Page 12 of Pinkie Promise

He jabs a thick blunt finger at the embroidery that I’ve just uncovered. Underneath his name are the wordsHockey Team Captain.

“You ever been to a hockey game?” he asks, his eyes burning into my skin.

My mind flicks back to him smashing a door into my forehead. “I think that I got a live preview on Monday.”

He immediately winces. “Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he says, shifting in his seat so that he’s fully facing me. “I had no idea that youwere behind that door. How’s your forehead?” he asks, looking anguished. When I don’t respond he continues with, “When I saw that you’d left your book, bringing it back to you was the least that I could do.”

I’m actually amazed that he didn’t burn it. Throwing it at him was not only out of order but it was also completely reckless, a clear indication that my brain has been all over the place recently.

This is why you need to focus harder on getting the arts grant, I remind myself. If I start making headway towards securing another year at Carter U then I won’t have to stress about moving back home. I’ll be able to focus on refining my dream manuscript and giving myself the life that I’ve always wanted.

That’s why I quietly admit, “I… shouldn’t have thrown it at you. Playing karma like that was really dumb.”

When I feel him tense up beside me I give him a fleeting glance. He’s frowning slightly, like I said something that resonates. But then he recomposes his expression and pulls a flyer out of his back pocket, dropping back down to his seat with a low grunt.

“I know it isn’t Halloween yet but there’s this thing that me and the guys are going to next weekend. There’s like a corn maze and stuff.” He breathes out a laugh and his cheeks begin to turn a little ruddy. He swallows hard as he passes me the flyer and says, “I never do this, but I was wondering if… if you’d wanna come. You don’t have to comewithme or anything, but it’d be cool to see you there.” He scratches at the back of his head and adds with a growing grin, “Maybe we’d even get around to you telling me your name.”

I stare at him, speechless, and he gives me a kind of smug eyebrow raise. It reads,how about it, baby?

Did taking the door to the forehead leave me with serious brain damage? Is this an extensively prolonged hallucination? Is this actually happening?

The captain of the Carter Ridge Rangers is asking me out?

“Unless you were already going… which you probably were,” he adds, looking at me a little deeper like he’s trying to push his way into my head.

There’s a whole host of new sensations tingling in my body, and I’m not sure that I want to give any of them the time of day. Behind us outside I can hear the window-muffled sounds of low frat-boy voices and the spray of multiple hoses. The rain isn’t torrential but it’s pattering steadily on the roof and washing the common sense straight out of my head.

Why am I enjoying this guy’s attention? Why am I feelingit deep down in my belly? Now isnota good time for me to get myself a distraction. I should be thinking about research and staff endorsement letters and finding somewhere else to live if Aisling’s parents kick me out of the condo.

“Is this a guilt thing, because of the head injury?” I ask. “Because if it is, don’t worry about it. It happens more often than you’d think.”

If I thought that that would give him the relieved get-out that he needed, I couldn’t have been any further from the truth.

“What does that mean?” he asks, his irises aflame.

I clutch my now-jumper-wrapped book against my stomach, successfully ignoring how warm and soft it feels, and I shake my head at his aghast expression. No time to explain the disastrous end to my show-stopping cheer career.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But–”

I pass the flyer quickly back over to him and scooch on my seat. “My roommate told me about the Halloween night and I would… kinda like to go. I’m not sure if I’ll have the timethough.” I hug my jumper-book a little tighter against my body and Hunter’s eyes flick down to it, his forearms flexing. “I just have a lot on my plate right now.”

I turn to face the passenger door and I’m a little horrified to see that I’ve completely steamed up the window.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low as I turn back to face him. He jerks his chin at me and for some reason it makes me blush. “I understand. I usually work the whole weekend too. But the guys and I have to throw in occasional social sessions so that we have off-rink team-building opportunities. I have to be there.” He holds my gaze for one long, heated moment and then he leans across my body to click open the door. When he notices that I’ve stopped breathing he flashes me his grin again, warm humour returning to his sparkling eyes. “I’ll be looking out for you.”

“Uh…” I stare at him even as he pulls back to his side, studying me so unabashedly that I simply stay still. “I…”

His phone suddenly buzzes on the dashboard and his eyes flick lazily over to it, tipping the screen so that he can deem its worthiness. He checks it for a beat and then throws the device into his glove compartment. I try so hard to not care that dozens of Carter U girls will be hitting Hunter up all day, every day.

But it’s exactly the kind of grounding that I needed.

“Thanks for returning my book,” I say, “even though this is kind of grounds for stalking.”

He flashes me a grin, eyes on my hips as I slip out onto the blacktop.

As I’m about to unceremoniously slam his door shut we both hear a shout of “Yo Hunter!” from behind me, meaning that the frat guys have finally clocked him and are now vying for his attention.

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