Note to self – do not bang your best guy friend in the limo on the way to the swanky Vegas hotel.
I give myself very good advice. Too bad I suck at taking it.
If only Colin and I hadn’t drunk so much whiskey, if only I’d kept that red bikini in my suitcase, if only his evil ex-girlfriend hadn’t come sniffing around making me feel territorial and protective.
Not that my bad boy rock star best friend is any help. Walking around looking ridiculously sexy, telling me I’m perfect in that panty-melting voice of his when we both swore we’d never do anything to put our friendship at risk. And Colin never breaks a promise.
But then, he has no idea I’ve secretly been in love with him for years.
I guess I should just enjoy the ride, but I can’t stop thinking about what happens with this vacation ends and I head home alone, nursing one hell of a bangover….