Page 9 of Pinkie Promise

Maybe I took the book to the head harder than I first thought because I should not be getting hot for the chick who just hit me with it.

With her cute nose raised high in the air she makes a little sniff and asks, “Why are you following me?”

I clear my throat hard and glance back over my shoulder. “Why were you standing behind the doors?” I ask, frowning slightly.

She looks up at me over her shoulder.

Her eyes are really pretty.

“Weird way to say ‘sorry’,” she says defiantly, although her voice is softer now.

I take an inhale so deep that my chest brushes against the back of her head. Her eyes widen momentarily, then she picks up the pace of her little speed-walk.

But I’m 6’4”. This is my regular pace.

“I already said that I’m sorry,” I say as I reach around her to push open the next set of doors, gently this time.

My conversation with Benson is still ringing in my ears.You’re a big guy. You could do some serious damage.Maybe this is the kind of shit that he was talking about – my strength transferring in a way that isn’t positive.

I glance down at the girl’s perky bow because, yeah, I am still following her, and my muscles flex in protest when I realise that I could have actually hurt her.

“If there’s anything that I can do–”

She turns on her heel so damn fast that her chest presses flush against my abdomen.

I momentarily go blind.

Hot damn. Not so petite after all.

“You know what you can do, Not Austin?” she says, giving me a cute head tilt that saysI’m the one in control here, sucker. “You can leave me alone, I have stuff to do.”

This time when she spins around and storms away from me I think better of continuing to chase after her, so instead I run a hand through my hair and give it a rough tug as I watch her go. But when I see her check that I’m still here just before she rounds the bend my hands flex by my sides, wishing that I was still right next to her.

My eyebrows rise instinctively at the wounded-kitten look in her eyes.

Hell, did shewantme to keep on chasing after her? If she did, then she had a damn unusual way of showing it. But what do I know – maybe she’s having a rough week.

Her words from a moment ago ricochet through my mind.

Another concussion.

I narrow my eyes. Maybe she’s having areallyrough week.

When she finally looks away from me and struts out of sight I turn around and immediately head back to where we came from. The bottom of the corridor is like a little crime scene, and I scoop down to pick up the book that she’d forgotten in her haste. I flip through the pages until I get to the point that she’s bookmarked. I give it a brief scan and then I move my attention to the bulletin board in front of me.

Suddenly I’m in a really good mood.

I see the wordscheerleadersandcar washand now I know exactly what she was doing behind this door.

So she’s a cheerleader. I can’t help but breathe out a disbelieving laugh because, in all of my years at Carter U, I’ve never met a chick who’s on the cheer squad.

Having a D1 hockey team and a college rink means that the Rangers are meant to have a good connection with the cheerleaders. We have a whole gymnastic mat set-up at the head of the rink which was meant to be where our home girls could do pre-game cheer performances. Show a little home support and get the guys extra pumped.

At almost every college that we’ve travelled to for away games they always have their girls put on a show before we hit the ice, but during all three years that I’ve been at Carter U we’ve never been able to secure them for a game.

I mean, God knows that we’ve tried to get them down to the rink, but the damn D1 football team is hell-bent on keeping them to themselves. The cheer girls have always been too booked up to make it to our games and I haven’t got a doubt in my mind that this year will be exactly the same.

I tuck the paperback under my bicep and pull down one of the flyers from the board.

---