pinky promise - jamie tartt

‟ MOST BEAUTIFUL „

˗ˏˋ 'ˎ˗

"Stop getting distracted, boyo,"

"I'm not distracted!" Jamie protested, clearly on the defensive. "I'm just checking me phone."

Tate snorted at the conversation she was overhearing. Perched on an unused bench designated as her spot, she sat cross-legged with her laptop, crafting promo ideas to present at her next meeting while the rest of the boys were scattered throughout the weight room.

"And you keep trying to talk to Tate," Colin huffed, though he laid back against the bench to do some presses, trusting Jamie to spot him. Jamie looked as if he wanted to protest Colin's statement, Tate shot him a flat look that told him not to try it.

Because she had been pointedly been ignoring his attempts to start a conversation with her so she could at least pretend to get some work done.

"Whatever, mate, let's just go." Jamie pouted, though she knew he wasn't truly offended. Tate grinned again, her attention switching to Sam, whose phone was ringing while he rode the stationary bike.

"Hello, Dad," Sam greeted as he answered his phone, and Tate jumped excitedly from her spot on the bench so that she could talk to Sam's dad.

"Hi, Ola!" Tate called out as she grew close to Sam, who slowed his cycling so that he could talk.

"Tatum! It is so good to hear from you." Ola recognized her voice, a fact that made Tate grin wider. She adored Sam's dad; the man had a habit of thanking her for taking care of his son while he was away from home. "Do you know why I'm calling, Sam?"

"No, sir."

"I'm calling because Cerithium Oil has just been ordered to stop operating in Nigeria." At Ola's declaration, Tate felt her jaw drop in shock. She gripped Sam's arm, as if he hadn't heard what his father declared, excitement bubbling in her chest.

"Wait, what? That's incredible!" Sam replied, sounding just as surprised as Tate felt.

"And you were the butterfly whose wings made this happen." Ola continued. "I'm so proud of you, my son."

"Thank you, Dad." Sam grinned bashfully. Tate pressed a kiss to Sam's cheek while he continued to speak to his father, though she missed what he said as she glanced over his shoulder and met Jamie's stare.

Her heart clenched as she recognized the look on his face—jealousy coated with guilt. She knew his dad had been after him about getting tickets to the Wembley semifinals, and as much as Jamie tried to play it off, she knew it bothered him.

But as Sam hung up the phone, Ola throwing a goodbye to her, Tate's attention snagged on something else entirely.

"Oh my god, Colin!" Tate shouted, just as Isaac noticed that Colin was struggling with the bench press and the weight had fallen on his neck.

"Oi! What're you doing!" Isaac huffed at Jamie, the two men scrambling to move the weight off of Colin. They easily got the bar re-racked, and Colin sat up, gasping for breath. Tate was at his side instantly, one hand on his shoulder while her other tilted his chin up so she could scan for injuries. Mother hen like, indeed.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Jamie asked Colin, and Tate shot him an incredulous look.

"It was on my neck," Colin rationalized between his assurances to Tate that he was fine. She rolled her eyes, then narrowed them on Jamie.

"So much for not being distracted," She taunted, though her heart was still racing at the injury her friend almost received.

"You know what, sod off, I got this." Isaac told Jamie, who raised his hands in defeat and made his way over to the bench Tate had previously been sitting on. She followed, dropping into her spot and tugging her laptop back into her lap while Jamie picked up a set of weights and began going through his routine.