It’s all fun and games in Vegas… until you accidentally marry your best friend.
Last night, I married Jules.
That’s right, I married the girl who thought I had cooties in fourth grade.
Yeah, we drank a few too many shots of tequila. We danced a little too close. But nothing prepared me for the taste of her soft lips.
All of a sudden, we were in a borrowed limo (don’t ask), ripping each other’s clothes off, whispering dirty promises.
Then I was on one knee, asking her to make it forever. And she was saying yes.
This morning, everything changed.
She wants to erase our night. Go back to normal.
Only there’s no more normal. I’m acutely aware of her long legs, her soft curves, her sweet moan.
Mistakes be damned.
She’s my wife. I’m not about to let her go.