Page 83 of Pinkie Promise

Hunter chuckles and scrubs at the back of his neck, his cheeks turning ruddy. He looks around to check that no-one is within hearing distance and then he towers over me and murmurs, “Really?”

I give him a tiny nod and he drops his eyes, smiling shyly.

“Jesus, baby,” he rasps, rubbing his thumbs into my belly.

“After you win, I’ll show you how I use them.”

His eyes burn into mine, his throat muscles rolling, and after a beat he smirks, pressing a firm kiss against my lips. “Baby, I’ve been needin’ you for so long that you won’t be able to hold onto those pom-poms when I finally get my hands on you.”

I let out a whoosh of air, way out of my depth, but then I’m biting back a smile as Hunter gently kisses my cheek.

Hunter Wilde is the most beautiful contradiction I have ever met.

“Carter U?” a voice suddenly calls from the entrance doors to the Larch Peak U rink. “Your team is free to head into the changing rooms now.”

I tense up a little as I glance at the guy in the doorway. He’s kitted out in the home team’s gear, evidently a player on their roster, and he looks kind of pissed off at having been assigned door duty.

The Carter U team eye him with varying levels of unfriendliness as they trudge past him. Some jerk their chin at him but, if anything, that just seems to piss him off more.

Hunter looks completely disinterested.

I try to pull out of his arms and Hunter’s attention snaps back down to me. He realises that we’re going to be separated until his game is over and his hands on my waist immediately tighten.

“I’ll find you straight after the game,” he murmurs, low and husky. I lean up so that he can kiss me and he grunts hard ashe rubs our tongues together. He must feel my slight tremor of nerves about watching him play his crazy brutal sport again because when I pull away he says quietly, “Don’t worry, it’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna win, no problem.”

I nod up at him, trying to hide my little wave of anxiousness. “I know,” I whisper. “You’re amazing, you’re going to win.”

He watches me intensely for a moment and then in the next second he presses his forehead against mine, a move so gentle that I gasp at the contact. Hunter sighs and something painful blooms in my chest. It’s so intimate that it hurts.

“Yo, didn’t you hear me?”

I feel Hunter’s back muscles swell underneath my fingertips, before he turns his head over his shoulder to where the guy on the opposing team is still standing at the door. His arms are folded across his chest and his face is bright red.

He looks like the kind of guy who shotguns a lot of energy drinks.

Hunter lifts up, releasing me from the cage of his chest, and stands to his full height, showing the guy at the door exactly what he’s dealing with. A guy who’s built like a damn monster truck.

Hunter stares at him wordlessly until the other guy scoffs and looks away. Then he turns around to me, his boyish sweetness replaced by the competitiveness of a Division I athlete.

He pulls open his bag, grabs his jumper, and he stuffs it into my arms, a heated look darkening his features. He tips his chin at it and says hoarsely, “Wear that for me during the game.”

I can’t help but think back to the first time that he gave me his jumper, and the fact that he told me that he would find a reason to give it to me again.

Hunter Wilde is a man of his word.

I bite back a smile as I clutch his soft jumper against my chest and then I lean up for one more kiss, showing Hunter exactlywho I’m going to be supporting tonight. He grunts and licks his tongue against mine, once, twice, until my arms are locked tight around his neck and I wish that I never had to let go.

“Okay,” I whisper, nodding as he kisses my cheeks. “I promise.”

Chapter 23

Hunter

It was all going perfect until the last three minutes.

As soon as we got on the ice I clocked Fallon in the box of Carter U supporters, pulling the sleeves of my jumper down over her hands and smiling at something that Caden’s girlfriend was whispering in her ear. I’d also managed to avoid brawling with any of the Larch Peakguys during the first two periods which, considering their play, was fucking altruistic.

Being the home state to one of the best teams in the NHL should mean that they pride themselves on smart strategy and quality players, but whenever we’ve come to face off here that’s never the case. They’re so desperate for a high ranking that their game is dirty, but it had never beenpersonalup until now.

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