I rap a fist against the door and then tuck my hands into the pockets of my jeans.
Fallon buzzed me into the building and now I’m waiting outside of her condo, heart thumping fast in anticipation of our first date.
The door opens up a crack and Fallon peeks around the door.
“Uh, hi,” she says, smiling and sounding breathless. Her cheeks are a little pink and she’s got an embarrassed look on her face. For one quick moment I instantly think the worst. She’s hooking up with a guy, right this second. But then she shakes her head and opens the door a centimetre wider, explaining, “Ash had me do a one-on-one cheer session and it overran by, like, seven billion hours. I need five minutes to clean myself up before we can go.”
After a moment of contemplation she decides to open the door all the way and my jaw about hits the floor when I see what she’s wearing.
“You can wait on the couch if you’d like? I can power-shower in three minutes, tops.”
I tear my eyes away from her sweated-up cheerleader outfit and look as far away from her as possible. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll wait on the couch,” I rasp.
I can hear the little smile in her voice when she says, “Hunter, you can look at me you know.”
The one second glance that I got of her before turning quickly away is already seared into my brain for life. I let out a nervous laugh, shoving a hand through my hair as I say, “Fallon–”
“Hunter.”
Something about her sultry tone makes my eyes drop down to hers and I’m instantly aflame as our eyes meet and lock. Getting the green-light from Fallon makes my chest swell and heave, and I take a deep swallow before letting my gaze rake down her body.
It’s so much fucking worse the second time around. Her top is moulded to her chest and her skirt doesn’t even begin to cover her thighs. She wears this shit in public? Other guys are gonna see her high-kicking in this? My body moves forward instinctively and I knock the door shut with my shoulder as I enter her condo, jaw muscles rolling as I take my fill.
“What do you think?” Fallon asks, gesturing vaguely to the condo behind her.
I could not tell you one detail about that condo if I had a gun pointed to my head.
I trudge forward and Fallon back-steps until the backs of her thighs hit the side of her couch. Then I root myself on the spot so that I don’t do anything stupid, inappropriate, or unfuckinghinged.
“It’s a… nice outfit,” I grunt.
“Oh, you like it?” she asks innocently.
My eyes slide up to hers and I see that she’s still smiling. She’s messing with me. She can tell how hot she gets me, and something about that makes her even hotter. I give her a yeah, I’m an idiot grin and scrub at the back of my neck, dropping my eyes.
“Hilarious,” I say to her. “Go shower and change before I do something stupid.”
“Like what?” she teases, stepping a little closer. My eyes are back on hers, the air between us on fire. My brain knows that she’s just innocently teasing, but tell that to the muscle getting long and heavy in my pants. Every inch of my torso is thrumming with heat, and it gets even worse when she gives me a fucking three-sixty.
I feel my pupils dilate and I drop heavily onto the couch, spreading out my legs and scraping a hand over my mouth.
“Please go and shower,” I manage to say. My eyes are still roaming over her long bare legs and if I stare at her for one more second I’m going to lose my damn mind.
Noticing my fixation Fallon squeezes her thighs together, and I give her a warning look as she looks down at me from her standing position.
“Fallon, please get ready, or I’m gonna take the low-road and ruin the surprise.”
Her eyes sparkle, like this is as new to her as this is to me. “But I’m… enjoying watching you look at me,” she admits, her candid honesty making her sound so damn young.
I bury my head in my hands and mumble, “We’re going to the movies.”
When I spread my fingers over my eyes so that I can look up at her through the gaps she’s watching me with an expression that’s so stunned my heart skips a beat.
“I’ve been… wanting to go to the movies,” she says, her eyes unblinking.
I swallow hard. Yeah, I know that she’s been wanting to go to the movies. I get notifications whenever she puts up one of her Instagram stories, and she keeps on sharing photos from an action flick that’s just been released.
“Yeah,” I say, trying to not sound too much like a stalker.
She stares at me for a long scrutinising moment before saying, “Was it… was it you who followed me from the hockey account?”
Fuck, I wish she had some clothes on. Those soft little thighs are murdering my ability to think straight.
I give her a jerk of my chin and her eyes sparkle brighter.
“You liked every single one of my Instagram photos,” she breathes.
I nod again. “Yeah. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”
She laughs and cocks her head to the side. “What d’you mean?”
“Like, when you see a picture that you like, you click the heart. I’ve never had the app before but it seems pretty obvious to me.”
She raises her eyebrows and says, “You downloaded Instagram so that you could follow me?”
God, this room is warm. “Yeah,” I say gruffly. “I did.”
I can tell that she’s pleased from the lip-biting smile that she’s giving me. “Which picture was your favourite?”
Not exactly gonna tell her that I like the one where she’s flat on her back and I can see the outlines of her nipples. Instead I clear my throat and say, “They’re all… really fuckin’ nice.”
She narrows her eyes playfully, still smiling. “Hmm, no, I think you’ll have a favourite. Don’t worry though, I’ll get it out of you.”
I spread my thighs wider on the couch. You’ve been doing that, alright.
I tug at the collar of my shirt, trying to angle the subject of this conversation away from my extracurriculars with Fallon’s Instagram. “Okay, I’m giving you four minutes or I’m gonna have to drag you out of here dressed like that.”
“Why four minutes?” she pouts. “I told you I needed five.”
“Your skirt just annihilated ten years off my life, Fallon. I don’t have time to waste.”
She breathes out a laugh and mock-groans, “Fine.”
I watch her bare feet pad across the floor, catching her eyes again before she closes the door to the bathroom.
I immediately throw my shoulders against the back of the couch, shoving one fist in my mouth and the other down to the front of my jeans. I fumble with my belt buckle and quickly flick the top button on my pants. My fingers breach the waistband and I slide my palm under my boxers, grunting hard into my fist as I grip the solid root of my cock. It’s borderline impossible to jack off when you’re being constricted by two layers of clothing but God loves a fucking tryer so I give it my best shot. Just enough to take the edge off sitting shoulder to shoulder with Fallon in a dark confined space for the next two hours.
I tighten my hold on my shaft and give it three fast tugs, my jaw bunching hard as a spurt of moisture shoots out of the tip. I swipe it quickly with my palm and then stroke it down my length.
Then I hear the shower spray begin to pound and I almost come on the damn spot.
I remove my left fist from my mouth and grip it into the top of Fallon’s sofa, although I keep my other hand in my boxers to try and alleviate the deep pulsing ache.
After one godforsaken minute I decide that staring like a serial killer at Fallon’s bathroom door isn’t helping my cock come down from its high, so I slowly extract my palm from my pants and begin buttoning myself back up.
She’s naked in the shower right now. Her hot slick body is dripping with warm water.
The cords in my neck tighten as I slide my belt back into place and then I lumber stiffly to her kitchen, bracing my palms flat on her counter.
Did she even lock the bathroom door?
It’s none of my business. NONE of my goddamn business.
Seven and a half minutes later Fallon is breezing out of her bathroom with a big towel wrapped around her body, and she’s slipping soundlessly into her bedroom without meeting my eyes. I white-knuckle her kitchen counter for the next fifty seconds while hearing the sounds of drawers opening and zippers closing, and then she quietly exits her bedroom in a cute knit jumper and a pair of ass-hugging jeans. She has the scarf that she wore to the game around her neck and her hair is down, reaching just below her waist.
“I brought my truck,” I tell her as I carefully manoeuvre my body back around the counter, and she nods her head at me as she pulls her key from her jeans pocket. I trail my eyes down her body while she locks up the condo and then I decide that it’s for the best if I just don’t look at her for the rest of the night. How the hell is she still getting me going when she’s covered from neck to ankle?
“Do I get to twenty-one questions you while you drive us to the movies?” she asks.
Something poker hot strikes in my abs when she uses the word ‘us’. I follow behind her as she walks towards the elevator and she gives me an encouraging smile over her shoulder when my silence breaches the ten-second mark.
I clear my throat hard. She can do whatever the hell she wants to me while I drive.
“Yeah,” I say as we descend to the ground floor, the elevator going at lightning speed. “This building’s fucking insane.”
Fallon remains quiet for a beat and then, as we step out into the lobby, she says, “My roommate’s family owns the whole complex. I, um… I don’t pay rent.” Then she shakes her head and quickly adds on, “Of course, when I finally get a long-term job I will absolutely give them the money that I owe them. They haven’t asked me to, but I have this really big thing about paving my own way.”
I reach around her to shove the door open as she scans her key-fob against the electric lock.
The more time that I spend with Fallon the more evident it becomes that money is a real issue for her. I’m not sure how she’s made her way through college, and I’m even more concerned about what she’s going to do after she graduates.
“Is that why you’ve been looking for a job? To pay back your rent?” I ask her.
She lets out an embarrassed laugh and says, “That’s actually so that I can stay on at Carter U for another year. I know that working a Sunday job won’t pay for a Master’s, but it’s more about amassing cash in case I don’t get the grant that I’m applying for. All grants are really hard to get and I literally don’t know what I’ll do with my life if I don’t secure one. I guess getting a loan, but I’m not exactly crazy on that idea.”
I unlock my truck when we reach it and I pull the passenger door open for her.
She looks at the interior of the cab and says wistfully to the passenger seat, “We meet again.”
I breathe out a laugh, glad that her spirits have lifted now that we’re at my truck. I close the door gently once she’s tucked her legs inside and then I round the hood to the driver’s door and hunch down under the roof. I shut the door after myself and click the belt into the mechanism.
I kick the truck to life and battle with myself about whether or not I should push her further. I settle on asking one more question and then vowing with myself to mind my goddamn business.
“What about your parents? Can’t they help?” I ask, and instantly I feel her body stiffen at my side. Right. So there’s my answer to that question.
When we approach the red light I glance over at her and she gives me a little nose scrunch.
That nose scrunch speaks a thousand words. She doesn’t want to talk about it, which means that, whatever the situation is, it isn’t good.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” I admit, my tone low as I ease the truck back up to speed. “I won’t ask any other shit like that.”
“It’s fine,” she says on the weariest sigh that I’ve ever heard. “Maybe it’s good that you know. At least it explains why my emotions have been all over the place lately.”
My eyes flicker down to her lap where she’s currently wringing out her hands. Fuck. My right fist flexes on the wheel, wanting more than anything to lock my fingers right through hers.
“What about you?” she asks, twisting slightly to face me. I would do anything to hit another red light right now, just so that I could look at her again.
“My parents are fine. They work me like a dog though.”
She breathes out a small laugh and I flash her a grin.
“You know the war paint that I had on my face when we were over at the corn maze for Halloween? Mine wasn’t from a paint bottle. I’d literally been under a car all day. My dad’s a mechanic so I spend my Saturdays grinding at the workshop.” I think for a moment and then quickly add on, “And Sundays too. I work… both days at the shop.”
Definitely do not mention the fact that you used to work Sundays at the diner.
“Busy guy,” she comments as I pull up outside the cinema.
I shrug, shaking my head. “It’s nothing. Just work, classes and hockey, and then shooting the shit with the guys.”
“And the girls?” she asks.
I smirk and shake my head. “Ain’t no other girls, Fallon.”
She lifts an eyebrow and tries not to smile at me as she crosses her arms over her chest. “That’s how you’re going to play it, huh, Captain of the Carter Ridge Rangers? You’re six-four and built like a truck. I’m not an idiot. You must get girls all the time.”
I unfasten my seatbelt without meeting her eyes. I don’t know if it’s best to correct her assumption here and now or ignore it completely until she forgets that she ever mentioned it. If Tanner was here he would tell me to definitely not fucking address what she’s hinting at, so I get out of the truck without saying a word, reaching her door before she can let herself out.
Her eyebrow is still cocked and she’s looking at me like I’m a serial fucker. I jerk my chin at her, my cheeks turning beet red, and say, “Out, or we’ll miss the trailers.”
She slides out of her seat with a heated look in her eyes. “Well we wouldn’t want that,” she says as she brushes right past me.
I lock up the car and tail her into the building.
I already know which movie she’s hankering to see so I slap down two tens in front of the guy on reception and point to the poster that’s framed in the Now Showing section above his head.
Fallon watches our exchange with wide observant eyes and when she sees me looking down at her she gives me an almost ashamed looking smile.
“Thanks,” she says, her fingers agitatedly plaiting a tiny piece of her hair.
I pocket the tickets and get her walking by bumping my chest into her shoulder. “Don’t mention it,” I tell her, hoping she understands that I mean that literally. It’s only a cinema ticket – it barely merits a thank you, let alone that sad shimmery look that she’s got going on in her eyes.
When was the last time that someone took her out? When was the last time she was treated the way that she deserves?
I walk one step behind her as we take the stairs down to the smaller screening room, but my front thumps into her back as she pauses by the snack counter. I peer down at her over the top of her head and watch as she stares hungrily at a bag of candy cables.
“You want some of those?” I ask, and she scrubs at the button of her nose nervously.
“Uh, no, it’s fine,” she says, and then she starts moving again.
As if I’m not about to buy her the whole damn counter.
I hook my middle digit in the loop at the back of her jeans and grab five bags at random before pulling my card from my wallet.
“We’ll take these,” I say to the woman behind the till, at the same time as Fallon hisses at me, “What are you doing?”
I don’t know if she’s talking about the finger-in-her-belt-loop thing or the wanting-to-sugar-her-up-like-a-spoiled-princess thing so I ignore her question by shoving all of the candy into her arms. She cradles them against her chest and shoots me that surprised wide-eyed look again.
“Want a slushie?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Uh…”
I’m guessing that the red is strawberry and the green is apple or grape. I don’t have a fucking clue what the blue one is supposed to be and I don’t believe the woman behind the counter for a minute when, reading my mind, she gives me a bored look and drawls, “It’s raspberry.”
In what universe is the blue one goddamn raspberry?
I give Fallon’s loop a little tug to encourage her to pick, but this time she shakes her head, flushing a little.
“Not today,” she says, immediately looking mortified with herself.
“Why not?” I ask. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, Fallon.”
“Oh, no, it’s not that,” she amends. She glances between me, the slushie machine, and then back to me again. “It’s, uh…”
She looks really embarrassed. Why’s she looking so embarrassed for?
She drops her voice to a whisper and says, “I don’t want, um… they make your tongue change colour. I don’t want, like, a bright pink tongue.”
My eyes dip to her lips and suddenly my chest is pumping a little harder. There’s only one reason why she’d be thinking that deep about a slushie, right? Does she… does she expect me to make out with her in there?
Am I gonna spend the next two hours making out with her in there?
I can’t think of anything other than the now imminent prospect of making out with Fallon, so after pocketing my card I immediately start shoving her towards the cinema doors again.
“Sorry, that was, like, really forward,” she says, clutching the candy tighter as if she’s cringing real hard.
I shake my head and steer her into the back row where we finally drop down onto the red velvet seats. I turn to face her and she’s avoiding my eyes, pretending to be fascinated by her bags of candy.
“I didn’t bring you to the movies to make out with you for eighty minutes straight,” I tell her. Although, actually, if no-one else comes in through those doors then we will literally be the only people in for this showing. “I knew that you wanted to see this movie so I thought that maybe we could do it together. Nothing formal like dinner and roses before I know if you’re… interested in me like I’m interested in you, and nothing lame like asking you to meet me at a frat party.”
“I am, by the way,” she says quickly, still burning holes through the packaging of her Jelly Babies.
“…You are what?” I ask.
“Interested.” She takes a hasty swallow and wets her lips. “I’ve had a crappy month and, whether I like it or not, you’ve kind of been there with me for all of it. But I’m hoping that things are gonna get better soon so… I don’t know, I’m probably pushing my luck with the Universe but I… um, I would like to… with you… if you’d want to.”
My mind fills her blank spaces with terrible, awful things.
“Yeah, I want to,” I rumble and she finally meets my eyes, just as a staff member closes the door and the lights lower into blackness.
The air between us gets a hundred degrees hotter.
The trailers start to play on the screen but all that I can focus on is what’s happening in my peripheral vision. Namely, Fallon’s chest rising and falling in double time as she lets out these shaky little exhales, like she’s as nervous and excited as I am. I shove a hand through my hair and try to calm the hell down.
Focus on the trailers. Just focus on the trailers.
A small rustling sound breaks through my lust and I take a wary glance down to see Fallon poking around in one of the candy bags. I can’t help but smile when she looks up at me, silently offering me some of her candy.
I lean closer so that I don’t have to raise my voice over the trailers. “I got them for you, Fallon,” I murmur.
“You don’t like movie snacks?” she asks, looking a little hurt.
The movie snack that I want is sitting right next to me. I’ll do anything that Fallon wants me to though so I breathe out a laugh and shove my hand in the bag, but before I pull it back out the bag tears down the front completely, and in the next second Fallon has a lap full of Jelly Babies.
“Shit,” I grunt, instantly pulling my hand back from Fallon’s lap.
“Sorry!” she says, her voice high-pitched. “I guess you won’t want to eat any now.”
I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek. I’ve never wanted to eat a Jelly Baby so much in my damn life.
She drops them back into the broken bag and then lets out a nervous laugh as she tucks some hair behind her ear.
“Sorry,” she whispers again, and then she curls up on the seat, her small shoulder resting gently against mine.
The movie starts and I stare blankly at the screen, my chest pumping heavily as I try to keep my shoulders still. But every small shift of Fallon’s body has my abdomen flexing, the need to just get her up on me almost making me sweat.
By the time that we reach the film’s one and only make-out scene I’m ready to go into cardiac arrest.
“Are you okay?” Fallon whispers, probably because I’m no longer looking at the screen. I do not need a thirty-foot by fifty-foot reminder of what I want to be doing to the girl who is curled up right next to me.
Bracing myself, I look down at her and she’s gotten so cosy up against my bicep that her cheeks have flushed with warmth.
I run a palm down my thigh. She’s flushed with my warmth.
My eyes drop to her lips and I imagine giving in. Gripping a hand in the back of her hair and pulling her gently up to meet me, whilst sliding my other palm beneath her jumper and squeezing a rough palm around her–
“Hunter?” she whispers.
I clear my throat and look away. I’m not going to get one minute of sleep tonight.
“The photo you took of yourself,” I suddenly rasp. Yeah, I’ve just gone from one stupidly hot subject to another stupidly hot subject.
“What?” she asks, her attention split between me and the movie playing out in front of us.
“My favourite photo? On your, uh, page? It’s the one you took of yourself. You’re in your bed” – hang on, I hope to fuck that she took it in her own bed – “and you’re wearing this sort of flimsy-strapped tank top, and your hair is all…” I swallow hard. “Uh, thick against the pillow, and you have this kind of secret smile going on, and–”
Something small and soft reaches my hand, enveloping it in warmth although the tips of her fingers are still cold. I flip my palm so that it’s facing upright and the second that her touch resettles I lock my fingers right through hers, squeezing her gently before looking back down at her. Her attention is all on me now and hell if that doesn’t make me the happiest guy on the planet.
“I don’t do this a lot,” I murmur, quiet and honest.
She gives me a teasing smile. “What, hold hands?”
I breathe out a laugh. “I never hold hands. What I mean is I don’t…” I look down at our interlaced fingers, hers spread obscenely wide due to the thickness of my digits. The sight of it, the comparison between us, catches me off guard and I distractedly murmur, “You’re really small.”
She glances down at our hands and brushes her pinkie against my knuckle. “Sorry,” she says. “I know it’s weird.”
I frown and stare down at her, confused by her reaction.
“It’s all the gymnastics from when I was a kid – the repeated pressure on my joints kept me kind of short, and now that I’m an adult I don’t look… I should be more…” She glances up at my chest and her eyes roam across the breadth of it so damn longingly that my cock begins to strain. “Like, you look like a man. A grown man. Whereas I…” We both look down at her body, so petite that she’s managed to curl up entirely in her seat.
I rub my free palm down my stubble and bring our interlocked hands higher up my thigh.
“Fallon,” I say, raspier than I should be for a guy who hasn’t even taken her to first base yet. “I really, really like the way that you look.”
She rolls her eyes and tries to pull her hand out of mine. Nice fucking try but that’s not gonna happen.
“You’re a guy,” she huffs. “You’ll say that to anyone.”
“Fallon, look at me,” I say, gripping her hand a little tighter. “I like that you’re petite. It’s cute, and I like it.”
She could be 5’1” or 5’11” and my feelings for her wouldn’t change one bit.
“This was a really bad idea,” she whispers, beginning to look around, getting flustered. “Maybe I’m just not cut out for this. Dating and stuff–”
“Fallon. Listen to me. I haven’t dated while I’ve been in college.”
Fallon stops herself mid-sentence and her eyes suddenly lift up to meet mine.
“I haven’t been on one date and I’m in my senior year. I saw you and I liked you. You’re the only one.”
Her lips keep opening and closing, and after a while I have to stop staring at them. I should be more embarrassed by what I just told her but for some reason I feel like it’s exactly what she needed.
“You don’t date around?” she asks, her voice shy and hopeful.
An explosion goes off on the screen. She doesn’t even glance at it.
“No, Fallon. I don’t date around.”
Her brow twitches a little as her brain goes into overdrive. “So you… you just sleep around,” she mumbles. “Not that I’m judging,” she says quickly. “You’re a big guy, I know that you’ll have, er, needs to fulfil.”
My neck muscles tighten. As subtle as I can I give my groin a two-second grip and then, looking away from her, I grit out, “Yeah. I have needs.”
“I have a lot going on right now,” she says quietly, as if she hasn’t tried to warn me away from her before. “I’m really probably not the best option.”
“Fallon, you aren’t an option, you’re the only girl who I want to spend my time with. I wanna date you. Repeatedly. And you’re the only person that I wanna do that with.”
“Are you sure?” she says, so concerned that she’s almost wincing.
“I’m sure.”
“Are you sure that you’re sure?” she asks, but now she’s laughing nervously and I can’t hide the smile on my face.
I bring our hands to my mouth and press a hard kiss to her tiny pinkie, looking up at her beautiful face from under my lashes. “I’m more than sure, Fallon,” I murmur. “I promise.”
