I smiled. "Give me two minutes."
I left the door open as they stood there—Tiffany smirking, Brittany biting her lip—and rushed inside.
My trolley bag was already packed from earlier. I just threw on cargo pants—loose enough for comfort on the long ride—and a simple comfy t-shirt. Phone in pocket, bag in hand, locked the door behind me.
We headed to the elevator together—Tiffany, Brittany, and me from the third floor. It wasn't even 11 yet; they liked being early, part of their yearly routine. The synergy was obvious—they'd done this trip enough times to have it down perfect.
Down in the lobby, the group was gathering.
Lily and Autumn were already there with their bags—Lily in cargo pants that hugged her perfect ass, red t-shirt casual but sexy; Autumn in a short skirt showing off those toned, thick gym thighs.
We joined them on the lobby sofas.
Then the Asian couple approached—the Vietnamese pair Lily had mentioned before.
