Page 45 of The Bro-code

Talking about deer caught in front of headlights, Jagger looks just as stunned as Cole did a second ago. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” he asks.

“He wants you to kiss him,” Tucker howls, causing everyone else to laugh, myself included.

Cole rolls his eyes. “Let’s get this over with. Kiss Bay, so we can all go to the bar and get a drink.”

Cole’s D-man linemate hesitates. He whispers something in Cole’s ear.

I’m not sure what he says exactly but I think he’s asking Cole permission to kiss me.

My best friend nods. “I’m sure.”

“I’m game, as long as it’s ok with Bay.”

Is it ok with me?

The truth is that I’ve never looked at Jagger that way. Jagger is usually the life of the party and we’ve hung out plenty of times because of Cole, but I can’t say I know him more than superficially.

He’s always been kind to me and as far as I can tell, he gets along with everyone in the Gamma house.

He’s also one of the most popular guys on campus. His skills on the ice are legendary and Jagger is always surrounded by women.

I always tease Cole that he and Jagger must have bonded over their love for hookups.

“Fine,” I bite out, looking at Cole and Topher. “Let’s do it. I need that drink too.”

Jagger looks around, as if expecting one of his frat brothers or someone in the crowd to object. “You know what?” he says to Topher. “Since I ended up with your golden chip, I’ll match your donation. It’s for a good cause.”

Ward Crawford looks pleased. “That’s the spirit of the Rush Fair. The Zetas’ chosen charity will be grateful. Come on, let’s do it.”

When Jagger advances toward me, I instinctively take a step back. The wood of the kissing booth stops my retreat and I have nowhere to go.

I lift my face to look at the man I’m about to kiss. I’ve ‘known’ Jagger for three years and I’ve always considered him generally handsome, but now that I really look at him?

My breath catches in my throat. His six foot four frame towers over me and I’ve never been close enough to him to notice how great he smells. It’s something bright and vaguely exotic, like one of those cocktails with the tiny umbrellas. His scent reminds me of sunny days at the beach.

“Bay,” his smile is hesitant, almost as if he wanted to make sure that I’m really ok with this.

I nod, not even thinking about it.

I’m too lost in Jagger’s eyes. I’ve never given any thought to what color they are and now I wonder how I’ve not noticed them before.

The best way I can describe their color is amber or liquid gold. There’s no brown in his bright irises but their warm, golden color is mixed with green specks and shadowed by long, thick lashes.

Like Cole, Jagger is a big guy and when his hand cups my jaw, it covers almost the entire side of my face, his fingers curling over the back of my neck.

The first contact with Jagger’s lips is tentative, almost as if he wanted to give me the chance to change my mind.

When I don’t move away, he presses his lips on mine and I don’t think I’ve ever felt a pair of softer lips before.

To my surprise, Jagger doesn’t immediately try to slip his tongue into my mouth. He takes his time, pressing his lips against mine over and over, testing different amounts of pressure.

I don’t even realize that I’m kissing him back until he takes my top lip between his lips, pulling gently and playing with it. He repeats the movement with my bottom lip and my body reacts to it like it never has before to a simple kiss.

My nipples tighten against the fabric of my bra and my knees feel weak, threatening to buckle under my weight.

I anchor myself to Jagger, grabbing one of his muscular, corded forearms for support.

His skin is warm and soft, covered by a light dusting of blond hair, a couple of tones lighter than the dirty blond of his head.

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