Page 93 of The Bro-code

We come from similar backgrounds and we both have dreams to better ourselves and to make it big.

Hockey is his card to a different life and my social media empire is mine. We didn’t grow up with money and privilege like Topher and Jagger, we earned everything we had by working our asses off and grabbing every opportunity that came our way. I’m not saying that people born in affluent families don’t work hard to achieve their goals, but let’s face it, some doors are waiting for them to walk through wide open. Money is never an issue if they want to attend a certain school. They don’t get what it means to have those opportunities presented to them on a silver platter.

But the reason why Cole and I are best friends goes beyond our similar backgrounds.

We laugh at the same jokes, we are dog people and we both plan to have puppies one day, way before we ever consider having children.

We would do anything for the people we care about and are fiercely protective of them. In an ideal world, Cole would be my other half, my perfect match. If he felt attracted to me, that is.

I know unfortunately he doesn’t feel that way about me. I had that hunch many times in the past but what happened at the rush fair a couple of weeks ago, cemented that awareness in me.

So when I rest my head on his chest, the feeling that invades me is bitter sweet. I melt against him, listening to his heartbeat.

I feel safe, I feel home.

And at the same time, my body is on fire at the feeling of his warm skin under the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

His clean, sexy scent makes me want to see if he tastes as good as he smells and my nipples harden, straining against my dress.

The way his big, strong hands curl around my waist, pulling me close, could be interpreted as friendly, but we’re dancing so close that I’m hyper aware of his lean, muscular hips. I can feel the definite bulge in his jeans and my body reacts again.

I’m wet, so fucking wet.

I close my eyes, listening to the slow beat of a song I don’t even know and my imagination runs wild.

What would happen if Cole cupped my jaw with his big, slightly rough hand and rather than just looking into my eyes like he’s done countless times, he lowered his head and touched his lips to mine?

I would kiss him back.

I would hold myself tighter to him, exploring his chest and stomach with my hands. I would beg him to take me to his room and to take my dress off me.

God, I want him so much.

I’ve seen Cole shirtless countless times and I would lick every ridge, every line of his six pack of muscles.

I would beg him to kiss me everywhere. I want to feel his soft lips on my skin.

I envy every woman he has ever hooked up with.

They got to touch him, taste him, feel him inside their bodies.

I clench my thighs together at the thought of how big Cole is. I haven’t seen him completely naked, but we napped together a few times and I’ve felt him getting hard in his sleep.

As if he knew how much I need him, Cole pulls me even closer, so that there’s no space between our bodies.

A gush of liquid heat makes me rub my thighs together, desperate for some relief.

I never had the chance to put on any panties after Jagger ripped mine in the locker room shower.

I had promised Cole to be his ride home after the game and some of his teammates joined us. The second we got home they went straight to the kitchen, hungry for their victory chili and I forgot to go to my room and replace my underwear.

Now this is bliss and torture at the same time.

I would give anything to feel his fingers under my skirt, exploring me, touching me the way I want him to.

I don’t even know when my feelings for Cole started changing. I’ve always thought he was hot, but at the beginning of my relationship with Topher, I really only had eyes for my boyfriend.

Dating Topher meant hanging out at the Gamma house all the time, and Cole and I hit it off and became friends.

---