Bro Code(10)

We’re back to the silence with a few more miles to go, so I opt for the radio in lieu of more tough questions. Barrett must have had the same idea because my fingers brush his on the dial.

“Sorry.” I pull my hand away and turning back to the window to conceal my blushing cheeks. I’d like to chalk the jolt of electricity between our two hands up to static from the radio, but I can’t lie to myself like that.

I place my fingertips, warm and buzzing, against my bottom lip, wondering if that “trust your gut” advice applies here, too. Because everything inside me is telling me to mount Barrett like a stallion and ride the ever-loving daylights out of him.





Chapter Five


Barrett


I've never been so glad to see a cheesy party store in my life.

Even with the frost creeping up the windows, the truck is getting a little too hot to handle with Ava sitting right next to me. I do my best to act casual, pulling into a parking spot, and ignoring the growing outline in my loose sweatpants while I kill the engine. When Ava reaches for her door, I take the chance to adjust myself so the bulge is less visible, trusting that my jacket will cover up the rest. The cold air is another welcome distraction, and I snag a cart from outside before pushing it in slowly through the door behind Ava. At this point, I need every opportunity for the cold weather to temper down my physical reaction to this woman.

Once inside, we fill the cart with clear glass vases, bouquets of flowers, and some paper lanterns. Ava is efficient and focused, and I'm grateful that this errand isn't going to turn into an all-day affair. Not that I'd mind spending extra time with her, but every second we're alone is one more second I’m berating my dick to behave while silently begging for this woman to get on my cock.

Fucked up, I know.

After we round up everything we need, I roll the cart up to the register and pull out my wallet. Ava is halfway through grabbing her card out of her purse when she catches me.

“You are not paying for this,” she protests. “Just because you have a fancy lawyer job in the city doesn't mean you have to cover everything.”

“That's not why.” I place my card on the counter even as Ava narrows her eyes. “Your dad's always done a lot for me. I just want to give something back.”

She's quiet for a second, thinking it over. I flash her a smile, hoping that a little extra encouragement will tip the scales in my favor. Her parents really have done a lot for me.

“Half.” Ava places her card next to mine. “We'll split it.”

It's not even that much money, but if it makes her feel better, I'm willing to let her win this one. “Alright, deal.”

After we pay I roll the cart back out, and the chill has really set in. A fresh layer of snow blankets the parking lot, covering the windshield of the truck, and there's ice spreading out from the sidewalk out across the asphalt.

What a mess.

“Wait inside,” I say.

“Why?” She hoists the bag in her arms a bit higher, fighting off the chill.

“Because I'm going to load everything up and bring the truck back over. It's wet and cold, which is a recipe for slipping on your ass which I’ve seen you do plenty over your lifetime.”

“And you're immune to slipping on your ass?” Her eyes flicker, meeting mine with a challenge.

“It's easier for me to carry everything at once. I'll do it in one trip and drive the truck back. Three minutes tops.”

“Are you serious right now? You want to carry all eight of these bags? You can drop the macho act.”

She's acting like I'm treating her like a delicate flower, but I'm just trying to be a gentleman. “It's not an act.”

“So, you act like a nineteen-fifties husband with everyone, then?” She puts down her bag, making a grab for her purse instead. “I'll call Nick and ask about that.”

The last thing I want is Nick getting any idea that I'm being sweet on his sister. “Ava, come on. It's freezing out. I'm just trying to help.”

“I'm going to be running a factory full of men,” she counters swiftly, but abandons her search for the phone to look me in the eyes, “I know how to deal with an ego.”

I raise a brow, daring her to continue about the size of my ego, and anger flares across her face before she storms off the sidewalk toward the truck with three bags of streamers and paper plates hanging on her arms over her marshmallow puff coat. Cursing under my breath, I follow close behind her with the rest of the bags. Ava doesn't make it three stomping steps before her shoe slips on a patch of ice, and she topples backwards.

She tries to turn and catch herself, but I'm close enough that she grabs at me for purchase. There's a harsh tug on my sweatpants, and the momentum takes them right down to my ankles, freezing air suddenly whips across my skin. Ava falls all the way to her knees, looking up as I look down. It's cold as hell, but that doesn't stop a blush from rising all the way to her hairline, as she tries to keep her eyes on mine instead of the front of my black boxer briefs.

“You know, if you wanted an encore of last night you could have just asked,” I say, and it's impossible not to grin.

“It was an accident,” she mumbles, clearing her throat as if it will hide the heat on her cheeks. The parking lot is practically abandoned, but the idea of someone seeing us is enough for Ava to break her iron grip on my sweatpants and try to find her bearings on the ice again. I bend to yank my pants back up, grateful that the cold is keeping me in check.