Page 12 of The Bro-code

I frown at the way my nipples are visible through my bra and the thin fabric of my silky white shirt.

That wasn’t the only unwanted reaction, though. My panties are wet, and I wish I wore jeans rather than a skirt now. But I hate wearing any kind of tight clothing when I travel, so I guess I need to calm down.

I check the time on my phone and take another deep breath. I better hurry, missing my flight isn’t a good idea, despite how much I’m dreading going back to campus.

Hopefully by now Topher got the hint that I don’t want to talk to him. After leaving Star Cove in a hurry, I turned my phone off for the couple of days it took me to get to Luca’s yacht. When I switched it back on to let Lake know I was safely on the Queen Isabelle, I found two hundred and fifty-eight missed calls from my ex. My voicemail was full, and he had also sent hundreds of text messages and DMs on all my social media.

I blocked him from everything under the sun, obviously.

Perseverance, though, is one of the things Topher and I have in common, so he tried contacting me from other numbers.

In the end, I had no choice but to stay off social media aside from work posts and filtering all phone calls blocking every contact aside from my sponsors, immediate family, and Cole.

In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to see or talk to Topher ever again. But Star Cove isn’t a huge college, and even if it was, being presidents of our Greek chapters means that we’ll have to see each other and talk. Especially because the Zetas and the Gammas are affiliated, and we tend to run a lot of events together.

I’m under no illusion that it is going to be easy. I even thought about giving up my presidency, but why should I? I worked so hard to get where I am, and Topher doesn’t deserve to ruin that for me, too. Hopefully I’ll be surrounded by all my friends, and they’ll help me to keep my interactions with my ex to the bare minimum.

After one last check in the mirror, I exit the bathroom, pleased that boarding is almost complete. All I have to do now is to slip quietly into my first-class seat and hopefully catch up on some sleep.

“Welcome on board, ma’am,” the flight attendant smiles. “Your seat is just on the left.”

I roll my carry-on past the partition that separates the front door and galley area of the aircraft from the first class section, and… you must be shitting me.

My boarding pass is still in my hands, and my gaze drops to it to double check that my seat is in fact one A.

Once I establish that my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me earlier, I fix my gaze again on the strapping, tall, annoyingly handsome stranger who’s sitting in my seat as if he had every right to do so.

God, I’m so tired of men behaving like asshats with total impunity. I close my eyes, inhaling deeply to calm down before I open my mouth.

I clear my throat. “You’re in my seat.”

He lifts his ice blue eyes from his phone. “No, I’m not. But nice pick up line.”

The nerve on this guy. “What? Do you think I’m saying this to have an excuse to talk to you?”

The corner of his lips quirks up in a teasing smile. “There’s no other reason why you’d say something that’s obviously false. I’m in my assigned seat.”

My fingers clutch the handle of my carry-on with white knuckle force. It’s either that, or I’ll punch that perfect smile off his face. “Maybe you need glasses or to take extra reading lessons because you’re in one A, and that’s my seat.”

I wave the boarding pass in his face, and he grabs it surprisingly quickly. “Hmm, interesting,” he murmurs. “Why is there lipstick all over it? You can’t even see whose boarding pass this is. Let me?—”

I snatch it from his fingers, before he can clean it up or tamper with it in any way. “Ha, so funny. That happened when you elbowed me earlier. Regardless, now that you know I wasn’t trying to pick you up,” I say with an eye roll. “Can you please go to your seat?”

His smile doesn’t falter. “I can’t, Cinnamon; I’m sorry.”

“Why not?” I ask, my annoyance kicking up a notch at the way his smile widens.

“Because one A is my seat.”

Maybe in retrospect, I shouldn’t have raised my voice. But come on. My nerves are already shot at the thought of going back to campus, and this guy has been in my way since I set foot at the airport. Luigi couldn’t apologize enough for booking my flights with two different airlines, and then there was customs… I’ve had a long day.

“Bull-shit.” I seethe. “You better?—”

“Is there any problem, sir?” The flight attendant from before is standing right behind me.

“Thank goodness,” I exhale, turning to look at her. “This gentleman,” my tone conveys that I think he’s anything but. “Is in my seat, and he won’t move.”

Jet-lag must be messing with me, or I would have noticed the way the flight attendant is batting her eyelashes at Ryker. There’s no way I can win this argument, but I’m too tired and fed up to realize it.

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