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The Magic Mike show was awesome. Not just because of the talent—damn those guys can move—but also the look I saw on Julien’s face. He was seconds away from hauling me off the stage. I don’t think I would’ve minded.

I get a taste of my own medicine though. Friday night is stripper night, so Magic Mike for Paige’s half and a strip club that allows women in for Adam’s half.

It’s so kitschy, and we aren’t planning to stay long, but when Paige and I were planning my wedding, she would often talk about what she wanted in the future if she ever got married.

She wanted all the stereotypes—Vegas, strip clubs, parties, dancing, drinks, poolside hotel, the works. So that’s what we’ve planned. I’m grateful she and Adam are so similar because I checked with him to see what he was thinking too.

I didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. Turns out, Adam’s wild side is just as cheesy as Paige’s. I love them.

What I do not love is the way these strippers are actively trying to get Julien to interact with them. But he sits there with his arms crossed, glaring at anyone who comes close. Liam sat this one out since Dana wasn’t comfortable with him coming here without her—totally fair—so he went back to the hotel.

I wish Julien had gone with him. I know he wanted to, which makes it a little easier to watch this gorgeous, nearly naked woman practically climbing him. Her slender body is toned and lean, not a scar or a mark on her. My fingers move to brush the marred skin of my stomach like I can wipe the blemishes away.

Keeping my eyes off of them is nearly impossible. Julien is a magnet, and I can’t help but be pulled in. The group is having a blast, though, and the planner in me is thrilled that everything is going how it should. Everyone’s a little tipsy but not drunk—the sweet spot—and having a good time.

Except Julien, but since he fought this in the Google Doc and got outvoted (now he knows how it feels), I knew he’d be suffering through this.

Here’s the thing, as an older sister and a mom, I have these protective instincts. My violent thoughts are no surprise to me. I dare anyone to come after my sister and my son. I’d burn the world down for them.

So when a dancer gropes Julien and he flinches, my hands ball into fists at my sides and I attempt to make my way over there, ready to deck her.

Arms snake around my waist as Adam hauls me away.

“Do you want to get arrested?” he hisses in my ear.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I seethe, my jaw clenched tightly .

He laughs. “Alright, momma bear, let’s pretend you weren’t about to start throwing hands. Julien can handle himself.”

He jerks his head towards Julien’s seat, but he’s gone. I whirl around to find him sitting at the bar, drink in hand. He’s as far away from the action as possible.

“She touched him when he didn’t want it,” I explain.

“I know.”

We’re in a dark corner where no one can see us. Adam stares down at me, bracing his hands on my arms. “You okay?”

“Yes.”

He huffs. “Liar.”

He gives me a knowing look, scanning my face to make sure it’s safe. I roll my eyes and nod. When he lets go, he beams, light dancing in his blue eyes as he waggles his brows. I know he knows everything that’s happened between me and Julien—Paige has told him everything. With as much dignity as I can muster, I turn my back and stomp over to my seat to wait out our time here.

Julien doesn’t come back to his spot, staying at the bar for the next hour. The heat of his exploration burns the back of my neck, my body, but I don’t turn around.

An eternity later and I’m exhausted when we head back to the hotel. I make sure to take a different Uber than Julien, not sure if I’d be able to control myself in this state. I’m tipsy, irritated, and so fucking turned on I can’t see straight.

Not a recipe for good decisions.

Back in my hotel room with the door locked and deadbolt in place (like I think that will stop me from searching out Julien), I flop down on my bed in my big fluffy robe, so comfy and warm after my shower.

My skin feels too tight, though, and I can’t get comfortable no matter how hard I try. I’m buzzing, alive with too many feelings. It’s a good thing Paige reminded me to bring my vibrator.

Smart woman, my sister.

I may have printed an hour-by-hour itinerary that we will absolutely adhere to this weekend, but I’m not cruel. We have plenty of scheduled relaxation time. And since the race is Sunday morning, I packed most of the taxing activities into yesterday’s schedule.

Today is a bit more chill.

The only thing I have to worry about is Paige and Adam getting the bright idea to sneak off and get married while we’re here.

I told her in no uncertain terms if she did that, she would pay for it for the rest of her life.

Hence why I’ve kept us so busy so far.

Considering how exhausted we were last night, sitting poolside after a late-morning sleep in was the perfect activity to start the day. Pool fun, followed by a poolside lunch before we head to our next surprise.

Unsurprisingly, I’m the first to arrive.

I grab a bunch of chairs, laying my stuff out so our group can all sit together when they meander down. Simon and Jake were eating breakfast, so I know at least they’ ll be here soon.

That’s okay. I needed a minute to check my emails and figure out a few last-minute calculations for—

“Hey!” I yell when someone snatches my phone from my hand.

I look up to see a familiar head of dark, curly hair towering over me.

“You’re on vacation,” Julien mutters as he glares at my phone like it’s to blame for my inability to relax.

“No one was here,” I huff. “Give me my phone back.”

“No.” He sets up on the lounge chair beside me, dragging it as close as he can get. When he sits down, I take him in, feeling safe behind my dark sunglasses. He’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt—big surprise there—and a bathing suit, the shorts shorter than I would’ve expected.

They ride high on his thighs and my mouth dries right out. I’ve obviously seen him in shorts lots of times while running, but I’m usually trying too hard not to die to truly appreciate his legs.

His corded, defined thighs are covered in a dusting of dark hair. They’re long and powerful and definitely more flexible than the average man’s. His light brown skin soaks up the sun around us, casting him in this golden glow.

I want to run my hands right to—yup, there it is. The outline of his ... How do the old romance novels put it? Manhood. His manhood already strains against his shorts. How much can a woman take before she loses all sense of self-preservation?

Because I think I’m rapidly approaching the limit.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he growls.

“Like what?” I say innocently. “You can’t even see my eyes. ”

“I don’t have to.” He shoots me a knowing look. “You’re going to make it uncomfortable to be around other people.”

My laugh is full and uninhibited. “What’s the difference? You’re always uncomfortable around other people.”

He doesn’t say anything, but the twitch of his mouth shows me he knows I’m right.

“Can I have my phone back, please?” I try to make my voice soft and flirty. At least, I hope that’s what flirty is supposed to sound like.

He laughs, and I watch the planes of his face change from harsh and scowly to playful and happy. His beard is thick but shorter than the last time I saw him. He must’ve trimmed it after the playoffs were over.

“You’re evil,” he whispers, turning to face me and leaning close. “But two can play this game.” He pockets my phone and lowers his sunglasses, giving me a view of his intense, dark eyes. “If you want it, come and get it.”

He’s serious. And flirting. This is definitely flirting.

I take in his features, searching for signs that he’s joking. He’s going to pull my phone out of his pocket any moment and hand it back to me with another devastating smile.

Except he doesn’t.

Oh, he wants to play? I’ll play.

I slide out of my lounge chair, undoing the tie on my wrap sundress. Letting it fall open, I reveal my swimsuit. Flashes of the woman who danced on him last night flit through my mind and I try to banish them. It’s easier given how he’s looking at me. Even with his sunglasses on, I can see his jaw straining. My bathing suit is not super skimpy per se—the high-waisted design covers my scars and stretch marks, but it cuts quite high on my ass, showcasing the dips on my sides. I feel pretty sexy with this plunging neckline in a deep green colour, bringing out the colour in my eyes.

Removing my sunglasses slowly, I keep my eyes glued to his and take one step towards him before placing a knee on his chair, swinging my other leg over to straddle him.

His eyes rake over me, taking in my curves, soft but strong. I feel the way it caresses me, giving me more confidence. My dress falls off my shoulders as I inch up his body, hands tracing his chest.

When I’m right over his hips, I hover, practically on my hands and knees.

He sucks in a breath as I lean down, my full breasts almost spilling out of my top. I watch his throat bob as he swallows, a muscle feathering in his jaw. If there’s one thing I’m not self-conscious about, it’s my boobs. I’ve got great boobs.

I drag a hand down his chest, wishing I was touching his skin. When I reach the spot where his shirt overlaps with his bathing suit, I linger, playing with the fabric, running my fingers across the waistband.

My touch burns where I connect with skin. I can’t help it—I trace the lines of his hip bones, feeling the tantalising V of his muscles. I smirk, seeing the evidence of what I’m doing straining against his shorts.

I keep moving my hands, leaning closer to his face so our lips are a breath apart. He doesn’t notice when I slide my hand into his pocket and grab my phone until I wrench away, standing abruptly and doing a little happy dance.

“Got it!” I say with a bright smile.

He looks like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on his head, his eyes widening with shock as the fog of lust clears.

“Evil, evil woman,” he mutters, adjusting himself in his bathing suit.

I giggle, dashing away as he gets up. I toss my phone onto my chair because he has revenge written all over his beautiful face. Uh-oh.

He charges at me, and before I can even scream, his body collides with mine as he tackles me into the pool.

Perfect temperate water shocks my system, but Julien doesn’t keep me down long. Thank god, because I barely got half a breath in before we went under. He pushes me up to the surface and I inhale, gasping for breath, still stunned.

He’s up beside me half a second later, shaking his curls out, splashing me with water.

“You’re a goner,” I laugh, splashing him back, launching myself at him.

He catches me easily, wrapping his arms around me, bringing me in close.

“Yes, I am.”