"Please stop talking, I don’t want to know," I cried, pressing my forehead in the crack between his upper arm and ribs.

"What don't you want to know?" Sacha's voice asked from behind me.

Turning my head to look at him, I saw he was already wearing a bright red hoodie. I grimaced in his direction. "Eli wants to get laid, and I don't want to know about it."

He smiled. Miles and Carter were trailing behind him, pulling along their own suitcases. "I don't blame you." His eyes swept over me huddling into my brother. A frown came over his mouth. "Where's your jacket?"

"I didn't bring one," I said, wrinkling my face. "No one told me it was cold here."

Sacha didn't even hesitate, unzipping his hoodie, dropping his backpack to the floor and pulling free from the sleeves. "Here," he said, holding it out in my direction. "I don't want you getting sick." The right side of his mouth lifted in a soft smile.

Bless this wonderful, sweet, thoughtful man.

"Thank you!" I slipped that sucker on faster than I put on my bra after a shower in a cold room. The inside was already warm from his body heat and it had that distinct clean scent that I associated with him. It was two sizes too big, but I couldn't have cared any less.

He nodded at me, crossing his arms over his chest. The dark, thick tattooed bands on his arm popped against the simple white of his shirt and the gray of his sweat pants. He was way too good-looking for his own good, and I think that the fact he was so casual about it, so indifferent to his shockingly striking face, added to his appeal.

"You aren't cold?" I asked, being a perv and eyeing his nipples to see if they had perked up.

"Nah. This isn't that cold."

"Excuse me." I mocked him, rolling my eyes playfully. “But seriously, thank you. You’re a real gentleman.”

He just stood there, not warning me of the hard arm that wrapped around my neck a second later, squeezing down on my windpipe. "Go to sleep, Gaby," Eli's voice chuckled in my ear, reminding me of when we were younger and he would practice his wrestling moves. He used to practice the “sleeper hold” on me all the time in hopes he could make me pass out. I tried tipping my mouth down to bite his arm before he pulled away, giving my earlobe a yank in the process.

The honk of a vehicle made us all turn around. A big, white van pulled up alongside the curb with a trailer hitched to it; a young guy jumped out, immediately going toward Sacha. He introduced himself as Vince, the promoter for the Australian tour, and wrangled us into the van with all of our crap. I ended up sitting between Carter and Gordo on the ride to our hotel.

Australia reminded me of what most Americans pictured Texas to be. Texas wasn't cattle and cowboys, like Perth, Australia, wasn't kangaroos and koalas on every corner.

Vince told all of us where we could eat nearby, what places to stay away from, and other stuff I was too distracted to listen to. We pulled into a decent-looking hotel, and Julian pulled my suitcase out of the back for me. The promoter got us all our room keys, and I found that our rooms were on different floors. Half of us were on the first floor while the other half were on the second floor.

On the way to drop off our luggage, I realized I was on the same floor as Mason, Gordo, Julian and Carter.

“You sure you don’t want to share a room?” Mason asked as we both stood at our respective hotel room doors, sliding our keycards through.

Propping the door open with my foot, I nodded. “Positive.” Idiot.

“If you change your mind…”

“I’ll go sleep with Gordo.”

His mouth flattened and he blinked those beautiful blue eyes at me. “I can wait until our wedding night if you want.”