Page 6 of Pinkie Promise

“We can give you cash, Fallon–”

I shake my head as I begin attempting to slip my laptop into my tote. Connell and Ash are the only people who I’ve confided in about my money troubles and, as lovely as he is, I know that he doesn’t get it. I’veearnedeverything that I’ve ever gotten and I refuse to rely on anyone to get to where I need to be. “I’m not taking your parents’ money.”

“But–”

I glance at him over my shoulder and take in the sight of him. His strong jaw and golden hair, his eyes authoritative and commanding.

The face of a man who has all the money in the world.

“Connell, it’s okay. I trust you and Ash with my life but I don’t want to be in your debt, if I can help it. There’s no way that I’m going back to living with my parents but, even if I don’t get that grant, I’m going to claw my way to getting that money. I’m not taking your charity just because I’m, like, some sort of pet to you.”

Connell hums low and thoughtful above my head, pressing the elevator button in the dark ruby hallway.

“Okay,” he says, his voice quiet and deep. I know that he hates it when I talk about money but I don’t want to lie to him just so that he can think that everyone has his level of privilege. He scratches at the back of his head, probably trying to calculate how little I have in my bank account if I can’t afford one more year of college tuition. “If you wanna go forward with this grant thing then fine,” he finishes, walking us into the elevator andthen settling into silence as we ride down to the luxury garage in the basement.

When the doors slide open we head over to his car and we both slip inside without saying anything.

Once I’m buckled up I wait for him to kick the engine to life but instead he rubs his fingers over the gear stick, obviously contemplating something. I roll my eyes at hiscan’t handle the truth about moneyrich boy confusion and I brush invisible lint off my skirt, crossing my legs just for something to do.

He looks briefly in the rear view mirror, checking that we’re alone, and then his eyes move to mine, burning with that look that he sometimes gets when it’s just the two of us. I raise my eyebrows at him, sayinguh, can I help you?

Connell’s eyes catch on the bow in my hair and he reaches across to tweak it. Then he settles his arm around the back of my headrest, eyes on my lips, my little jumper, and then finally on the short hem of my skirt.

Then they’re back on mine.

He swipes his tongue over his lower lip and makes a low sound in the back of his throat.

“My football practice doesn’t start for another thirty minutes,” he says gruffly, splaying his thighs a little so that I can’t help but notice the size of them. “You wanna, uh… wanna make out?”

Okay, so maybe the whole this-is-a-platonic-friendship thing is a little one-sided. But I know that Connell doesn’t do it with bad intentions: he really is justthathorny all of the time. I’m sure that he does this with all of the girls that he gives rides to, only they’re probably more hormonally sound than I am and they probably actually take him up on his very generous offer.

I lean over the stick shift and Connell’s eyes widen slightly, blinking quickly as I reach an arm around his abdomen.Knowing that I never do anything with anyone, Connell is suddenly breathing like he’s in the middle of doing cardio.

“Connell,” I whisper, smiling up at him.

“Yeah?” he grunts, his hands gripping into his seat.

I rip the flyers from his pocket and he groans in disappointment when I smack them hard across the expansive breadth of his chest.

I throw myself back against my headrest and I give him a wily grin of my own.

“Nice try, quarterback. Now shut up and drive.”

Chapter 2

Hunter

I study Coach Benson from across the office desk, a dark expression on his face as he looks at his page of notes.

His right hand is going for broke on a little stress ball that’s shaped like a hockey puck.

Doesn’t bode well for me.

“Right,” he says, dropping the stack of papers and pinching roughly at the bridge of his nose.

In the three seconds that he keeps his eyes squeezed shut I take a glance down at what he was reading and deduce the fact that they’re notes from the first ‘friendly’ game of this semester. I know this because there are a lot of words like‘NO’and‘FUCK’and‘SHIT’written on it. During the game, the team and I were too busy winning to realise that Benson had suddenly lost ten years off his life, but straightafterthe game when we went to the locker room for our debrief the whole team took the bollocking of the century.

Now it’s time for our one-on-ones.

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