Page 14 of The Bro-code

Maybe it’s the frustration stemming from the lack of closure after I narrowly missed my ex’s head with that trophy; maybe it’s because, deep down, I felt an immediate attraction to Ryker, to the point that every time his eyes land on me, I feel the air between us crackling with electricity, but I can’t stop myself.

The worst part is that I know how childish and rude I sound when the words leave my mouth. “The way I see it, you owe me a cinnamon roll. So I guess we’re even.”

I almost want him to say something rude or aggressive, so I can keep arguing with him.

Instead, he smiles, making my pulse quicken with an equal mixture of fury and lust.

“I suppose you’re right,” he concedes, those blue eyes refusing to leave mine. “But since the ice has been broken, I don’t suppose I earned the privilege of you telling me your name?”

I’d say he definitely has, but again, the urge to keep antagonizing him is too strong to resist. “Ha. Not even close.”

To my chagrin, he looks more amused than pissed off. “Is this how you want to play it? Fine by me. I have five and a half hours to wear you down. By the time we get to Star Cove, I’ll have you eating out of the palm of my hand, Cinnamon.”

I make my most disgusted face. “Eww. I don’t even want to think about how unsanitary that sounds. And why the heck do you keep saying Cinnamon?”

“Since you refuse to tell me your name, that’s how I refer to you.”

If he couldn’t look anymore annoyingly handsome, he winks.

Fuck this.

My response is to free my hair from its tight ponytail, open the night kit in my seat pocket, and to don the eye mask in it. “Whatever. Good night.”

RYKER

What’s wrong with women these days that they don’t appreciate a chivalrous gesture?

Cinnamon covers her gorgeous eyes with the airline’s eye mask and is fast asleep by the time the seatbelt sign is turned off.

She all but brushed off the fact that I gave her my seat when I really didn’t have to and now is sleeping with her long blonde hair fanned out on the airline’s pillow and her delicate, perfectly manicured hands resting peacefully right under the swell of her perfect tits.

I can’t take my eyes off of her, and I can’t help the thought that comes to my mind. She looks like a Disney princess, waiting for her Prince Charming to come to wake her from her slumber.

If I were her Prince Charming, I know exactly how I’d wake her, and let me tell you, I’d corrupt the hell out of her.

Cinnamon doesn’t even wake up when dinner is served. The first class menu tonight offers filet mignon with roasted asparagus and a cheese and herbs potato fondant.

Dessert is a chocolate fudge brownie, and since my favorite travel companion doesn’t wake up, the flirty flight attendant offers me seconds. Don’t mind if I do.

With the intense conditioning the Heroes athletic team put me through this summer, I’m definitely not watching my figure.

After browsing through the inflight entertainment selection, I can’t settle on anything to watch. My attention is more often than not stolen by the way Cinnamon’s pouty lips flutter in her sleep from time to time; it’s as if she was whispering a secret, and I would love to catch whatever it is. She intrigues me that much.

After the dinner dishes are cleared up, the crew dims the cabin lights. We have to report to the ice rink to meet Coach Harrison tomorrow morning at eight am sharp, so I think I’ll take a page from Cinnamon’s book and take a cat nap.

I’ll get her to tell me her name before we land; that’s my resolution before I cover my eyes with the sleep mask in my kit.

My preference, of course, would be to get her to follow me to the bathroom, lock the door, and get her to scream my name instead. Who knows, maybe I’ll have the chance to see her again if Star Cove is her destination and not just a stopover.

The cabin is dark and silent.

Even the rowdy soldiers who got the upgrade are all either fast asleep or watching movies quietly.

I’m the only one who can’t sleep because of her.

I’ve never had any trouble getting women to notice me. The only reason why I’ve never had a girlfriend after sophomore year in high school is because I don’t want one. Hookups, however? Let’s just say that while I don’t kiss and tell, my skills on the ice aren’t the only ones I’ll be remembered for in Hemlock Grove.

I take my mask off and accept defeat; I’m not gonna be able to sleep.

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