The wildlife sanctuary had been beautiful, but by the time we got back to the hotel, I was utterly drained. The rest of the group had plans to make the most of the free afternoon with activities like snorkeling or lounging by the beach, but swimming wasn't exactly an option for me—not with my foot in a boot. Instead, I decided the pool would be the perfect compromise. I could dip my toes in, enjoy a cocktail, and lose myself in a book without overexerting myself.

When I mentioned it to Ethan, his face lit up immediately. "Sounds perfect," he said. "Count me in."

Bryan, who had been scrolling through his phone at the time, didn't even look up. "Pass."

I rolled my eyes but didn't push. Honestly, I was relieved. Spending more time with Bryan after the awkward tension at the sanctuary wasn't high on my priority list.

Back in the room, I opened my suitcase and rifled through the contents, looking for something—anything—that would give me decent coverage. My scar wasn't something I was particularly ashamed of, but it was personal, and the idea of it being on full display in a crowd of near-strangers made my stomach churn.

After several minutes of searching, I realized the unfortunate truth: Isabella had only packed bikinis for me. Not just any bikinis, either. Tiny ones. Bold colors, daring cuts, and absolutely zero modesty. Typical Izzy.

I held up a red floral bikini, sighing in frustration. The top was a wrap style, and the bottoms—well, there wasn't much to them. The matching sarong offered some coverage, but it wasn't enough to completely ease my nerves.

I hesitated, biting my lip as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The vibrant red looked good against my skin tone, and the floral pattern gave it a fun, summery vibe. But my eyes kept drifting to the faint scar peeking out just above the edge of the sarong. No matter how much I adjusted it, there was no hiding it completely.

"It's fine," I muttered to myself. "No one's going to notice."

I grabbed my sunglasses and a book from my bag, trying to ignore the anxious fluttering in my chest. The pool was supposed to be relaxing. I wasn't going to let my insecurities ruin it.

The hotel's infinity pool was breathtaking, perched on a terrace that overlooked the lush jungle. The sparkling blue water seemed to stretch endlessly, blending seamlessly with the horizon. Sunbeds lined the deck, shaded by white umbrellas, and a small bar in the corner offered an array of tropical cocktails.

Ethan was already there when I arrived, sprawled out on a lounger with a drink in hand. He waved me over enthusiastically. "Amber! Finally!"

I laughed softly, setting my tote bag down on the chair beside his. "Didn't take me that long."

"I thought you got lost," he teased, sitting up. "Or chickened out."

"Nope," I said, "I'm here, aren't I?"

Ethan glanced at my bikini, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Red suits you."

"Thanks," I said quickly, hoping my sunglasses hid the heat rising in my cheeks. I settled into the lounge chair, determined to focus on my book.

I was halfway through a chapter of The Alchemist when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Didn't think you'd actually make it to the pool."

I didn't even have to look to know it was Bryan. His tone was laced with that infuriating mix of amusement and challenge that seemed to follow me everywhere.

"I thought you weren't coming," I said, glancing up briefly as he walked past. He was wearing black swim trunks and a loose white tank top, his hair slightly damp as if he'd just showered. The tattoos on his arms caught the sunlight, standing out against his tanned skin.

"Changed my mind," he said casually, dropping his towel onto the lounger on my other side.

Great. Just great.

Bryan sat down, pulling off his tank top and tossing it onto the chair. I kept my gaze firmly on my book, but my peripheral vision betrayed me, catching the way his muscles flexed as he leaned back against the chair.

"Relax," he said after a moment, smirking as if he could read my thoughts. "I'm not here to bother you."

"You're doing a great job so far," I muttered, flipping a page I hadn't actually read.

Ethan, ever the peacemaker, jumped in. "So, Bryan, what changed your mind about the pool?"

Bryan shrugged, his smirk softening slightly. "Figured I'd enjoy the view."

My stomach flipped, and I immediately buried my nose in my book, pretending not to hear him.

Back in the room, I let out a breath of relief as I closed the door behind me. The poolside afternoon had been equal parts relaxing and nerve-wracking. Bryan's teasing and constant presence had left me on edge, but at least now I could finally unwind in the privacy of our room.

I slipped off my sandals and sat on the edge of the bed—the bed, singular, because the hotel still hadn't fixed the twin bed issue. My gaze flicked to the small blanket and pillow on the floor, reminding me that tonight was my turn to sleep there. The thought of lying on the hard floor with my foot in a boot made my stomach sink, but I didn't have the energy to argue with Bryan about it again.

As I began pulling out my pajamas, the sound of running water in the bathroom stopped, followed by the soft click of the door opening. I froze, my back to the room, as I heard Bryan's footsteps padding across the floor.

"Hey," his voice came casually, "I'm grabbing my phone. Don't—"

I turned my head slightly, and that's when I saw him. Bryan stood in the middle of the room, his damp hair curling slightly at the edges, his chest still glistening with water droplets. A white towel hung low on his hips, revealing just enough of his tattooed abs to make my heart lurch in my chest.

"—look," he finished, smirking when he caught my wide-eyed stare.

My brain scrambled to form a coherent thought, but all I managed was, "Uh—sorry—I wasn't—" I whipped my head back around, my cheeks burning hotter than the Costa Rican sun.

"Relax," he said, his voice laced with amusement as he rummaged through his suitcase. "I'm just grabbing my clothes."

The sound of him shifting through his things was painfully loud in the silence. I kept my eyes firmly on the floor, trying to think about literally anything other than the way his tattoos disappeared beneath the edge of the towel.

"You're awfully quiet," Bryan teased, his voice closer now. I stiffened but didn't turn around.

"I just—uh—I'm tired," I stammered, hating how flustered I sounded.

"Right," he said, his tone clearly unconvinced. "Well, don't let me stop you from getting ready for bed."

When I risked a glance over my shoulder, he was still standing there, towel and all, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. I quickly turned back, mumbling something about needing to check my phone as I grabbed it from the nightstand and practically bolted to the corner of the room.

The bathroom door opened, and Bryan emerged wearing nothing but a loose pair of pajama pants, his chest bare and glistening with water droplets. I barely managed to suppress a gasp, my eyes darting away quickly. Focus, Amber. Don't let him get to you.

By the time Bryan finally settled onto the bed with his phone, I had managed to calm down—mostly. I sat cross-legged on the floor, pretending to scroll through Instagram while mentally preparing myself for the uncomfortable night ahead.

"Not getting ready to sleep yet?" Bryan asked, glancing down at me from the bed.

"Not really," I replied, avoiding his gaze.

He chuckled softly, setting his phone aside. "What, second thoughts about sleeping on the floor?"

"No," I lied quickly.

Bryan raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. "Uh-huh. You're a terrible liar, you know."

I glared at him half-heartedly. "It's fine. I'll survive."

"Right. Because this whole 'sleep on the floor' idea was yours." His tone was dripping with amusement now. "You know, I don't mind sharing the bed."

My stomach flipped at his words. "I'm fine," I insisted, though my voice wavered slightly.

Bryan shifted, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked down at me. "Suit yourself. But if you wake up sore tomorrow, don't say I didn't offer."

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. "Why are you so smug about everything?"

"Because it's fun to watch you squirm," he admitted, his voice low and teasing.

The air between us grew heavier, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. I refused to look at him, knowing that if I did, I'd lose whatever fragile composure I had left.

"You're impossible," I muttered, grabbing my pillow and lying down on the makeshift bed I'd created.

Bryan laughed softly, the sound rumbling through the room. "Goodnight" he said, his voice carrying just a hint of smug satisfaction.

"Goodnight," I mumbled, pulling the blanket over my head in an attempt to block him out.

An hour passed, and I lay on the floor staring at the ceiling, the hard surface beneath me making every muscle in my body ache. My boot felt heavier than ever, and no matter how I adjusted the pillow, I couldn't get comfortable.

"Amber," Bryan's voice came from above, soft but insistent.

"What?" I asked, trying to keep the frustration out of my tone.

"Stop being stubborn and get in the bed," he said, his voice low and firm, sending an unexpected shiver down my spine.

I froze, the words hitting me harder than they should have. There was something in his tone—commanding, confident, and maddeningly sure of himself—that made the air in the room feel heavier. My stomach twisted, a strange heat unfurling low inside me, one I couldn't ignore.

What was happening to me? My skin felt too warm, like I was standing too close to a fire. I tried to brush it off, to convince myself it was just frustration or irritation, but deep down, I knew it wasn't. This wasn't anger. It was something else entirely—something dangerous, something that made my pulse quicken in a way that left me breathless.

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to shield myself from the vulnerability threatening to spill out. "I'm fine," I snapped, my voice harsher than I intended, desperate to keep him at arm's length.

But even as I said it, the heat in my stomach didn't fade. If anything, it grew, coiling tighter.

"You don't sound fine," he said, his voice quieter now, teasing but still holding that edge of authority that made my heart race.

I swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze. Why did his words affect me like this? Why did they make me feel like my carefully constructed walls were crumbling, brick by brick, under the weight of his presence?

I hated that he could do this to me, hated that a simple sentence from him could ignite something. Something I didn't know how to handle.

"Amber, you're literally fidgeting every two minutes," he said, sitting up. "Just get in the bed. I promise I won't bite."

I hesitated, my pride warring with the desperate need for a decent night's sleep. "You're sure?"

He smirked. "I'm the one offering, aren't I?"

I clenched my teeth, climbing into the bed reluctantly. The space was cramped, and I could feel the heat radiating off his body mere inches from mine. My heart pounded as I scooted as far to the edge as possible, my back rigid and facing away from him.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the faint hum of the ceiling fan and the occasional rustle of sheets as one of us shifted uncomfortably. I stared at the wall, willing myself to relax, but every nerve in my body was on high alert.

Then, unexpectedly, I felt it—a light brush of his arm against mine. A jolt of electricity shot through me, and I froze. It was an accident, I told myself, though my pulse betrayed me.

"Sorry," he muttered, though his tone suggested anything but. He didn't move, and for some reason, that small contact sent a shiver down my spine.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay still. Ignore him. Just ignore him. But the longer I lay there, the more aware I became of his presence. The warmth of his skin, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air.

Another accidental touch, this time his hand grazing my thigh as he adjusted his position. My breath hitched, and I bit my lip to stifle a gasp. He has to be doing this on purpose.

"Stop it," I hissed, my voice low but intense. "If you keep touching me, I'm getting up and sleeping on the floor."

He chuckled softly, the sound sending vibrations through the mattress. "Jealous much? It's not like I'm trying to cop a feel, Amber. This bed is tiny. Deal with it."

I wanted to argue, to tell him exactly what I thought of his smug attitude, but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I curled tighter into myself, trying to create as much distance as possible.

But the damage was done. That brief, accidental contact had awakened something inside me, something I didn't want to admit. My body hummed with awareness, and no matter how hard I tried to push it aside, I couldn't escape the feeling of being hyper-focused on Bryan.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, each second dragging by with unbearable intensity. My mind raced, my thoughts spiraling. Why does he affect me like this? Why can't I just ignore him?

The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the ceiling fan. I lay stiffly on the farthest edge of the bed, my back turned to Bryan. The blanket felt too heavy, my skin too warm, and my thoughts were a mess of frustration, embarrassment, and something else I didn't want to name.

"Are you seriously going to cling to the edge of the bed all night?" Bryan's voice broke the silence, low and teasing.

I didn't turn around. "I'm giving you space."

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through the air between us. "I don't need that much space, Ballerina. You're acting like I'm going to bite."

"Can you stop calling me that?" I muttered, gripping the edge of the blanket.

"Why?" he asked, the smirk clear in his voice. "It suits you."

"It's annoying."

"You being annoyed is half the fun."

I exhaled sharply, turning slightly to glare at him. "Is everything a joke to you?"

Bryan was lying on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other draped casually across his stomach. The dim light from the bedside lamp softened his features, but the teasing glint in his dark eyes was as sharp as ever.

"Not everything," he said, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. "But you? You're... entertaining."

I blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. "Entertaining?" I echoed, sitting up slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He turned his head to look at me fully, his gaze locking onto mine in a way that made my heart stutter. "You're different, Amber. You don't let me get away with anything. I like that."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't say anything. The air between us grew heavier, charged with something unspoken. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him, even as my pulse raced.

"Why are you so tense?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost coaxing.

"I'm not tense," I lied, sitting back against the headboard and crossing my arms over my chest.

Bryan smirked, propping himself up on one elbow. "You're terrible at lying, it's pathetic"

I narrowed my eyes at him, my frustration bubbling over. "Why do you care?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against my arm lightly, almost hesitantly. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a jolt through me that I couldn't ignore.

"I don't know," he said finally, his voice so low I barely heard it. "Maybe I just like getting under your skin."

I swallowed hard, my gaze darting to where his hand rested inches from mine. "Well, congratulations," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Mission accomplished."

Bryan chuckled again, but this time it was softer, almost warm. "You're something else, Amber."

His words hung in the air, heavy and lingering. I didn't know what to do with them, so I turned away, pulling the blanket up higher and lying back down.

"Goodnight, Bryan," I said firmly, trying to end whatever this was before it went any further.

"Goodnight, Ballerina," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement—and something deeper.

As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I could feel his presence beside me, a warmth that seeped into the small space between us. The tension was still there, crackling like a live wire, but I forced myself to ignore it. Whatever was happening between us was dangerous territory, and I wasn't about to let it unravel me.

At least, that's what I told myself as I slowly drifted off to sleep, Bryan's quiet breathing the last thing I heard before darkness took over.