When Bo saw the pool on the balcony, she insisted everyone come over to our room so they can join us in swimming. She wanted to drink champagne by the city of lights while relaxing in a semi-warm body of water. I wanted to do anything she did. I also wanted to do anything I could to get her alone. It is all I have been trying to do since we left the Marvel Station earlier.

In my whole life, I have never seen someone get excited to put on a bathing suit. It was moments like this I hoped she would realize how small things matter the most. It is the small things in life that make you happier than the bigger ones. You won't be able to travel the world every day. You can find one thing that makes you happier about waking up in the morning, though.

Over the years, I noticed warming up my truck before we got in made her toes curls. Waking her up in the morning with smoothies and blueberries made her smile more than anyone should at eight in the morning. Seeing steel stairs made her shiver with excitement. And bookstores made her eyes widened with childlike wonder.

Sure seeing the different cities from the airplane seats, and watching the sunset from above the clouds, made her feel alive. It wasn't that, though, that made her quiver with liveliness. It was the way she loved lights and had the ability to see a city covered in them. It had nothing to do with the expensive hotel room she didn't want to spend more than an hour in, and everything to do with the idea of getting outside to explore the streets she has never walked on.

"Did you bring anything?" She looked at me as she searched her suitcase for her bathing-suit.

I pointed to the black shorts around my waist. "These."

After the so-called jokes, she projected earlier, in front of everybody. I struggled to get comfortable in my own shorts. John had no problem calling me out every time my dick started to show, and Bo seemed to find it fucking hilarious. I would bow at the feet of whoever decided to invent loose athletic shorts for men. Other than my dickhead of a friend calling me out every two seconds, I did my best at hiding the bulge in my pants as we walked down the strip of Vegas.

My plan to get her alone didn't entail inviting everyone over, but I didn't care. Anything that made her happy was a good plan to me. At the moment, anything I wanted could wait because I would always put her wants first. Not just now, but as long as we are together. Her needs will always come first.

Before I could watch her change, she was disappearing into the bathroom. John and Riley were knocking on the door before she could drop her pants. I didn't have the chance to the color she was choosing to wear. It never stopped me from getting goosebumps at the idea of seeing her in something I never saw before.

"Why the hell didn't I get a pool?" John whined.

"Because you weren't paying attention when you booked your room."

"You know what I can't believe?" he sat down. "That she said yes to marrying you. Not once, but twice."

I shake my head as I bring the bottle of beer to my lips. "Neither can I."

"She is good for you," Riley smiled. "I think she has made a significant change to your attitude."

"Really?" John's eyes widened. "I still think he is an asshole."

"Only when it comes to Bo."

"I revitalized my priorities."

"Your priorities?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "I was an asshole just to be an asshole. Now I am an asshole when someone is an asshole to Bo."

"That is a lot of ass in that sentence," John snickered.

"Well, Bo did tell me I had a dump truck."

He looked up as a noise came from the hotel room. The beer in my mouth emptied into the pool as it poured down my opened my mouth. John yelled at me for being disgusting. I did not fucking care. Seeing Bo in a deep red two-piece did something to me. I felt like my mouth was numb as if I had my wisdom teeth removed again, and I couldn't drink anything without it spilling out.

Her curls were tied up on the top of her head. Small ringlets fell from the elastic. The black band in her hair was unable to hold certain flyways. An x of material crossed her stomach, crossed in the back, and met back in another x below her chest. I couldn't sit still as I looked at her.

"Why is everyone being so quiet?"

"I'm sure Kinnick's thoughts are really loud," John answered Bo's question.

She looked at me with a smile pulling across her lips. Those fucking dimples I loved so much were on full display. A fucking walking maser piece. Until her, I never paid attention to art. I guess there wasn't a painting in the world that could resemble the woman in front of me.

"Are you okay?" Her palm rubbed over my shoulder.

I nodded. "I think so."

"Good," her teeth grazed my ear. "I love you."

"Mhm," I nodded. "I love you."

She turned to John holding out a champagne glass for her. I know he was asking me a question and I was trying to do my best to listen, but she is sitting across from me. Her tongue is swiping the excess alcohol off of her lips as her eyes darken.

Her foot nudged me under the water. "Are you going to answer him?"

"What?"

John grinned as he looked at me. "What do plan on doing now? I feel like you won't come in the gym as often now that you aren't boxing."

I shrugged. "Not sure. I want to take some time to myself."

"What about kids?" Riley asks.

Aside from the small talks of children we had, Bo never made it clear if she wanted any. I know Luke asked her a lot, so she says, and every time she would turn him down. She never told me why other than the fact that the idea of pregnancy scares her. I wondered if there was an underlying problem or issue she had. I tried not to read into it much.

"I want kids," she blurted, catching me off guard. "After settling everything with my dad."

"How is that going?" John furrows his brows.

"I haven't heard much," she sighed. "I know they are going to do an insanity plea."

"How does that work?"

"They have to prove he is incompetent of pleading guilty or not guilty," she played with the glass in her hand. "Which sucks for his team, considering they will have to prove he was allegedly insane during the crime."

"So, he wouldn't be held responsible due to mental reasons."

"Correct. Only if they can prove it."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Well, if he a health expert deems him mentally ill, then he will be sent off to a hospital for help. Personally, I don't care. I don't want him to walk the streets again, but I can't do that if it proceeds as a normal trial."

"Why?" Riley questioned her. "He had false charges."

"Right, but six years is the most he can face since he doesn't have anything on his criminal record," she looks at me. "Unless Kinnick pressed charges, and came forward with a victim impact statement, proving those false allegations ruined his life, then there isn't much I can do."

"He deserves to sit behind closed doors for the rest of his life."

"I agree," she frowned. "I still can't figure out why he had it out for you, though. Why would he go through the trouble to ruin your life?"

"Beats me," I grunt. "The first time I met your dad was in a hospital bed, the night after he said I killed your mom."

"I'll make sure he never sees the world from outside of prison walls," her voice darkened.

"What are you doing to do?" John stared with confusion.

"I don't know but he won't walk the same streets as my kids."

I wasn't sure if I should be turned on or worried, but the second she opened her mouth goosebumps raised on my body. "I'll put a bullet in his head if I have to."