Page 10 of The Bro-code

Another thing I don’t miss is her eye roll and the little annoyed sigh she emits when she spots me.

The lounge is almost empty, and I can’t say I’m surprised when she makes a big show of walking all the way to the opposite end of the room, picking the farthest seat from me she possibly can. A little further than that, and she’d be sitting on the tarmac.

I’m not worried though.

We’re going to be on the same flight and in the same section of the plane. I have more than five hours to remedy the poor first impression she got of me.

Right now, my eyes are on the prize, and I walk to the buffet to grab the cinnamon roll that’s been occupying my mind just as much as the blonde stranger.

I notice her walking toward the buffet from the opposite side and frantically look for a pickup line, anything witty.

Of course, I come up empty. Never something smart to say when I need it.

I’m so distracted thinking about what to say to her that I don’t realize that we’re both reaching for the cinnamon rolls. For the last cinnamon roll on the plate to be precise.

“Oh.” She gasps when my fingers brush hers.

I don’t move my hand on purpose. At this point, I couldn’t care less about the cinnamon roll, but the contact with the woman’s perfectly manicured fingers does something to me on a physical level.

It doesn’t just go straight to my cock—I mean, fuck, it does—all the fine hairs on my body stand at attention in the best possible way. It’s almost like our skins are meant to touch.

I’m about to let her have it; I don’t really need a second one and maybe this is the chivalrous gesture that could break the ice.

“Hey,” she frowns. “I saw it first.”

Don’t ask me what it is, but instead of letting her have it as I planned, I tug on it, snatching it out of her hand.

Man, the look on her face.

Those pouty lips look softer than the cinnamon roll in my hand. My favorite thing though, is the fire in her blue eyes.

“You might have seen it first,” I chuckle. “But you didn’t act fast enough. You snooze, you lose.”

Come on, hot stuff. Ask nicely, and you can have the cinnamon roll.

“Give that back.” She demands.

This is too much fun.

“What are you gonna give me in return?” I smirk.

“I’ll let you keep your balls intact,” she seethes, her beautiful eyes narrowed into two furious slits. “I’ve had a long journey and I need something sweet. Cinnamon rolls are my favorite.”

“They’re my favorite too,” I argue. “And I bet you’re sweet enough.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

What the ever loving fuck was that? How in the world did I come up with the lamest pick up line of all times?

The disgusted look on her face tells me that she agrees with me.

Jeez, I have zero fucking game. Maybe because usually it takes women just one look to decide that they like me?

The disappointed look on her face is almost too much for me to take. I’m about to concede, the words are on the tip of my tongue, when she begs me.

“Please, would you at least consider sharing it with me? I fell asleep when they served dinner on my previous flight and I’m starving.”

I don’t point out the obvious, that there’s plenty of food on offer on the table.

---