Pinkie Promise (Carter Ridge Book 1)

Fallon wanted space over the winter break – to finish up her grant application and to have some alone-time with her secret manuscript – and, feeling like a damn saint, I respected her wishes.

Didn’t mean that I had to like it though.

The thought of Fallon lying on her belly as she worked the keys on her laptop had me very fucking tempted to ignore her do-not-disturb rule. There was nothing that I wanted to do more than to pull up unannounced, Carter Ridge’s snowfall be damned. But maybe it was a good thing that she set up some winter boundaries because, if we’d done it my way, we would have stayed in Fallon’s bedroom for the entire winter break.

But she knew that. She knew that if we continued hanging out while everyone had gone home, there was no way that we could’ve waited it out this long. I’m not so arrogant as to think that once we start having sex I’m going to be able to focus on anything else, which is why I used our time apart to finish up as much college work as possible. Because this semester I only want to be doing two things.

Hockey.

And Fallon.

I spent every night of the winter break looking at that beautiful photo she sent to me from the back of a crowded Uber. Sending it to me because she knew that I’d need something to keep me going while I gave her space. I’ve had my hands on Fallon’s body a good number of times, but that photo is a reminder of everything that we haven’t done yet, and a promise of what’s to come.

I scrub my towel over my hair while zooming into the photo, the steam in the bathroom fogging up my reflection in the mirror.

Damn, she’s perfect. Satisfaction swells in my abs, my cock instantly hard and heavy. I give myself a minute to look at the photo, my fist gripping beneath the head of my dick and then suddenly tugging towards the thick base, my hips pistoning forwards as I give myself a few rough pumps.

The sight of Fallon squeezing her breasts together is driving me damn feral. I don’t know how the hell a chick her size managed to grow tits like that, and I am not for one second fucking complaining.

Warm moisture spurts out of the tip and I grunt back to the present. I let go of my shaft and gently settle my phone on the sink, cleaning up the mess before I finish off my towel-drying.

Term starts in two days which means that my ban on disturbing Fallon’s study-time is finally up. I got a little finally finished, come get me text an hour ago so, now that she’s submitted her grant application, I’m finally going to take her out as promised. I finished up in the garage earlier than I should have but Colton’s going to handle it while I’m not in the shop.

I toss the towel into the laundry basket and pull up a pair of boxers and jeans. I slip my cell into my pocket as I unlock the bathroom door and then I roll my shoulders back as I step out into the hallway.

Or I would be stepping out into the hallway if Archer, my youngest brother, wasn’t right outside the door, looking up at me with a terrified expression and his hands covering the front of his baby cargos.

“Ah shit,” I say quietly, quickly swooping him off the ground and into the bathroom, knowing from his face that he’s about to pee his pants. I hold him over the toilet so that he can do his business while asking him in as nurturing a tone as I can manage, “Why didn’t you knock, buddy? When you need to use the bathroom all you’ve gotta do is knock.”

After doing what he came to do his spirits are immediately lifted, and he tries to hug at my leg as I get his trousers back over his tiny feet. We’re both equally impressed that he didn’t actually pee himself.

I toss him over my shoulder like a kitchen towel and he squeals and kicks his legs happily as I walk us down the stairs.

My mom is in the living area with Wren and Ryder so I settle Archer on the couch beside her and explain the no-knocking almost-peed-himself-again situation.

Wren, my baby sister, is resting in my mom’s arms and she’s smiling up at me with her adorable sparkly-eyed smile. She’s not one-and-a-half years old yet but she has a head of fluffy blonde curls and the longest black lashes that I’ve ever seen.

She drops the soft toy that she had loosely clutched under her arm and I give her a grin because I know that she did it just to make me play with her. I pick it up, wait for a second, and then I tickle it up her belly, making her giggle and squirm wildly in my mom’s arms.

Once I finally stuff the toy back under her little hand, I lean down to give her a kiss on her forehead. Archer is immediately back on his feet, hugging at my leg again because he can tell that I’m about to go.

They see me at the weekends during term but spending the whole winter break at home has meant that they’ve grown used to having me around. I look down into Arch’s eyes and see that they’ve gone dangerously big and glossy.

I try to defuse the tear-bomb by roughing up his messy hair and then picking him up by his ribcage and tickling him into distraction.

While he laughs and kicks at me I say to my mom, “I’ve got all my stuff in the truck. I’ll see you Saturday.”

She catches Wren’s toy before it makes another ‘accidental’ fall to the floor and she says, “Have fun. Maybe I’ll see you stop by the diner on Sunday.”

That last part is said with a smug smile and zero eye contact. My neck burns red as I release Archer and I grab my jumper from the arm of the couch.

“Hey now,” I mumble, embarrassed as hell. Because yeah, during a couple of Fallon’s shifts last term I stopped by the diner just so that I could flirt with her. But, in my defence, I did time my visits with when I knew my mom wasn’t going to be in the diner.

I pull the jumper over my head and tug at my hair.

“Please, uh, remember not to mention anything to her,” I say gruffly.

My mom looks up at me like I’m a fucking idiot.

When I asked her to take Fallon on I’d told her the situation: Fallon needed cash but I didn’t want her knowing that I’d pulled strings with my parents to get her the job because, if she knew, she never would have accepted it. At that point she low-key hated my ass, but now that she kind of likes me it’s actually even worse.

Something that my mom is evidently very aware of.

“You really like her?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“She your girlfriend now?”

I roll my shoulders and try to will away the heat in my cheekbones. I swallow hard and rumble, “Uh, kinda.”

“Is it serious?”

I shove my tongue in my cheek and look down at the wooden flooring.

My mom rolls her eyes. “So how exactly are you going to get her to ‘meet the parents’ at some point when she’s already technically met your mom?”

I rub my hand down over my jaw. Yeah, as soon as I’d made the plan I’d realised how terrible it was, but in the moment it had seemed like the right thing to do. A way to help Fallon with her financial predicament and also, you know, maybe get a little closer to her.

“I’ll think of something,” I mutter quietly. Knowing that I’m lying to Fallon every moment that I don’t tell her that she’s working at my family’s business is making my temples throb like hell. I honest to God can’t think of a way out of this fuck-up.

Maybe we’ll just never do the meet the parents thing. I mean, given her parental situation I don’t know if she’d ever want me meeting hers, so maybe I could just do the same–?

“If you’re thinking about never getting her to meet your parents right now, so help me Lord,” my mom says, and I press my palm into my forehead, letting out a pained laugh.

“Get outta my head,” I mumble, but we share a smile anyway. I know that she’s looking out for me, and she knows that I’ll try my damn hardest to make this right. “I’m meeting up with her now,” I admit as I trudge to the doorway to pull my boots on. My mom follows me with Wren, who’s watching me curiously from her arms. “Taking her to the rink.”

Originally I was going to bring one of my siblings with me but I’ve had them skating hard over Christmas and, if it’s just the two of us, I’ll get to have one-hundred percent of Fallon’s attention.

“Have a lovely time,” my mom says. Then she pointedly adds, “Be safe.”

My eyes flash to hers and a silent conversation passes between us. I mean, she’s one to fucking talk. I’m almost twenty-two and my parents are barely forty. Do the math.

“We haven’t got there yet,” I grunt reluctantly, because apparently I don’t have a filter when it comes to my mom. My skin is on fire I’m so damn embarrassed.

She nods at me anyway, her expression composed and kind. “It isn’t my business, but I want what’s best for you is all. Be seein’ you.”

I let the kids hug at my legs again before tipping my chin at her and heading out to my truck.

“Be seein’ you.”

*

I text Fallon’s phone as soon as I pull up outside of the condo, stepping down from my truck and rounding the hood to head towards her building. The weather still isn’t great but it’s not as hostile as it was a few weeks ago, so with the roads being constantly managed we’ll get to the rink hassle-free.

I’m about to start crossing the lot towards the entrance of the building when Fallon suddenly appears, her petite form bundled up under a big white puffer jacket. I stop dead in the road, feeling like a huge weight has just lifted from my chest.

She has a soft lilac scarf wrapped around her neck and she’s wearing a pair of skin-tight leggings. The second that she spots me I swear she almost trips over her little snow boots, her cheeks flushing pink and her hands moving to her earmuffs, stroking over the fur as if she needs something to do with her hands.

Once she’s only about ten feet away from me I can’t keep still any longer. I rush her and grab her by her waist, loving the way that she squeals excitedly when I lift her up and compress her against my chest. Then I grab the back of her head and hold her in place so that I can crash my mouth down to hers.

She makes a sweet surprised sound that melts into a moan as I walk us carefully to my truck, my mouth never leaving hers.

We’ve had over three weeks of keeping our distance, and I have every intention of making up for lost time.

When her back hits the passenger door and she lets out a little gasp I slip my tongue inside her mouth and start stroking her deep and slow.

She wriggles against my lap, making me pull away and smirk down at her. She hastily reaches up to reaffix her earmuffs and I press into her slightly harder.

Her eyes widen and black out.

“Fallon,” I rumble, setting her down onto her feet.

“Hi,” she breathes back to me. “Happy New Year.”

I grin and click the handle on the door behind her, helping her clamber up the step so that she can get herself onto the seat. I also get a real nice view of her bent-over ass in those leggings, the kind of view that has me readjusting my dick through my jeans as I head over to the driver’s side, ready to take her on our date.

Once I’m inside the car and both of our doors are locked shut I immediately get my hands on her hips and drag her over the stick-shift onto my lap.

“Happy New Year, baby,” I murmur, before leaning down to kiss her again.

She moans into my mouth as she begins pulling at her scarf and the zipper on her jacket. I lean back so that I can see what she’s got underneath it and she shows me her fitted thermal shirt, her chest rising and falling quickly beneath it.

“I finished my application,” she says, her eyes wide as she looks up at me. Something about her expression is so hesitant, so hopeful, that it makes me wonder if I’m the first person she’s told this to out loud.

Which is why I squeeze my hands around her little waist and say, “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

Her lashes flutter sleepily and she lets out a small sigh of relief, resting her forehead against my chest as if she can finally breathe.

I bite back a smirk.

My girl likes to be praised.

And I am more than willing to provide that service.

“Wanna know where we’re going?” I ask her as I roam my palms down over her behind. I already told her last semester that I wanted to take her to the rink but I thought that I’d bring it up again in case she’d forgotten.

“’Kay,” she says, pulling back so that she can look up at me.

I reach one arm behind me to where all my shit is in the back, and when I find what I’m looking for I get a grip around the box and hold it up next to her.

Her gaze immediately flashes to the gift-wrapped box in my hand and her beautiful eyes get even brighter.

“Is that… a Christmas present?” she asks, her fingertips twitching against my abs in hopeful anticipation.

“Yeah, seeing as you had me doin’ time during the break and wouldn’t let me see you, I had to save ’em until now,” I say with a grin. Then I reach back and grab a second box, making her squeal before she kisses me.

I laugh and kiss her back, my day already made.

“I hope you like them,” I murmur, massaging her ass a little harder. “The first gift is plain selfish, but the other one is so that we can start doing certain stuff together. Stuff that I can open up your world to, so that you can have a clearer understanding of mine.”

“I love them already,” she mumbles, making me chuckle as we break the kiss.

She peeks up at me, curious, and I jerk my chin at her. “Open ’em, baby.”

She waits a grand total of three seconds before grabbing the first box from my hand and resting it between us on my lap. She rips straight through the paper and feels around for the lip of the lid. Once she gets her fingers underneath it she pushes the lid back and a small happy noise leaves her chest.

She presses her hands against her cheeks but I pull them away so that I can see her dimples.

“Did you… get me your jersey?” she asks, squealing when I lean forward and kiss at her neck. There are no words to describe how good it feels to know that your girl is excited to have your name on her back.

“Got in touch with the company that stocks Carter U and asked for them to do me a custom one,” I murmur, sucking at her skin when she tightens her arms around my shoulders. “Didn’t know if they’d be able to but turns out they could.”

“Hunter, this is so…”

I lift up from her neck and she’s shimmering with happiness.

I clear my throat, pleased. “Next one,” I tell her.

She carefully places her new jersey to the side and gets to work on unwrapping the second box. When she rips it open she inhales a happy gasp.

“You bought me skates?” she whispers, beaming up at me with the most amazing look in her eyes. “You got me skates, so that we can skate together?”

I try to scrub away the heat from my neck. Fallon gives me a little smile as she strokes at the pretty lilac laces.

“You like ’em?” I ask gruffly.

“Yeah, I like them,” she says with a grin, lifting one of them tentatively from the box so that she can get a better look at it.

They’re a figure skating type of boot rather than the ice hockey type, but I can tell from the way she’s handling them that they’re slightly heavier than she expected. You can get lightweight figure skating boots but I wanted to make sure that Fallon had the most secure and comfortable skate that I could find.

“Purple,” she adds, giving me a prolonged look as she toys with the laces that I got custom done for her.

I grunt and nod. Yeah, okay, I’ve noticed her favourite colour.

“I’m hoping they’re gonna fit,” I say, even though I’m positive that they will. I saw her shoe size during the first time that she ever came into my bedroom, when she kicked off her high heels before we’d started fooling around on my sheets. The memory has my lids getting heavy and my palms massaging her harder.

She replaces the lid on the box and gives me a shy smile before she leans up to reward me with a kiss on the cheek. Like we’re in damn middle school. Laughing, I use one hand to replace the box in the backseat while using my other hand to grip the back of her neck and pull her up for a real kiss. She loops her arms around my shoulders and lets me slant her open, stroking my tongue around hers as my thigh muscles begin to flex.

“What if I’m no good?” she whispers suddenly, pulling back a millimetre so that she can flash her eyes in the direction of the box. “I mean, skating for fun isn’t as dangerous as ice hockey but I’ve seen the accidents that people can get themselves into.”

I move a hand to her throat so that I can rub my thumb up her jaw.

“I’m not gonna let go of you,” I tell her, meaning those words in every way that they can be interpreted. I want her to experience the thrill of gliding seamlessly over the ice, but I also want to be right behind her, holding her steady. Holding her, period.

To be honest I’m betting that she’s going to be a natural on the ice, although I can’t deny that I’m going to enjoy her clutching onto me as she first gets a feel for it.

“Thanks,” she says quietly, smiling when I dip down to kiss her neck.

“I missed you,” I murmur gruffly. “So freakin’ much.”

I heard that forced proximity was the thing that made a guy fall for a girl, but it turns out that forced distancing makes things a million times worse.

“Oh,” she breathes, blushing as she smiles. She pats at one of her earmuffs and teases, “How ever did you cope?”

I breathe out a laugh and scrape her pussy straight up my lap, wiping that smug little expression right off her face.

“Take a wild guess, baby.”

She lets out a shaky breath and I press a kiss against her temple.

“Are you gonna let this – us – happen this semester?” I ask her quietly as the air in the truck grows warmer, more intimate. “Gonna be my girlfriend?”

Last term she was so busy stressing about her future, constantly putting measures in place so that she could achieve her goals. But I’m hoping that now her grant application is submitted and her role with her new cheer team will be starting up, she’ll have the freedom to make time for herself. To make time for her needs.

Needs that I’m hungry to fulfil.

It’s a conversation that doesn’t usually happen, this laying down of the fine print so that we’re both on the same page, but it’s one that I need us to have before I take this to the next level. I already know that I want her. I just need to know that she wants me too.

I try to ease the pressure of communicating her inner-most thoughts by gently stroking at her throat and kissing her. She purrs lightly, making my cock flex and throb.

“I know you don’t like talking about your feelings,” I murmur, “and I promise we won’t have to talk about them often. I just need an answer for this one, baby. Can I start treating you the way that I’ve been wanting to?”

Her hands fist my shirt, gripping me closer.

“You want me to be your boyfriend, you just say the words. Because I sure as hell want you to be my girlfriend. I sure as hell want to make you mine.”

Before she meets my eyes she strokes tenderly up my stubble, the bristles scraping loud and rough against her fingers.

“And we never have to talk about feelings again?” she asks, trying to tamper down her smile as she looks up at me from under her pretty lashes.

I half-laugh, half-groan. “How is it that I’ve found the one chick who doesn’t wanna talk about emotions? You read romance books, baby – I thought that they’d be full of this stuff.”

She ponders that for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face. “There’s… usually very little time for emotional development. It’s more like, they meet and then after a couple of chapters they’re in bed together. Well, maybe not in a bed, specifically. It’s sometimes so urgent that there isn’t enough time for them to find a bed.”

I tug at my hair. “Jesus.”

“But, um, in answer to your question… yeah. I wanna… I’d like us to…” She presses her fingers against her forehead, drops them, and then lets the words out in a gust. “I wanna let this happen.”

Warmth shoots through my chest. This is finally happening.

“Is that a yes?” I ask, my heart thundering in my ears. “You’re gonna be my girl?”

She hides her face in my chest, giggling wildly as she nods her head.

“Baby,” I rasp, grinning when she beams up at me. I instantly hunker down to kiss her, growling victoriously as she moans. “Mine,” I say gruffly, and she laughs delightedly as I smother her in kisses.