I pulled his face to mine again.

“Definitely staying, ” he murmured a moment later.

“No, no. It’s your bachelor party. You have to go.”

I said the words, but the fingers of my right hand locked into his bronze hair, my left pressed tighter against the small of his back. His cool hands stroked my face.

“Bachelor parties are designed for those who are sad to see the passing of their single days. I couldn’t be more eager to have mine behind me. So there’s really no point.”

“True.” I breathed against the winter-cold skin of his throat.

Breaking Dawn