Page 61 of Sour Notes

“So excited. You did good, bro! Santorini is stunning.”

Well, that part isn’t a lie at least.

Nick was adamant that he wanted to get married on the cliffs of Santorini and stay at a famous luxury cave hotel. I thought he would be booking the hotel for their honeymoon, but instead he’s paid for us all to stay here.

The hotel only has thirteen suites, and usually it’s shut down in November because it’s considered off-peak and gets a little colder, but Nick’s friends with the GM. Apparently, it pays to know people in high places.

Before he moved to the UK, he’d done really well for himself working on Wall Street—think Wolf of Wall Street with way less drama—and he’s still doing the same work, only in London.

This place isn’t cheap. I looked it up when he’d first mentioned it and I almost collapsed at the price of a room for a week, so fuck only knows how much he’s paying to privately book it.

Maybe my twin's a closeted millionaire or some shit. Should I be offended I had no idea?

For the next couple weeks, we’ll feel like movie stars, having this whole place to ourselves. And, of course, lucky bastard that he is, the weather's unseasonably warm, so location alone makes what I’m about to go through worth it.

That might change when I come face to face with the toxic toad, but right now, two weeks in paradise sounds like just what the doctor ordered.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I missed you, Mimi.” Squeezing me tightly one last time, he drops a kiss on my forehead before his arm falls away to root through his pockets.

“I’m so glad you guys could make the trip. Layla can’t wait to see you.” He hands me a white plastic keycard. “Here’s your room key. I’ve also allocated you one of the pool beds to watch the sunset tonight so meet us out there at seven. That cool?”

“Sir, yes Sir.” I army salute him with a grin.

“Brat.” He sticks his tongue out and just like that we’re teenagers again.

“So what’s the plan while we’re here?”

Pleeeeeease say it’s a super chill, low key, activity attendance optional.

“The itinerary for the rest of the trip is in your room. Promise I made sure to leave some downtime, too. Plus, I picked a very special activity we’ll be doing just for you…”

Itinerary. Goddammit.

Nick grins mischievously before his gaze shifts over my shoulder. His eyes harden when they land on Swayze, who’s been standing silently behind me this whole time.

Well, that’s new.

Nick’s looking a little murderous, which is totally unlike him, especially with Swayze. These two were best friends growing up. He’s the best man, for fuck’s sake.

“Swayze.” He stands up straight, squaring his shoulders rigidly, his tone cool, almost clipped.

“Nicholas,” Swayze volleys back.

“What’s this I hear about you fucking my sister, ‘Ze? Please tell me mom was talking out of her ass?”

“Uhh, no.” Swayze steps right up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my head.

Oh shit. For a second, I totally forgot about our grand plan. Crying over the ex would’ve looked ridiculous when we’re supposed to be coupled up. Lucky one of us hasn’t dropped the ball.

Nick studies us both. The trademark easy grin falls away, his jaw setting so tight it looks ready to snap. Oh boy, he’s mad. Definitely madder than when I stole his favorite GI Joe to marry my Barbie, then lost him.

“Niko—”

“Don’t Niko me, Mia. This is between me and Swayze.”

Excuse me? Not a fucking chance, brother. That patriarchal bullshit doesn't fly with me.

“No, actually it’s between me and Swayze. The cock I choose to fuck is absolutely none of your concern whatsoever, so do you want to try that again, Nicholas?”