“How do you mean?” I took off my Rolex and multi-colored Versace shirt, heading to one of the bathrooms. I needed to throw up and take a shower to feel human again. Nina had called me multiple times during the short flight—fifty? Sixty? I stopped counting—leaving several voice messages I didn’t bother listening to.

The shit with Trent had reminded me of how much I needed to stay away from her and him, even if curiosity burned every bone in my goddamn body. It just wasn’t fair, and even though my dad was right—life isn’t fair—I was the one to call the shots on this one, and my decision was to never meet him or her.

And that decision was fucking final.

“They’re going to be here in Vegas. Rosie changed the plans at the last minute. They’ll be staying at this hotel.”

I pivoted, brushing a finger over my lower lip.

“Baby LeBlanc is in Sin City?”

Vicious let loose a malicious grin, scanning me with his cold, dead eyes. “Will be in two hours. They took the next flight in. Why, what the fuck are you going to do about it, man?”

“Whatever she’ll let me.” I kicked my shoes off.

“Make Rosie run it by Emilia first.” He threw a soft pack of Marlboros we used for the blunts—and missed—purposely. “I know Em doesn’t give half a fuck about you, but I don’t want her feeling betrayed by her sister.”

Jaime strolled into the vast space from one of the bathrooms before I had the chance to inform Vicious that I neither answer to his ass nor to Millie’s.

“Trent is going to be a little fucked-up after this.” Jaime sighed, picking up the discarded Marlboros.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” Vicious turned on his heel, walking away from the room, probably to get into the shower himself. Jaime bumped his shoulder into mine, unscrewing a bottle of water and bringing it to his lips.

“Does he know you’re fucking his girl’s sister?”

“What gave it away, Sherlock?” I snagged the Marlboros from his hand and texted my guy in Las Vegas simultaneously, asking him for weed ASAP. Even if I wasn’t going to smoke, it wasn’t fair to deprive Jaime and Vicious of their favorite pastime.

Jaime plopped down on the arm of the plush, white sofa and took another sip of his water.

“Talk about Captain Obvious. Besides, you eye-fucked her at the rehearsal dinner when no one was looking. It was subtle, which means you actually give a damn about what she thinks about you.” He paused, his eyebrows dropping down. “But I paid close attention, so even though you tried to hide it, I still saw it. You wanted to bend her against the table and fuck her raw with her face pressed against someone else’s entrée.”

Thank you, Jaime. I was going to pin that thought and tuck it into my spank bank for a rainy day.

“Is she worth the hassle?” Jaime cocked his head sideways, lifting one eyebrow. I patted his shoulder. Fucking adorable, this guy was.

“She is the hassle.”

“Happy for you, bro. It’s been a while since you were occupied with something other than booze and work.” He grinned. “But we still need to talk about the potential complications. Last time Vicious and you went head-to-head, you compromised Fiscal Heights Holdings in the process. I won’t let it happen again.”

Refraining from correcting him—I didn’t go head-to-head with Vicious, he hired and slept with my ex-girlfriend without my knowledge after separating us while we were kids—I blinked, showing him that his words were barely acknowledged. I was always under control, and Fiscal Heights Holdings never suffered. Most importantly, no one—no goddamn exceptions—was going to come between me and what I wanted.

My phone was out of my pocket again, this time texting her.

Dean

What room will you be staying in?

Rosie

One where you’re not welcome. We need to keep it platonic.

That would be a definite no. That was like settling for looking at a mouthwatering cheesecake without ever eating it. I was going to eat it again and again and a-motherfucking-gain. Shit, I was going on a binge.

Dean

Don’t be cute. We’ve already established that we’re happening. Now you’re just punishing me for dating your sister. Tell me I’m wrong.

She didn’t answer. Of course, she didn’t. She was hot for me. More than that. She was hot for all of me—not just my body—and the feeling was mutual. What we shared yesterday? It wasn’t something that happened with a Kennedy or a Natasha. Fuck, it didn’t even happen with Emilia. Rosie and I were connected by an invisible fuse. Even when I was dating her sister. Even when she had a boyfriend and lived downstairs and I was ten floors up boning my way into some kind of a record. I couldn’t wait for the second we exploded, because when we did…fireworks. The sparks were already there. She could bullshit me all she wanted, but she felt it, too.

Dean

Fucking going to devour you, Baby LB.

Rosie

DEAN. Change of subject. Fun fact about astronomy?

Dean

The Milky Way is whirling rapidly at approximately 100 million km per hour, and you’re about to get my milk splashed in your cunt. Music?

Rosie

Your heartbeat mimics the beats of the music you’re listening to. Dean Cole is not that wrong about his theory regarding my sister. He would have to work hard for a repeat.

I closed our text conversation and opened a new one with Sydney, who I knew from high school, asking her to give me all the deets. When they were going to land and settle into rooms, what their schedule was like. I told her not to share it with anyone, because we were planning a surprise for Millie.

When really, I was planning a surprise for Rosie.

I was going to eat my cake, and keep it. Impossible? Just watch.

God bless Sydney Whatshername.

Even though I was oblivious to her existence back when we were in high school (the only reason I had her number was because Millie opened a special text group for people who attended the rehearsal dinner), in Vegas she quickly became one of my favorite people. For one thing, Sydney told me where the girls would be that night. Since Vicious didn’t want any strippers at his party (he always hated people, and especially people who tried to touch him. Besides, he was a bastard, but a loyal one), we were all planning to go to a fancy restaurant and hit the casino until morning.

I figured we could crash the club they were going to after that Britney Spears show. Weren’t the dancers humping one another the whole time? Thank you, Ms. Spears, for prepping my girl’s libido for our late-night escapade.

It didn’t surprise me that Rosie brought her fucking A-game to the table and burnt it down with ace after ace. While the men were drinking and smoking in the presidential suite, talking about Trent with shitty porn playing in the background like we were fucking sixteen, Rosie had somehow managed to take the girls on a special cupcake adventure, a tour of a famous tattoo shop, a Jacuzzi party, and a show.

I knew all that info because Sydney Motherfucking LastnameIcantremember gave me hourly updates, assuming Emilia, the bride, was in for a pleasant surprise. And she was. I was going to bring her groom along with me. But my intentions were purely selfish—I was after her younger sister.

“You should probably let Vic know before he loses his shit,” Jaime said to me when I got out of the shower, ironing the collar of his crisp shirt in front of the spotless, floor-to-ceiling mirror. I chuckled, dropping the towel and stepping into my boxers. Jaime had seen my dick so many times, he could probably recognize it in a police lineup with a hundred more suspects. Our football days meant we were all comfortable with each other. Too comfortable, maybe.

“Let him know what?” I played dumb. Vicious already knew, but I liked fucking with my friends as much as the next HotHole. “Are you talking about the Erickson-Estavez deal?” We were working with two giant engineering companies on the verge of merging together, and Vicious stayed out of the loop, with his upcoming wedding and all. Out of the four of us, Jaime and I were probably the hardest workers. Jaime, because he was just a responsible little shit who had to get everything right and perfect. Me, because I had no kids or other responsibilities, so drowning in numbers and initiating business calls with Asia and Australia in the middle of the night were sacrifices I was happy to make.

“He’s drafting the Erickson-Estavez contract as we speak. You know exactly what. More specifically who—I’m talking about.”

“He knows, and he’s okay with it, but even if he wasn’t, it’s my life, and it’s my business,” I reminded him, shrugging into my navy dress shirt, buttoning the cuff links and adding, “Also, last time I checked, he was the very person to try to steal my girlfriend from under my nose when we were still together, including—but not limited to—kissing Millie while we were dating. Just to be on the safe side of being a full-blown dick, he kissed Rosie, too. So, really, other than trying to shove his tongue into my mom’s mouth, he pretty much tainted all the women I care for.” Saved for Payton and Keeley, my sisters. Truth was, Keeley had told me one drunken night that Vicious made out with her when we were juniors. It definitely gave me a little shove as far as my morals went when it came to pursuing Millie.

If nothing else, my little speech zipped Jaime’s mouth. Rosie was fucking mine. Every part of her. From the tips of her toes to the baby fine hair on the top of her head. Every single bit was going to be claimed and marked. And the beautiful thing was that no one had a say in this shit. No one but Rosie herself.

“Here’s the address to the club.” I threw my phone with the Yelp app into Jaime’s hands, and he caught it mid-air. “Call the limo service downstairs. I’ll go make sure Vic is ready.”

“Dean.” Jaime grabbed my wrist as I turned to walk through the door to get my pants.

“Baby,” I purred into his face, smirking. “I know I’m irresistible, but I’m sure Mel is more flexible, with that ballerina background and all.” Jaime narrowed his eyes at me and threw my wrist like it was dirt.