Page 88 of Pinkie Promise

“Baby,” I murmur, trying to get her to stop sacrificing her shirt for me, but she keeps it firmly in place and then leans up so that she can kiss me.

It’s small and gentle but we’re in an Uber full of guys so the testosterone in this cab has just ascended to a dangerous level.

Tanner clears his throat beside me but I just ram my elbow in his ribs.

The guys are definitely going out tonight.

And Fallon and I are staying in.

Chapter 24

Fallon

Hunter gives Tanner fifteen bucks to pay him back for our portion of the ride and when the Uber pulls up to our destination Hunter clicks open the door and helps me out by my hips.

Gravel kicks up off the road as the Uber drives away, and then it’s just the two of us.

Hunter has his gym bag and my tote over one shoulder, and my body tucked safely underneath his bicep, and he uses the hand that isn’t gently stroking at the front of my throat to pull an o-ring of keys from his front pocket. He twists the key in the lock until we hear theclickand then he pushes the door open, his eyes tentatively dropping to meet mine.

The second that our gazes meet heat begins to spread its way up his throat, all the way to the top of his cheekbones, bringing my attention back to the cut that’s now drying there. Realising that I’m looking at his injury Hunter’s cheeks burn even brighter and he turns his head ever so slightly so that I can’t see as much of the blood.

He leans into the doorframe so that he can flick on one of the inside sconces and then his eyes are back on mine as he jerks his chin in the direction of the house in front of us, soundlessly asking me to look at where we are.

I watch him for a few beats before reluctantly tearing my eyes away from him.

My eyebrows rise as I take in the view in front of me.

It looks like a summer house with exposed walls and beams, and the wooden panelling is stained a warm golden brown. The front door opens pretty much straight into the living room, with the kitchen off to the side and a stairwell at the back, leading presumably up to a bedroom and a bathroom. It’s small and intimate, the furnishings rustic and cosy, and when I look at the untreated wooden floor I see worn away patches which tell me that this house has been very much lived in and very much loved.

I raise my eyes back to Hunter and he’s watching me with a nervous, slightly hopeful look in his eyes.

“What is this place?” I ask him.

I don’t mean for it to come out as a whisper, but in the silence that has fallen around us I don’t want to disturb the peace. The only other sound in the area is a gentle lapping, like water rippling in a creek.

Hunter pushes the key back into his pocket and he looks into the house.

“It’s, uh… I used to come here a lot. I’ll explain but–” His eyes flash back down to mine as he tilts his head towards the interior of the cabin. I breathe slowly, attempting to calm the tingle in my belly at how deep his voice has gone. “You like it? ’Cause if not we can go to the motel or I can book us a–”

I push up onto my tip-toes, cupping Hunter’s jaw in my hands, and I press a kiss against his mouth that immediately has him gripping my waist, making us stumble into the entrance as he shoves the door closed behind us.

He reaches out to turn the lock, showing me that this isn’t his first time in the cosy house, and then he replaces both of his hands on my body, cupping my ribcage in his large palms. His thumbs begin pushing upwards, telling me exactly where he wants them to be touching.

“I need to disinfect the cut,” I murmur as he pulls me up against his chest, making my feet dangle above the floor while he grabs a bottle of something from the small kitchen.

He makes a rough sound in his throat before crashing his mouth back down to mine, his dark hair tickling my forehead as he begins carrying me up the narrow stairs.

“Are you going to let me?” I ask breathlessly as he shucks our bags onto the floor of the landing.

I pull away so that I can look at him and he has an anguished grimace on his face. His eyes stay laser-focused on my lips for a good five seconds before he forces himself to look away and he runs a hand down his stubble.

“I don’t deserve you nurse-maiding me, Fallon.”

There’s something so raw and humble in the way that he says it, making my limbs feel heavy as I press myself against him, that solidifies my need to do just that. To look after him. To be there for him in the way that he seems to have forgotten he was there for me.

I look around the small upper-story corridor, scanning the open doorways for the bathroom, and when I spot it I begin pushing him towards it with one hand, reaching down to pick up his gym bag with the other.

The bag is so damn heavy that I literally topple over.

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