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Pinkie Promise: Chapter 13

Fallon

Carter U’s D1 ‘hockey house’ meets every expectation that I had about it and then some. It’s laid out like a traditional multiple story home, only there are multiple bedrooms on each floor, and each floor is a different ‘apartment’, meaning that although the team are all technically housemates, only some of them will be each other’s floormates.

When we get up to the top floor, which is Hunter’s level, every soon-to-be-professional athlete that I’ve ever seen in the college paper is either sitting, standing, or leaning in his living area. There are two dark brown sofas in the centre of the room forming an L shape around a small coffee table, plus one deep navy armchair that is currently being occupied by Tanner.

Tanner’s thighs are spread wide and he’s running one palm through his thick mass of hair, although the sides are trimmed so short that they look borderline military. He’s as tan skinned as Hunter and the intensity of his eyes makes him look downright dangerous.

I don’t know Tanner too well but his reputation precedes him and, from what I’ve heard, he’s a bad boy through and through.

Connell kindly offered to be the designated driver for Ash and me tonight, and when I peek over to the left into Hunter’s open-plan kitchen I see that the entirety of Connell’s football team is already here too.

“Your boyfriend is a hotshot,” Aisling whispers to me, worming her way between Connell and one of his friends so that she can grab a bottle opener from the kitchen counter. Being the It Girl that she is, Ash brought two bottles of champagne with her as a kind of thanks for the invite party favour.

“He’s not technically my boyfriend,” I say to her, laughing when she gives me an over-exaggerated yeah yeah kind of wink. Connell is watching us with sharp eyes but his expression softens into a smile when he sees me looking.

“Here, let me,” he says, offering his hand out to Aisling so that he can pop the top off the bottle for her. His entire team cheers when the cork goes flying and he flashes them a handsome smile before handing the champagne back to his sister.

Ignoring the hungry stares from Connell’s teammates, Ash takes a pull straight from the bottle and we walk back into the living area.

Instinctively her eyes find Tanner in his splayed position on the armchair and she pauses for a second before rolling her eyes. Although this time I think that it’s more to do with the fact that Whitney, my replacement top-of-the-pyramid cheer flyer, is sat squished up beside him with her legs draped over his lap. She’s talking animatedly and waving a red Solo cup around but Tanner’s eyes are on us, his expression one of shock and horror.

I get a look at Aisling’s expression and immediately begin pushing her in the direction of the balcony to get her as far away from Tanner as possible, but Tanner has already shoved himself out of the armchair and is storming our way.

Tanner jumps over a small living room cabinet and I squeak in fear as he broaches the distance towards us before I can lock us both outside. His fingers grip the handle on the other side of the balcony door and I stare at him wide-eyed, not sure what to do next.

Ash is busy sipping champagne and ignoring Tanner, and Tanner’s eyes are flicking wildly between the two of us.

“I wanna talk to her,” he calls to me from the other side of the glass.

Aisling lets out a tiny huff.

A new song starts up on the speakers inside of the apartment and it sounds soft and muffled through the planes of the door.

“Move out of the way, Fallon. I’m opening this door and I don’t wanna hurt you.”

I’ve had enough door related injuries for one year so I release my fingers from the handle and Tanner immediately eases it open. As soon as he’s outside he stares down at me for one heavy moment. Aisling is sizzling with energy and I can feel it heating up my shoulders.

“I’ll take it from here,” Tanner says, eyes sliding over my head so that he can look at my roommate.

Aisling rolls her eyes. “Leave me alone, Viking, or I’ll pour champagne all over you.”

A tender look touches his eyes, as if he’d love to be drenched in champagne at the hand of Aisling, and he steps around me.

The balcony door is still open and I take a tentative step backwards, closer to the interior of the house. I’m not one hundred percent sure what’s going on between Ash and Tanner, but whatever it is feels too private for me to witness. Since Aisling isn’t asking me to stay I feel like it’s my cue to leave. I’m about to take another quiet step back into the living area when I suddenly feel a solid mass behind me and two big forearms envelop my exposed clavicle.

“You came,” Hunter murmurs, a smile in his voice as he kisses my cheek.

His large chest is pressing heavily into my back and his pumped muscles feel swollen and warm. Actually, he’s too warm – warmer than someone would typically feel through their clothing.

I spin around in his arms and find myself face to face with his naked torso.

“Oh,” I squeak, my strength immediately draining from my body. His skin is richly tanned, as if he’s spent the past seven summers working shirtless outside, and he’s glistening with water droplets as if he’s been sweating it up all night. His large hockey-player pecs are heaving right in front of me, and there’s a sexy trail of hair leading down his muscled naval. It disappears tauntingly beneath the band of his grey joggers.

“Just got out of the shower,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

I shake my head, speechless, and he whips the towel from around his neck so that he can leash it around my lower back, yanking me towards him so that my chest is flush against his. He smirks as he walks us backwards, pulling me away from the darkness of the tiny balcony and into the warm glow of the loud apartment.

I can’t help but notice Whitney staring intently through the balcony door.

“You want a drink?” Hunter asks, pulling my focus back up to his beautiful face. His eyes are slowly raking down my outfit as he murmurs, “You look so beautiful.”

I feel my neck flush and Hunter swipes his tongue over his lower lip.

“Let’s go to my room,” he murmurs, dropping the towel from behind my back and tossing it into a deserted corner. His hands take my waist and he gives me a firm squeeze.

“You didn’t bring any of your other boyfriends did you?” he asks teasingly.

“Oh, I forgot that I wasn’t supposed to, sorry,” I say, biting back a smile of my own.

He grunts and squeezes me harder. “Damn baby. I’ll forgive you, but only because I know you wore this outfit for me.”

In the next second my behind hits off something hard. I twist slightly and realise that Hunter has walked us to his bedroom door, one hand leaving my waist so that he can click the handle open. He presses into me with his bare chest and I stumble backwards, his palm keeping me steady.

“Wasn’t sure that you would come,” he murmurs as he closes the door behind us, before sliding both hands gently around the sides of my throat. “Thought you might be busy.”

“With my boyfriends,” I say, and he gives me that smug masculine grin of his.

“Yeah,” he grunts, hunching down so that he can press his face into the warm hollow at the base of my throat. He takes a deep inhale and groans, “Fallon, you smell so good.”

Feeling a little faint, I press one of my wrists against my forehead. “That’s what all of my boyfriends say to me,” I whisper, and his deep chuckle reverberates into my chest. I cautiously weave the fingers of my other hand through his thick dark hair and a low sound leaves his throat, encouraging me to tug at him even harder.

“I love your smart mouth,” he murmurs, kissing up the side of my throat and over the rosy surface of my cheek.

“Thank you,” I whisper back to him.

He smiles down at me and then kisses the tip of my nose.

I wait for him to kiss my mouth but he just continues looking down at me like he’s waiting for something.

Suddenly I remember that when I last saw him at the rink I had told him that I would explain my extremely inconvenient long string of trauma to him, and the thought of that makes me groan loudly. I press my head into his chest and give him a little thump on the bicep.

He’s going to make me earn this kiss, I think to myself. He’s trying to build trust between us.

He strokes tenderly at the back of my hair, as if he can tell that I’ve come to this realisation.

I kick off my shoes, catching Hunter’s attention, and he leans down for a moment so that he can stand them neatly beside his door.

Such a cutie, I think to myself as he stands upright again.

“You’re going to want to sit down for this shit-show,” I mumble against him, and two seconds later I’m flat on my back on top of his dark comforter. He eases his hips between my thighs and holds his body over mine. His forearms are pinned on either side of my head and his pupils have dialled out into total blackness.

“Or we could just lie down like this,” I choke out. “Th-this also works.”

He presses his solid chest down against my breasts and my eyes roll into the back of my head.

“Start talkin’,” he demands, his gaze still burning into mine.

“The reason why I was freaking out on the ice,” I whisper, as the heat from his chest begins burning its way down to my core. “The reason why I’m a little on edge these days… For the past three years at Carter U I’ve been the star flyer for the cheer team,” I tell him, closing my eyes so that I can actually focus on what I’m saying, instead of his giant sexy shoulders. “I’ve been the cheerleader who’s at the top of the centre pyramid. You get thrown around a lot because you’re flexible and lightweight, but the girls underneath you are supposed to be able to catch you.”

I shake my head slightly and press my thumb firmly between my eyebrows.

“Some of the girls who used to be on the comp team graduated last summer so we needed some new girls to take on their positions and… one of the girls that got picked kind of has to be on the team because… it doesn’t even matter. Long story short? She’s a freshman who couldn’t hold me up, and she ended up dropping me so many times that I ended up getting a concussion. Twice.”

I open my eyes and see that Hunter’s body has stilled entirely.

“Obviously, concussions aren’t amazing for your health because they can have potentially lasting negative effects. Carter U doesn’t want a legal nightmare or, you know, a dead cheerleader, so I was benched from the team to prevent ‘further incidents’.”

Hunter’s eyebrows crease in the middle and he pulls a slightly pained expression as he moves one hand to caress over my hip.

“Baby,” he murmurs, before pressing a kiss to my cheek. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck and clutch him tight, having never felt this kind of unconditional sympathy before. “Baby, that isn’t fair. You shouldn’t be the one getting benched. Why the hell would they keep that other chick on your squad?”

I swallow thickly and whisper, “If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone.”

He lifts his body and nods, his palm roaming up to massage my ribcage.

“She’s the daughter of Carter U’s president,” I whisper, and he closes his eyes as if he instantly understands the predicament. “But because I’m no longer on the team it means that the sport scholarship I thought I’d get for my Master’s is obviously no longer on the cards for me, which is why I’m busting my ass off for a grant from my department. Only the deadline moved up and my referee isn’t getting back in touch with me, so who the hell knows if I’m actually going to be able to get it.”

I try to just laugh it off but Hunter’s serious expression shows me that he isn’t buying my faux amusement for one second.

He clears his throat and rumbles, “I have some ideas that could help.”

I quickly look away from him, pretending to ignore that statement completely.

“It’s my responsibility,” I say in as strong a voice as I can manage. “I can’t… ask for help. It’s not how I was raised.”

He frowns deeply and then wraps both of his forearms behind my neck. My head lolls backwards and his eyes drop to my throat.

“Where’s all of this ‘responsibility’ stuff coming from?” he asks me quietly, before pressing his warm mouth against my neck. An unplanned whimper escapes my throat and he grunts so hard that I have to clench my thighs.

“This isn’t the time,” I whisper.

“Good a time as any,” he replies, lifting himself up onto one elbow so that his bicep is brushing against my cheek.

“I hate talking about bad stuff,” I admit. “I want to only talk about nice stuff when I’m with you.”

He smiles warmly and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Jesus, you’re cute. But I can handle it, Fallon.”

“Another time,” I insist. “I do have some kind of good news too though.”

He grins. “Hit me.”

I smack his left pec and he smirks down at me.

“You know what I meant, bad girl,” he murmurs, stroking one of his hands firmly down my back until he’s tightly gripping a handful of my ass. Something hard suddenly flexes against my belly.

“So I’m not allowed to do the actual competitions with the cheer team anymore, and I can’t get a sports grant for next year either,” I reiterate, “but I can still do… like, the stuff that isn’t legit. The stuff that’s just for fun, I mean. There’s a whole separate squad for, uh, college events and things? And Aisling told me about one that I might be the perfect flyer for… if I can get over the whole I’m scared because I had two concussions thing by the time that it rolls around.”

I’m being vague deliberately but Hunter seems to be following well enough.

“So I’m gonna get to see you perform?” he asks. His eyes move down over my belly and the hand on my behind grips harder.

I swallow hard, not knowing the answer to that question just yet. “I haven’t done any lifts since concussion number two, and I’ve been too nervous to do any practice that wasn’t just a one-on-one with Ash. Plus I need to convince myself that I’m not going to fall again. I think… I think that I’m going to stay at the condo over Christmas break to train, although I’m not sure if it’ll be any use seeing as I’ll be doing it all on my own anyway.”

“I’ll train with you.”

His words come instantaneously.

“I’m sorry, what?” I ask him, completely disbelieving what I just heard.

“I’ll train with you,” he repeats. “I’ll stay over during the winter break so that you’re ready for the next semester.”

I blink up at him, confused. “But you don’t know the routines.”

He laughs out loud and rolls off my body, onto his back. I immediately want him back on top of me, the weight and the heat of him a comforting shield that I previously didn’t realise I couldn’t live without.

“I ain’t doing the routines,” he says, grinning down at me. “I’ll just be on hand so that when you have to do your lifts and jumps there’ll be someone there to practice the positions with. The cheer positions,” he adds on quickly, his cheeks suddenly flushing. “You know what I mean.”

I roll onto my side so that I can look up at his face. His profile is unbelievably handsome, his jaw strong and his skin tanned. I think that the perfect way to describe him would be ‘rough-around-the-edges hot’. He has long black eyelashes and a masculine shadow of stubble, as if he’s recently shaved but it’s already growing back.

I let my eyes wander over the huge swells of his pecs and I have the most curious urge to tease his nipple with the tip of my tongue.

I’ve never been this close, physically or emotionally, with a man before, and, ironically, we haven’t even done anything yet. I test the waters by snuggling my face against his bicep. He instantly lifts his arm up over my head and slides it around me, crushing me against his chest.

I can’t resist. I give his nipple the tiniest flick with my tongue and he throws his free hand over his eyes, laughing and groaning at the same time.

“Are we going back outside to party with all of your tall attractive friends, or can we kiss properly now?” I mumble against his pec.

“Tall attractive friends?” he repeats, dropping the hand from his face so that he can stare down at me. “Which one do you like? Who do I have to kill?”

He rolls onto his side so that now I’m staring directly into the cavern between his pecs, and they’re large and firm and smell divine. He tangles his fingers up in my hair and rubs his other hand over my hip.

“I need to tell you something,” he says to me, tilting my head backwards so that he can stare down into my eyes. “After you, you know, say yes to me helping you out with your cheer stuff.”

I give him one of my rare small smiles and it makes him pull me tighter against him.

“No way are you going to follow through on that,” I say to him, “but it’s the thought that counts so, theoretically, I say yes.”

His frown is so deep that it makes my smile waver. “Fallon, of course I’ll follow through. I’m not making you promises with the intentions of breaking them.” He presses a kiss to my forehead and then another to my cheek. “You can trust me, I’m gonna prove it to you. I’m gonna help you all winter long.”

I don’t want to let myself believe him but the hurt in his eyes looks painfully sincere.

“Okay,” I whisper. “I’m sorry, yes, okay.”

“No apologising,” he murmurs, pulling my body higher against his chest. “I’m glad you said yes, but no apologising anymore, okay?”

My palms slide up his pecs and his breathing turns shallow, his chest rising and falling in quickening pumps.

“I need… I need to tell you…” he says again, but then we’re closing the space between us and he crushes his mouth on mine.

His touch is warm and firm, and I moan with relief as soon as he kisses me. The large hand in my hair travels down to grip my jaw and the palm on my hip skirts dangerously around the hem of my dress.

“I think about this every night,” he murmurs, pulling back slightly so that he can watch me stroke at his chest.

“Your body’s so big,” I whisper, as my fingertips rub up the length of his happy trail.

“Fuck,” he grunts, and suddenly he’s rolling me onto my back. He grabs my hand with one of his and leashes it around to the back of his neck. “Don’t do that, baby. We’re just making out tonight. Touching me there makes me wanna do stuff with you.”

He dips his mouth back to mine and presses my body harder into the mattress. I stroke my fingers into his hair and he moves one of his hands to my inner thigh. I gasp in shock, and the parting of my lips is all that Hunter needs. He eases me wide open and slides his tongue inside my mouth.

My hips squirm wildly beneath the soft cotton of his joggers and he grunts hard as he shoves my dress up to my belly. He rolls his groin against mine, making my brain blackout completely, and he rubs his tongue in long hot strokes against my own.

“Fuck, that’s good, baby,” he grunts, pulling away and cupping my cheek. “Can I keep doing that?” he asks. “Can I keep kissing you like this?”

“Please,” I whisper, pulling him back down to me with weak arms. He releases a gruff satisfied sound as soon as he’s kissing me again and my body splays bonelessly against his soft dark comforter. He slides his tongue back inside my mouth and lets out a long low groan, before he begins rubbing me so fast that I feel the pressure in my belly. His hips grind slow and hard between my legs, his bare chest occasionally brushing painfully over my aching nipples.

The long muscle in his joggers jerks hard against my heat and he groans into my neck, his breathing erratic. “Didn’t mean to do that. Not wearing boxers.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and whisper, “I can tell.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs before pressing a series of slower kisses against my lips. He licks at my tongue gently, his back muscles rolling in time with his hips.

“Hunter,” I gasp, as his fingers suddenly grip at the curves of my chest.

“Yeah,” he says hoarsely, eyes on his hand as it rubs a careful circle over me. He squeezes slightly and I stifle a sob.

“We need to stop,” I whisper. “Someone could come in here.”

He glances in a daze over to his door and then shoves his hand through his hair, panting hard. “Sorry,” he says again, dropping his entire bodyweight on top of me. He presses a hard kiss against my temple as he tries to calm down his breathing.

“I don’t think I’m ready to… I want to, but I’m not ready yet,” I admit, feeling a little embarrassed.

His breathing is heavy as he holds me firmly against his chest. “Didn’t mean to make you think that I was tryin’ to fuck you,” he says quietly, groaning in anguish when his length jerks against me again. “I know we ain’t there yet.” He thinks for a moment and then adds, “Fuck, I don’t even have condoms.”

He rolls over onto his back and brings me along for the ride. I end up straddling his groin while my breasts remain compressed against his abdomen. He strokes one palm down to my ass and gives my cheek a rough slap.

“It’s hard to take it slow when I’ve got you on my sheets is all.”

He pulls me up his body and then cups his hands around my face.

The action is so sweet that I let out a happy laugh and Hunter does a half sit-up so that he can kiss me.

“You ever had a boyfriend?” he asks, stroking at my jaw. When I shake my head he grins and says, “You want one?”

I laugh as if he’s teasing me, before gripping my fingers into his pecs for push-up leverage. He groans when my nails dig into him and it’s such a beautiful sound that I decide to dig them in even harder.

Ugh, yeah, keep doing that,” he grunts, closing his eyes briefly as he shoves my hips down onto his lap, pressing me forcefully against his rigid cock. His mouth is set into a sexual sneer, his chest pumping hard. “Don’t know if you can tell,” he murmurs, “but I swear to God I could… I could finish just from this.”

My thighs squeeze and Hunter sits up so that he can look down at me. He gives me a slow but firm kiss and warmth spreads deep in my belly.

“What were you going to tell me?” I ask him when he finally pulls away.

He tucks a curl behind my ear and drops his eyes to my waist. He encircles it with one of his hands and gives it a gentle squeeze as he shakes his head.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll tell you another time.” He leans into my neck and presses a kiss to my skin. “Don’t know if I already said it but you’re the prettiest thing that I’ve ever seen.”

I hide my smile against his soft dishevelled hair. “It’s just the dress.”

“It’s the girl in the dress,” he grunts. Then he says, “It’s a short dress though. Aren’t these thighs gonna get cold?”

I shudder as he slides his large warm palms up my arms. “We had the heating on in the car,” I whisper, as he tangles his fingers in the flimsy straps of my lilac dress.

“You came in the car?” he asks quietly, as he kisses along my collarbone. “But I thought you didn’t…” He pauses for a moment before lifting his head. Looking down at me he says, “Who drove you here tonight?”

It’s at that moment that there’s a loud knock on Hunter’s door.

Immediately my eyes flash over to it and I whisper, “Did you lock that?”

Hunter looks down at me, conflicting emotions burning in his irises, and then his bedroom door swings open, Connell standing with his arms crossed in the doorway.

“Oh,” Connell says casually, the music from the living area blasting loudly. He scratches at the back of his head and looks awkwardly away from the way that Hunter is holding me against his body. “Sorry. I just didn’t know where else to find you. Uh, Ash is pissed and wants to go to a different party so… unless you were gonna, uh, stay here tonight…”

We remain speechless for a few long moments until, eventually, Hunter turns his head away from Connell.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, although I’m not sure who I’m saying it to. “I’ll just–”

I slowly lift up so that I can leave Hunter’s lap, but the second that I begin to move he cups my cheeks in his large hands. In a strained voice he murmurs, “You brought Connell?”

“Connell brought Fallon,” Connell says dryly from the doorway. I don’t think that he means to sound as glib as he does, but I still shoot him a frosty look that makes him breathe a laugh and shake his head.

“Connell,” I say, my voice shaking a little. “I’ll meet you in a minute. Can you please close the door for a sec?”

He inhales and nods, his eyes locked in with Hunter’s. Hunter gives him an emotionless glance, his eyes dark and blank.

When the door clicks shut I wring my hands in my lap. “Okay, this looks bad, but I promise it isn’t what it looks like.”

Hunter watches my hands, his cheeks burning crimson. “It’s okay, Fallon, I get it. You’re a beautiful girl.”

Oh God, he actually thinks that I’m two-timing him.

“No no no,” I say quickly, “Connell is my best friend’s brother. He’s DDing for us.” I press my fingers into my temples and then mumble, “I should never have teased you with the ‘all my hot boyfriends’ thing. You’re going to think that I was being serious but I was just trying to be funny.”

Humour, I have learned, is a very subjective thing.

Hunter’s eyes briefly catch mine before he looks down again.

“Are you saying…” His voice is rough and he pauses to try and clear it. If anything, it just gets rougher. “Are you saying that you… aren’t dating Connell? That I’m the only guy you’re seeing?”

I nod adamantly.

He looks back at his comforter, to where I was lying beneath him only five minutes ago.

“Hunter,” I say, closing my eyes. “I know that you think that I’m some sort of minxy cheerleader who has five billion guys blowing up her phone but…”

I open my eyes and he’s watching me longingly.

I put my hand on my heart and whisper, “It really pains me to admit this but… I am a huge freaking nerd.”

His expression changes completely. There’s a new sparkle in his eyes, an almost-smile on his mouth. Then he shakes his head like I’m joking and says, “Sure. Right.”

“Hunter.”

I cup his stubble-coated jaw and he grunts involuntarily.

“I’m being serious, Hunter. Believe me when I say that I wouldn’t lie to you about this. When you next come over to the condo I…” I shake my head and sigh. “I’ll show you my Baby Yoda coffee mug collection.”

Hunter laughs and shoves a hand through his hair, his heated eyes raking over me wildly.

“A cheerleader nerd?” he rasps, like I’ve just enunciated his deepest fantasy. “Tell me that you’re not kidding,” he says as he meets my eyes again.

“I don’t lie when it comes to Baby Yoda,” I whisper to him honestly.

He grins in relief and kisses me hard, a low sound vibrating through his chest as if his whole body is aching.

“Sometimes I wear glasses,” I admit when he pulls away, and he drops his forehead to my shoulder, groaning like I’m torturing him.

“I really like you, Fallon,” he says quietly, when we finally stand from his bed, holding me steady as I slide my feet back into my high heels.

Then I rise up onto my tip-toes and Hunter instantly leans down, meeting me in the middle for a small chaste kiss.

I’m too shy to say the words but it doesn’t matter because he feels them anyway as he touches my lips with his.

I really like you too, Hunter.


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