The bus ride from the airport to the hotel was a mix of chatter, laughter, and sleepy silence. My boot clunked awkwardly against the floor every time we hit a bump, which only made me more self-conscious. I sat near the front, quietly watching the scenery change from bustling streets to lush greenery, my thoughts ping-ponging between excitement and dread.

When we finally pulled up to the hotel, a collective murmur of awe swept through the group. The building was stunning, with its sleek design blending seamlessly into the tropical backdrop. Palm trees swayed in the breeze, and the scent of saltwater mixed with blooming flowers filled the air.

"This is gorgeous," one of the girls whispered behind me.

"Right?" another chimed in. "Totally worth the flight."

I stayed quiet, clutching my bag as we filed off the bus. Ethan caught my eye and gave me a quick thumbs-up before joining a group of his friends. His easy smile had already made the day better, but as I glanced over my shoulder and saw Bryan lingering near the back, a familiar knot tightened in my stomach.

The hotel lobby buzzed with excitement as our group of Spanish students clustered near the front desk, waiting to receive our room keys. The cool blast of air conditioning was a welcome relief from the humid Costa Rican evening, and the sound of soft Latin music played over the speakers, adding a relaxed ambiance that my nerves refused to match.

I stood near the edge of the group, trying not to look like the outsider I felt. Most of the students had formed cliques over the past few weeks of class, laughing and chatting about who they'd been paired with for the trip. My stomach churned every time I thought about my assigned roommate.

Bryan stood a few feet away, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, his dark eyes scanning the room like he had better things to do. The tattoos peeking out from the sleeves of his black T-shirt only added to his annoyingly effortless confidence.

My fingers tightened around the strap of my backpack. I didn't know how he managed to look so relaxed while I felt like I was one wrong move away from a full-blown meltdown. Sharing a room with him for ten days was already bad enough; now, I had to deal with the aftermath of our fight.

"Amber Lee and Bryan Munzo," Señora Álvarez called, her voice cutting through the chatter.

I flinched slightly, the sound of our names together making my stomach twist.

Bryan straightened, pushing off the wall and striding toward the desk like this was just another day. I followed reluctantly, keeping my distance as Señora Álvarez handed us a single key card.

"Here you go," she said with a warm smile. "Room 502. Remember, you're representing the class, so be respectful and cooperative with your roommate."

Cooperative. Right.

Bryan grabbed the key without a word, glancing at me briefly before turning toward the elevators.

"Thank you," I mumbled to Señora Álvarez, then hurried after him.

The elevator ride to the fifth floor was painfully awkward. Bryan stood on one side, scrolling through his phone, while I stared at the glowing floor numbers, willing the ride to go faster. The tension between us was almost suffocating, and the silence made every second feel like an hour.

When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Bryan gestured for me to go first. I hobbled past him with my boot thumping awkwardly against the floor, my cheeks burning.

Room 502 was at the end of the hallway. Bryan slid the key card into the lock, and the door clicked open.

As we stepped inside, the first thing I noticed was how spacious the room was. The second thing I noticed was the bed.

The one bed.

My heart sank as I stared at the massive, king-sized bed dominating the center of the room.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered.

Bryan let out a low chuckle, tossing his bag onto the bed like it was no big deal. "Well, this just got interesting."

I turned to glare at him. "This isn't funny."

"Relax, Ballerina," he said, smirking as he leaned against the wall. "It's just a bed."

"No, it's supposed to be two beds," I snapped, gesturing wildly. "How am I supposed to—how are we supposed to—"

"Sleep?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "Pretty sure that's what beds are for."

I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "I'm going to fix this."

"Be my guest," he said, clearly amused.

I stormed back down to the lobby, clutching my phone and muttering under my breath. I explained the situation to the front desk staff, hoping for some miracle.

"Lo siento," the receptionist said apologetically, shaking her head. "All rooms are booked."

I tried Señora Álvarez next, but she was busy organizing another student's issue and didn't seem particularly sympathetic.

By the time I trudged back to the room, defeated and frustrated, Bryan was sprawled on the bed, scrolling through his phone like he didn't have a care in the world.

"Let me guess," he said without looking up. "No luck?"

I dropped my bag onto the floor and glared at him. "This isn't funny."

He finally looked up, his smirk softening just slightly. "Relax, Amber. We'll figure it out."

"We're not sharing the bed," I said firmly, crossing my arms.

Bryan sat up, raising an eyebrow. "And where exactly do you think I'm sleeping? The bathtub?"

"I don't know. The floor?"

He laughed, the sound low and grating. "Not happening."

"Then we'll take turns," I suggested. "One of us gets the bed tonight, and the other tomorrow."

"Sure," he said, leaning back on his hands. "As long as I get the bed first."

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my temper in check. "You're impossible."

"And you're dramatic," he shot back.

After much arguing, Bryan finally relented and took the floor for the night, though not without a dramatic sigh and a pointed comment about how I owed him.

I climbed into the bed, pulling the covers up to my chin as I tried to ignore the heavy silence in the room. My eyes wandered around, landing on something small but unmistakable. My breath caught.

The nightlight.

It was plugged into the wall near the corner, casting its soft, warm glow across the room—the same glow I remembered from that night at Bryan's house after the pool accident. I blinked, my chest tightening. He didn't need it; the room had other lights. So why was it here?

"You're still mad," Bryan said suddenly, breaking the silence.

"No kidding," I muttered, dragging my gaze away from the night light and staring at the ceiling.

He let out a low laugh. "You know, you're not exactly easy to deal with either."

I turned to glare at him, my heart pounding. "Why are you like this?"

"Like what?"

"Mean," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "You're hot and cold, Bryan. One minute, you're helping me out of a pool, and the next, you're tearing me down. I don't get it."

He was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "Maybe I don't get it either," he admitted quietly.

The honesty in his voice caught me off guard, and for a moment, the tension between us shifted. It wasn't gone, but it felt different—less sharp, more confusing.

I glanced back at the veilleuse, its soft light wrapping the room in an odd sense of calm. "Goodnight, Bryan," I said softly, my voice tinged with unspoken questions I wasn't ready to ask.

"Goodnight," he whispered, his tone quieter than before.

The room fell silent again, but the gentle glow of the veilleuse seemed to hold everything we couldn't say, its presence both unsettling and strangely comforting.

The morning light poured through the wooden blinds of our room, painting golden streaks across the floor and soft green walls. The gentle hum of birds chirping outside was almost soothing—almost, if not for the heavy tension still lingering in the room. The large window opened to a balcony, overlooking the lush Costa Rican jungle that stretched as far as the eye could see. The room, cozy with warm-toned wood accents and tropical décor, would have been perfect under different circumstances.

But waking up in a shared space with Bryan? That was an entirely different story.

I shifted slightly under the covers, immediately regretting the movement as I caught sight of Bryan. He was standing by the balcony door, the early sunlight casting a glow over his shirtless figure. His broad shoulders, toned arms, and faint tattoos along his forearm caught my eye before I quickly looked away, my cheeks warming despite myself.

"Morning." Bryan said, his voice low and groggy. He didn't bother turning around, his attention fixed on the jungle beyond the balcony. "Sleep well?"

"Fine," I muttered, my tone clipped. I wasn't about to admit I'd spent most of the night tossing and turning, hyper-aware of his presence on the floor next to the bed.

"You snore, you know," he added casually, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk.

"I do not," I snapped, sitting up and pulling the covers around me. My hair, a tangled mess from sleep, didn't help my attempt at appearing composed.

Bryan chuckled, grabbing his towel and heading for the bathroom. "Whatever you say, Lee."

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and grabbed my toiletries bag, careful not to make too much noise as I shuffled toward the bathroom.

The bathroom was small but functional, with tiled walls and a rain showerhead that looked like it belonged in a spa. I splashed cold water on my face, the chill jolting me fully awake, then ran a brush through my hair until the tangles disappeared.

My outfit for the day was simple but breezy—perfect for Costa Rica's tropical heat. I slipped into a pair of high-waisted denim shorts and an orange crop top, tying it neatly at the front. The vibrant color brought out the warm undertones of my skin, and I smiled faintly at my reflection.

I twisted my hair into loose waves, securing it with a large, flower-shaped claw clip that I'd bought impulsively back at home. It was bright orange, matching my top and adding a playful touch to my look.

After an awkward morning routine filled with me pretending not to notice Bryan as he got ready, we headed downstairs for breakfast. The open-air dining area was stunning, with wooden tables scattered under a canopy of palm trees. String lights were still strung from the night before, swaying gently in the breeze. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the salty ocean air, and I could hear the faint crash of waves in the distance.

I grabbed a plate of tropical fruit and toast, finding a spot at a table near the edge of the patio. Ethan waved me over, his easy smile brightening my morning more than the coffee.

"Morning, Amber," he said, sliding over to make room. His baseball cap was already in place, and his casual hoodie-and-shorts combo somehow made him look effortlessly put together.

"Morning," I replied, sitting down carefully to adjust my boot. "Ready for the ropes course today?"

"Always," he said, biting into a piece of pineapple. "How about you?"

I hesitated, glancing down at my injured foot. "I'm sitting that one out. I'll be visiting a wildlife sanctuary nearby instead."

"That sounds cool," Ethan said, genuinely interested. "What kind of animals do they have?"

Before I could answer, Señora Álvarez approached the table, her clipboard in hand. "Amber," she said warmly, "since you won't be doing the ropes course, I'd like someone to accompany you to the sanctuary."

"I'm fine going alone," I said quickly, not wanting to make a fuss.

"Nonsense," she said, scanning the group. "Does anyone want to join Amber?"

"I'll go," Ethan offered immediately, his smile easy and unforced.

I smiled back, relieved. "Thanks, Ethan."

But before I could feel too comfortable, another voice chimed in from across the patio. "I'll go too," Bryan said, leaning back in his chair with an expression that was impossible to read.

The table went silent for a moment, and I could feel my stomach drop. Ethan raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, and I could barely keep the confusion off my face. Bryan hated me—why would he voluntarily spend the day with me?

"Perfect," Señora Álvarez said, jotting their names down. "You three can head out together after breakfast."

The ride to the sanctuary was short but awkward. Ethan sat in the middle seat of the van, chatting easily about the activities planned for the rest of the day. Bryan, meanwhile, was unnervingly quiet, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed out the window. I stared out my own window, pretending I wasn't hyper-aware of his presence.

When we arrived, the sanctuary was breathtaking. Wooden walkways wound through dense greenery, leading to enclosures filled with exotic animals. Macaws squawked from the treetops, and the faint rustle of leaves hinted at creatures moving just out of sight.

"This is amazing," Ethan said, grinning as we stepped onto the first path. "Way better than dangling from a rope."

"Definitely," I agreed, feeling a small flicker of excitement despite myself.

Bryan followed a few steps behind, his silence hanging over us like a cloud. I tried to ignore him, focusing instead on the guide who was explaining the sanctuary's efforts to rehabilitate injured animals.

As we made our way through the sanctuary, Ethan and I fell into easy conversation. He was surprisingly knowledgeable about some of the animals, pointing out details I wouldn't have noticed on my own.

Bryan, however, seemed content to lurk in the background, his gaze alternating between the animals and... me. I could feel his eyes on me every time I laughed at one of Ethan's jokes or leaned closer to get a better look at an enclosure.

At one point, Ethan nudged me playfully. "So, are you always this serious, or is it just the boot cramping your style?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "You caught me. I'm usually much more fun."

"Hard to believe," Bryan muttered from behind us, his tone low enough that I wasn't sure I was supposed to hear it.

I glanced back at him, narrowing my eyes. "Something to say, Bryan?"

He shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Just making an observation."

Ethan raised an eyebrow, looking between us like he'd just walked into the middle of a storm he hadn't seen coming. "You two have... an interesting dynamic."

"That's one way to put it," I muttered, turning back to the trail.

Toward the end of the tour, we reached a quiet overlook that stretched out over the jungle. The guide let us linger for a few minutes, and Ethan wandered off to snap some photos.

I leaned against the railing, closing my eyes and letting the warm breeze wash over me. For the first time all morning, I felt a flicker of peace.

"You're quieter than usual," Bryan said, stepping up beside me.

I glanced at him, startled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged, looking out at the view. "Just an observation."

I sighed, too tired to argue. "I'm stressed, okay? Between my foot, the Nutcracker, and this trip... it's a lot."

Bryan was silent for a moment before surprising me with his response. "You'll figure it out, Amber. You always do."

His words caught me off guard, and I turned to look at him, searching for any trace of sarcasm in his expression. But his face was serious, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

"Thanks," I said softly, unsure of what else to say.

He didn't respond, but for a moment, the tension between us seemed to ease, leaving something else in its place.