begin pushing her in the direction of the balcony to get her as far away from Tanner as possible, but Tanner has already shoved himself out of the armchair and is storming our way.

Tanner jumps over a small living room cabinet and I squeak in fear as he broaches the distance towards us before I can lock us both outside. His fingers grip the handle on the other side of the balcony door and I stare at him wide-eyed, not sure what to do next.

Ash is busy sipping champagne and ignoring Tanner, and Tanner’s eyes are flicking wildly between the two of us.

“I wanna talk to her,” he calls to me from the other side of the glass.

Aisling lets out a tiny huff.

A new song starts up on the speakers inside of the apartment and it sounds soft and muffled through the planes of the door.

“Move out of the way, Fallon. I’m opening this door and I don’t wanna hurt you.”

I’ve had enough door related injuries for one year so I release my fingers from the handle and Tanner immediately eases it open. As soon as he’s outside he stares down at me for one heavy moment. Aisling is sizzling with energy and I can feel it heating up my shoulders.

“I’ll take it from here,” Tanner says, eyes sliding over my head so that he can look at my roommate.

Aisling rolls her eyes. “Leave me alone, Viking, or I’ll pour champagne all over you.”

A tender look touches his eyes, as if he’d love to be drenched in champagne at the hand of Aisling, and he steps around me.

The balcony door is still open and I take a tentative step backwards, closer to the interior of the house. I’m not one hundred percent sure what’s going on between Ash and Tanner, but whatever it is feels too private for me to witness. Since Aisling isn’t asking me to stay I feel like it’s my cue to leave. I’m about to take another quiet step back into the living area when I suddenly feel a solid mass behind me and two big forearms envelop my exposed clavicle.

“You came,” Hunter murmurs, a smile in his voice as he kisses my cheek.

His large chest is pressing heavily into my back and his pumped muscles feel swollen and warm. Actually, he’stoowarm– warmer than someone would typically feel through their clothing.

I spin around in his arms and find myself face to face with his naked torso.

“Oh,” I squeak, my strength immediately draining from my body. His skin is richly tanned, as if he’s spent the past seven summers working shirtless outside, and he’s glistening with water droplets as if he’s been sweating it up all night. His large hockey-player pecs are heaving right in front of me, and there’s a sexy trail of hair leading down his muscled naval. It disappears tauntingly beneath the band of his grey joggers.

“Just got out of the shower,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

I shake my head, speechless, and he whips the towel from around his neck so that he can leash it around my lower back, yanking me towards him so that my chest is flush against his. He smirks as he walks us backwards, pulling me away from the darkness of the tiny balcony and into the warm glow of the loud apartment.

I can’t help but notice Whitney staring intently through the balcony door.

“You want a drink?” Hunter asks, pulling my focus back up to his beautiful face. His eyes are slowly raking down my outfit as he murmurs, “You look so beautiful.”

I feel my neck flush and Hunter swipes his tongue over his lower lip.

“Let’s go to my room,” he murmurs, dropping the towel from behind my back and tossing it into a deserted corner. His hands take my waist and he gives me a firm squeeze.

“You didn’t bring any of your other boyfriends did you?” he asks teasingly.

“Oh, I forgot that I wasn’t supposed to, sorry,” I say, biting back a smile of my own.

He grunts and squeezes me harder. “Damn baby. I’ll forgive you, but only because I know you wore this outfit for me.”

In the next second my behind hits off something hard. I twist slightly and realise that Hunter has walked us to his bedroom door, one hand leaving my waist so that he can click the handle open. He presses into me with his bare chest and I stumble backwards, his palm keeping me steady.

“Wasn’t sure that you would come,” he murmurs as he closes the door behind us, before sliding both hands gently around the sides of my throat. “Thought you might be busy.”

“With my boyfriends,” I say, and he gives me that smug masculine grin of his.

“Yeah,” he grunts, hunching down so that he can press his face into the warm hollow at the base of my throat. He takes a deep inhale and groans, “Fallon, you smell so good.”

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