Our second first time

Isabel’s POV

Night has settled over the beach event center. Lanterns sway gently above us, and I flip off my damp pyjamas after a hot shower, the steam still lingering in the air. The day’s celebrations have left us all tired and warmed—so much so that each of us retreated to our rooms early, the firelight and laughter humming in the distance.

Tonight, I’m dressing the bed, running my hands over the soft linen, trying to soothe the lingering ache of a long day, when I pause and wonder: Why did the kids say they wanted to sleep at Aurora’s tonight? Their behavior earlier—it all felt off. When those three get together doing odd things, it usually means they’re planning something.

I scoff, turning away. I know they’ll be back soon—looking for bedtime stories. And I’ll give in. I always do.

A knock interrupts my thoughts. I fold the sheet neatly and head to the door.

Already?” I say with a laugh, expecting Scarlett and Sterling. “Didn’t even take that long and now