Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“That’s ridiculous,” I tell him. “You’re overthinking this, Bry. First, that top-grade rock alone would earn you an instant yes. Second, she loves you so much you could propose with a cereal-box toy ring and she’d still say yes.”
“You could’ve led with the ‘she loves me’ part instead of the ‘she’s going for the diamond size’ part,” Bryan says, half smiling.
I laugh. “I stand by my words. And you know it. These are just proposal jitters, big brother. From what I’ve seen, this place is perfect—a ski chalet in the mountains is a ten out of ten on the romance scale. Plus, I’ve heard you two tossing around baby names and even preschool options. She’s ready to settle down, and you’re her guy. Now, where’s this suite so I can get horizontal ASAP?”
Bryan laughs. “Don’t let your suitemates hear you talk like that.”
“Why? Who are they?” I ask, suddenly suspicious.
“You remember the Anderson triplets?” Bryan says.
His innocent question, tossed out as if it were completely irrelevant, hits me like a runaway train. It feels like a kick to the gut, and I fight not to double over. I brace a hand against the wall, the cold marble grounding me.
“The Anderson triplets,” I say under my breath.
“Clearly, you remember them,” Bryan says, amusement coloring his voice. “They were always over at the house—”
“I was there, yes,” I assure him.
The problem isn’t that I forgot Bryan’s three best friends—it’s that I’ve spent far too much time remembering them. The last time I saw them, I was in high school, and I couldn’t wait to be a woman so they’d look at me differently.
Here I am—a woman with a few boyfriends in the rearview and a heart hungry for more.
I never forgot the gorgeous, fun-loving guys my brother spent most of his youth with. I had a massive crush on them—not just on one, but on all three. They were identical, yet each had his own quirks.
I could tell them apart only because I’d spent years studying their subtle differences. I used to make up any excuse I could to be in the room when they were around. I even taught myself to play Grand Theft Auto just to share the same couch with them—elbow to elbow in deliciously cramped quarters.
“I’m going to be sharing a suite with…”
“The triplets,” Bryan finishes for me. “Is that okay?”
“It’s fine,” I say, my voice higher than I’d like. “I haven’t seen them in years, but we’ll pick up right where we left off. I just want a shower.”
“And then get horizontal?” Bryan says with a grin.
“Yes, sir,” I say.
“Here it is.” He points to a doorway across the hall.
I swipe the keycard, holding my breath the whole time.
“Let me take your bags inside for you,” Bryan says.
“I’ve got them,” I say. “You’ve done enough—I don’t want to bother you anymore.”
“It’s not a bother,” he says.
I step inside the suite, barely registering any of the decor. It’s open concept, with three plush leather couches curved around a massive wall-mounted TV. In the back, a full-sized kitchen with marble countertops is tucked behind an island and four bar stools. Four doors branch off to what must be separate bedrooms; only one stands open.
“That must be mine,” I say.
Bryan brushes past me to haul my luggage into the open bedroom. But I hang back, eyeing the three other doors and the triplet treasure hidden behind them. How am I supposed to survive an entire vacation with the three hottest men on the planet?
2
MAKAYLA
Igive Bryan a good-night hug before he finally leaves me for the night.
“Thanks for everything, Bry.”
“Don’t mention it, Kay. I’m glad you’re here,” he says.
“Me, too. Just tell me there’s a Swedish buffet involved for breakfast in the morning.”
He chuckles. “You’re going to love it.”
Once he’s gone and I’m left alone, I take a moment to settle into the space and my new circumstances.
If I’m lucky, I’ll get a few hours of sleep before my suitemates wake up. I duck into my bedroom and discover that it’s everything I’d hoped for. There’s plenty of space. I grab my laptop bag from the suitcase and place it on the desk. I’m out of a job, so I’m not even sure why I brought it.
“I can still hunt for jobs,” I mutter, refusing to consider anything I brought with me as dead weight.
I head for the shower after, desiring to get clean from all the unavoidable musty airplane odor. Knowing that the triplets are so close gets me all fired up. I’ve been stressed out for nearly twenty hours; I deserve to savor the news.
I turn on the shower and undress, standing in front of the mirror and giving myself a once-over.
I’m curvy in all the right places. My hair is a tangled mess right now, but a thorough wash and a heavy dollop of conditioner will fix that. The moment the hot water hits my skin, a wave of pleasure sweeps through me. It feels so good. I let out a long sigh, closing my eyes to better appreciate the sensation.