Wedding rules of conduct are interesting things.

The bridesmaids are all pissed that their dresses are ugly, but don’t want to say anything to offend the bride. The groomsmen are worried that their assigned bridesmaid is going to be uglier than fuck, so they don’t want to ask who they are paired with. The bride is worried that her day won’t be perfect, and acts like a bitch. And the groom just wants to move on to the honeymoon so he can fuck his new wife, who has cut him off until after the big day.

Me, I’m worried about the bachelor party. Can’t send my man Chase off into ball-and-chain territory without a proper send-off. I discussed this with the guys and although we didn’t nail a date, I’m certain the big night will take place soon.

The engagement party ended rather early, with so much wedding confusion that no one could take the discussions any longer. Now Amelia and I are standing outside under the awning, waiting for our car to arrive. At least there is only a light rain.

Jingling the change in my pocket, I allow my gaze to slide back to her, and realize my resistance to her feminine wiles is slipping.

It has been.

With each passing tick of the clock and every sip of alcohol, I tried hard to remain in the friend zone I had created in my room.

Amelia just has a way about her, though.

It has become clear that she’s treated like the princess of her family not because she’s a girl, but because she has a magic about her that draws people in, makes them want to please her.

Mesmerizing is the word.

And I saw her do it all night without even knowing she was. The way the waiters refilled her glass before it was even empty. The way the men offered her whatever she needed without hesitation. Even the women were complimenting her on her look—on her dress, her shoes, and her cat eyes.

Like her glittery eyeliner, she just sparkles.

I lean a little closer and run my finger over her lips. “Just brownie crumbs,” I laugh.

She reaches with her hand and our fingers touch, right on her lips.

I clear my throat and shift from foot to foot in the cold. “They’re all gone. I hope you weren’t saving them for later.”

The glow of the dim lights overhead highlight her gorgeous features. “No,” she laughs, “I think there are some Doritos left if I get hungry.”

Like a moth drawn to the flame, I find myself moving closer to her. “Sorry, I ate them all, but I hid a bag of Sour Patch Kids behind the Ritz crackers if you get desperate.”

Her flirtatious behavior is escalating, or maybe it’s mine. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Self-loathing fills me. Cam would want me to look out for her, not try to get inside her. How can I keep ignoring that one simple fact?

“Hey, James, there you are!”

I turn to see Rick, one of the groomsmen, walking toward me.

“Tonight’s the night, man.”

I look at him in confusion.

“Tonight. Is. The. Night.”

The message is now clear. “You want to have the bachelor party tonight?”

“Hell, yeah. Now come on—we have a couple of cars waiting around at the back entrance to take us to the Venetian. Gigi would flip if she knew, so keep it on the DL.”

Amelia steps out of my shadow, and Rick grimaces.

“This is Cam’s little sister. She won’t say anything, man—chill,” I tell him.

Her hand is on my shoulder. “Go ahead, Brooklyn,” Amelia says. “I’ll be fine.”

I’m buzzed, but still I’m shaking my head. The Venetian Gentlemen’s Club is in Anaheim, and me going north while she goes south just doesn’t jive. “Nah, you guys go,” I tell Rick.

“Pussy,” he mutters.

“Shaming me isn’t going to work. You’ve met Cam, and you know he’d kick my ass if I let his little sister go back to my house alone in the rain.”

Amelia makes a small noise of disgust. I don’t dare look at her.

“Then bring her along.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can. In fact, Gigi will be much cooler with this whole thing if she finds out some chick came along to keep Chase in line.”

“I’ll go,” Amelia says, “as long as it’s cool with Chase.”

“He won’t mind,” Rick says.

My neck flips back and forth between the two of them. “Are you sure?” Amelia asks.

Rick is overeager and I’m biting back the urge to punch him. “Yes. Absolutely. Chase is not planning to do anything. Trust me. He’s way too in love with Gigi to risk anything. He’s only going along with this for us guys.”

I blink at Amelia. “I’m not taking you to a strip club.”

“Why not?” she pouts. “It’s not like I haven’t seen tits and ass before. And besides, I’ve been inside a strip club more than once.”

I narrow my eyes at her.

“I have.”

Rick starts walking backward, giving us some privacy. “That’s enough, Amelia,” I say through gritted teeth.

A set of headlights pulls up the circular driveway, and she leans close and whispers into my ear where and why she’s been to a strip club.

Our car pulls up and the guy rolls his window down. “You Brooklyn James?”

“Yeah, just a sec,” I tell him, raising a finger and looking at her. Is she playing me? I have no fucking idea. Either way, I give Rick a slight wave of my hand. “Have fun, buddy. I’ll catch you all the next time.”

Rick is still walking backward. “P-uu-ss-yy,” he calls.

I shake my head. “Fuck you, dude.”

“I’m going with you,” Amelia calls to Rick.

Rick motions to her. “Come on, sweetheart, the cars are waiting.”

My eyes dart to Amelia. “Get in this car. We’re going home.”

Before I can blink, she’s striding toward Rick. “You can go home; I’m going to the strip club.”

I want to scream so loud right now, but instead I reach in my pocket and hand the driver a twenty through the open window. “Looks like we got another ride,” I tell him, “but thanks anyway.”

Hustling, I catch up with Amelia and grab her arm, yanking her toward me. “What the hell are you doing?”

For an endless moment, our eyes lock. Her gray ones more like glittering, shimmering pools of something that looks an awful like trouble. Mine so full of confusion, torn between right and wrong, I find myself having to step back.

Finally, she answers me. “What does it look like I’m doing? Going along so you don’t miss out.”

“I won’t be missing out on anything. Now, let’s go catch another ride.”

“No. Not going to work. I’m still going with Rick.”

“Shit,” I swear under my breath.

“It will be fun,” she says, walking faster to catch up with Rick, and then she turns around and adds, “I promise.”

I’ve heard that before.