What’s Vegas known for? Casinos, parties, endless drinks, and… quick weddings.

Soap had been saving up for this trip for ages, driven by some strange fascination with spending a week in Vegas. But there was no way he was going alone. Naturally, he roped in Gaz and Ghost for the “vacation” of a lifetime.

Every night was a whirlwind—parties, casinos, clubs, more alcohol than they’d normally touch in a month. For Ghost, it was uncharted territory. But for once, he allowed himself to relax, just a little.

Then… things got hazy. He remembered fragments of the night before, but the memories were tangled, slipping out of reach. The headache hit first when he opened his eyes, along with the realization that something was… off. There was lace draped over his face. Slowly, he lifted it—a pair of panties. His mask lay forgotten on the floor.

Then he heard it, the quiet rhythm of breathing next to him. He turned his head, and there you were, asleep in his hotel bed. What the hell happened last night?

Ghost’s mind reeled as he tried to piece it together. He remembered Soap dragging him and Gaz to yet another club, remembered the drinks… and you. You’d caught his eye on the dance floor, and for the first time in ages, something had actually made him pause. Even though he’d just met you, you’d taken his breath away.

But after that? He rubbed a hand over his face, fighting through the fog in his mind. There were flashes—talking, drinking together, leaving the club in a daze. He could barely string the memories together.

Then it hit him. Panic jolted through him as he glanced down at his hand. A gold ring gleamed on his finger. He looked over at you, still fast asleep in his bed.

Fuck.