You’d barely stepped onto the sand before it started.

The first was some guy at the smoothie stand, giving you a smile way too friendly for someone who just asked what size drink you wanted. Then a group of college boys tried to “accidentally” bump into you near the volleyball net. And then a girl complimented your swimsuit a little too flirtatiously as you walked past.

Minho noticed. Oh, he definitely noticed.

You were laughing as you settled down on the towel next to him, completely unaware of the heat practically radiating off your boyfriend’s body—and not from the sun. Minho narrowed his eyes behind his sunglasses, jaw tight as he watched yet another guy do a double-take while passing by. “Seriously?” He muttered under his breath.

You turned to him, tilting your head. “Hmm?”

He glanced at you, then at your body—your soft body wrapped in the swimsuit he helped you pick out, your curves on full display, glowing in the sunlight. And then he looked away with a pout. “Why are they all looking at you?” He grumbled.

You blinked. “Wait…are you jealous?”

Minho scoffed like it was ridiculous—then frowned. “Yes. Obviously.”

You laughed. “Minho.”

“I swear,” He said, leaning in close, voice low in your ear, “if one more guy checks you out like that, I’m gonna make you sit in my lap the rest of the day. And I will hold your hand in front of everyone. Don’t test me.”

Your cheeks heated at the possessiveness in his tone and the way his hand found your thigh and gripped it firmly.