The moment I stepped out of the hotel room, a mix of nerves and relief washed over me. The living situation with Bryan had been suffocating, and the heavy air in our shared space felt like it had followed me down the corridor. I tried to shake it off as I walked toward the lobby, determined not to let his snide comments or lingering glances ruin my night.

Ethan was already waiting by the front desk, casually leaning against a polished wooden counter. He looked effortlessly cool in his dark green button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal toned forearms, paired with perfectly-fitted jeans and white sneakers. His easy smile stretched wider when he saw me, and for the first time in hours, I felt myself relax.

"Wow," he said, his eyes sweeping over my dress. "You look... amazing."

"Thanks," I replied, feeling the corners of my mouth curve up in response. The way his gaze lingered on me was flattering, but not in the overwhelming way Bryan's did. It was softer, more genuine, and exactly what I needed right now.

"You ready to have some fun?" Ethan asked, offering his arm in an exaggeratedly gentlemanly manner.

I laughed, linking my arm with his. "Absolutely. I could use a distraction."

He laughed, opening the cab door for me. " I hope you're ready for some good food"

"More than ready," I said, sliding into the car.

As we rode to the restaurant, Ethan chatted easily about the day's activities. His fluency in Spanish had been a lifesaver during our outings, and his calm demeanor made navigating everything feel less intimidating. He didn't even bat an eye when I stumbled over my words, instead jumping in to help without making a big deal out of it. Tonight, though, I could feel him keeping the mood light on purpose, probably sensing the tension I was trying to hide.

"So," he said, turning to me with a mischievous grin, "are you going to let me order for you tonight? Or do you want to surprise me with your newfound Spanish skills?"

I laughed despite myself. "I think I'll leave it to the expert."

The restaurant was perfect—cozy yet sophisticated, with warm lighting and an open-air design that let the tropical breeze flow through. The smell of sizzling meat and fresh herbs filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of conversation from other diners. We were led to a corner booth near a small fountain, the sound of trickling water adding to the relaxed atmosphere.

Ethan's friends were already there—Kevin, Diego, and a couple of others I didn't know well. They greeted me warmly, shuffling to make room as Ethan slid in beside me.

"Amber!" Kevin said, flashing me a grin. "Ready for a proper Costa Rican feast?"

"Absolutely," I said, smiling. "Though I'm relying on all of you to steer me in the right direction."

"You're in good hands," Diego said, his accent thick but charming. "Ethan's the king of food recommendations."

"And bad jokes," Kevin added, earning a playful shove from Ethan.

I laughed, already feeling the tension in my chest loosen. These guys were easy to be around—funny, laid-back, and welcoming. It was a stark contrast to the storm that had been brewing in my mind since the moment Bryan and I had been forced to room together.

Ethan introduced me to the rest of the group, and within minutes, I felt like I'd known them for ages. They had that effortless camaraderie that made me relax.

Ethan leaned closer, his shoulder brushing mine. "You good?" he asked softly, his tone warm and genuine.

I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for inviting me."

"Of course," he said, his smile reassuring. "This trip's about making memories, right?"

The waiter arrived to take our orders, and Ethan insisted on handling it, rattling off a mix of recommendations and inside jokes about the menu. When it was my turn, I hesitated, glancing at the unfamiliar dishes.

"You've got to try the casado," Kevin suggested. "It's classic. Rice, beans, plantains, and whatever meat you want."

"It's amazing," Diego chimed in. "And the portions are huge, so no one leaves hungry."

"Sold," I said, smiling. "Casado it is."

As the waiter walked away, Diego turned to me. "So, Amber, how's Costa Rica treating you?"

"It's been amazing," I said, meaning it. "The beaches, the wildlife, even the museums—it's all been incredible. I just wish I could do more physical stuff."

Kevin nodded sympathetically, glancing at my boot. "That's rough. How's it holding up?"

"Not bad," I lied, even though my foot ached from the morning's activities. "I've learned to manage."

Ethan, sitting beside me, leaned closer. "She's underselling it. Amber's been killing it in Spanish class, even with all the extra challenges."

I shot him a look, half-annoyed, half-grateful. "Barely," I muttered. "It's not like I have much of a choice."

"You're doing great," Ethan said firmly, his voice warm. "Better than most of us."

The compliment caught me off guard, and I felt my cheeks flush again. "Thanks," I murmured, taking a sip of my mojito to hide my embarrassment.

Despite the laughter and easy conversation, I couldn't shake the nagging thoughts of Bryan. His harsh words from the other night echoed in my mind, mixing with the confusion of the moments we'd shared since—the pool, the rainstorm, and that ridiculous argument before I left for dinner. It didn't make sense. One minute he was cold and distant, and the next, he was... something else entirely.

"You okay?" Ethan's voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.

"Yeah," I said quickly, forcing a smile. "Just... tired, I guess."

"You've been working hard," he said, his tone kind. "You deserve a break."

The sincerity in his voice made my heart ache a little. Why couldn't things be this simple with Bryan? Ethan was sweet, supportive, and completely straightforward. Yet, here I was, still tangled up in the messy web Bryan seemed to spin around me without even trying.

But as we left the restaurant and stepped back into the warm Costa Rican air, my phone buzzed in my bag. Pulling it out, I saw Bryan's name on the screen.

Hope you're having fun.

That was it. No explanation, no follow-up. Just five simple words that sent my mind spiraling.

I slipped the phone back into my bag, forcing myself to stay present as Ethan chatted about the plan for tomorrow. But as much as I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling that no matter how far I went, Bryan Munzo would always be in the back of my mind.

We were just about to call it a night when Kevin leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know," he started, a slow grin spreading across his face, "there's this club just down the street. Super chill, great music. What do you guys think?"

Diego groaned, though it was more playful than serious. "Man, it's late. I'm too old for this."

"You're 23," Kevin shot back, rolling his eyes. He turned his attention to Ethan and me. "What about you two? Amber, do you dance?" he said jokingly.

I blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, sometimes?" I said, laughing

Kevin clapped his hands together, clearly delighted. "Perfect! Then you're coming."

Ethan raised an eyebrow at me, his lips quirking into a teasing smile. "You up for it?"

I hesitated. On one hand, the idea of dancing sounded ridiculous with my injured foot, not to mention how self-conscious I felt after the events of the day. On the other hand, the thought of ending the night on a high note was tempting.

"Sure," I said finally, surprising myself. "Why not?"

The walk to the club was short, the warm Costa Rican night wrapping around us like a blanket. The streets were still lively, with street vendors selling late-night snacks and groups of tourists and locals alike wandering about.

The club was tucked away in a narrow alley, its entrance marked by neon lights and the faint thrum of bass-heavy music. The bouncer at the door barely glanced at our IDs before waving us inside, and the moment we stepped through the doors, the atmosphere hit me like a wave.

The space was dimly lit, with colorful strobe lights slicing through the darkness. The dance floor was packed, bodies moving to the pulsating beat of reggaeton. A small bar in the corner was crowded, the bartenders working quickly to keep up with orders.

"This is... a lot," I said, raising my voice to be heard over the music.

"It's perfect," Kevin said, already moving toward the bar. "First round's on me!"

Diego reluctantly followed, muttering something about needing caffeine instead of alcohol. Ethan stayed by my side, his hand lightly brushing my elbow as he leaned in to speak. "Want something to drink?"

"Sure," I said, nodding. "Surprise me."

By the time Ethan returned with two drinks—something fruity and strong—I was starting to loosen up. The music, the energy, the warmth of the room—it all worked to drown out the noise in my head. Bryan's message, the lingering tension, the stress of the trip—it all faded into the background.

Kevin and Diego were already on the dance floor, their questionable moves drawing laughter from nearby dancers. Ethan turned to me, offering his hand with a playful grin. "Shall we?"

I hesitated, glancing down at my boot. "I'm not exactly in prime dancing condition."

He shrugged. "Who cares? Just sway a little. I'll do the hard part."

I laughed, taking his hand. "Fine. But don't laugh at me."

The music was infectious, the heavy bass line vibrating through the floor. Ethan was true to his word, keeping his moves simple while I swayed awkwardly beside him. To my surprise, it wasn't as bad as I'd feared. The crowd around us was too caught up in their own fun to notice my uneven steps, and Ethan's easy-going vibe made it impossible not to relax.

After a few songs, I stepped off the dance floor, my foot starting to throb despite the boot. Ethan followed, concern flickering in his eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I said, waving him off. "Just need a break."

We found a small table near the edge of the room, the music slightly muffled but still loud enough to keep the energy alive. I sipped my drink, letting the cool liquid ease the heat building in my chest.

"You're a good sport," Ethan said, leaning back in his chair. "Not everyone would hit the dance floor with an injury."

"Thanks," I said, smiling. "But I think you're the one carrying the team out there."

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Maybe. But you've got better moves than Kevin, so that's a win."

I glanced toward the dance floor, where Kevin was attempting a move that looked more like flailing than dancing. Diego stood beside him, shaking his head with mock disappointment.

"You might be right," I said, laughing.

The drinks kept coming, and I wasn't stopping them. Ethan and Kevin made sure my glass was never empty, and before I knew it, the sweet, fruity cocktails had gone straight to my head. The music felt louder, the lights brighter, and my inhibitions... well, they didn't seem to exist anymore.

"Amber, you're killing it!" Kevin shouted over the music, clinking his glass with mine as we laughed at Diego's failed attempt to pull off some dramatic salsa move.

I felt light, giddy, and more than a little reckless. My foot ached faintly, but I barely noticed it over the buzz in my veins. Ethan was beside me, his arm loosely around my shoulders as we swayed to the beat. Everything was perfect.

My vision was already a little blurry, and the music thumped through my body like a second heartbeat. My fourth—or maybe fifth—drink sat half-finished on the table in front of me, the ice melting as I swirled it absently with my straw.

Then I saw him.

Bryan strolled in like he owned the place, his dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to hint at the tattoos on his chest. His usual smirk was in place, and his presence seemed to suck the air out of the room—or maybe that was just me, sitting here like an idiot with my drink halfway to my lips.

He wasn't alone.

Nope. Beside him was her. A tall, gorgeous woman with glossy hair and legs that went on forever. She laughed at something he said, touching his arm like they were the only two people in the world.

My stomach did a weird flip, and I found myself gripping my glass tighter. And then it happened.

He kissed her. Not a quick peck, either. It was full-on, hands-on-her-waist, making-a-statement kind of kiss. I should've looked away, pretended I didn't care, but instead, I stared, my jaw slack, the jealousy rising so fast it nearly knocked me off my chair.

"Amber?" Ethan's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "You okay?"

"Fine!" I said, far too loudly. "I'm great. Why wouldn't I be great?"

Ethan frowned, clearly unconvinced. "Uh... no reason?"

"Exactly!" I declared, slamming my drink down on the table. "No reason at all!"

I stood abruptly, wobbling slightly as the room tilted. Ethan reached out to steady me, but I waved him off, determined to maintain whatever shred of dignity I had left.

"Where are you going?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

"Home," I said firmly, though my words were starting to slur. "I don't need to be here. I have better things to do than watch that."

Ethan blinked. "Watch what?"

"Nothing!" I snapped, though my gaze flicked back to Bryan, who was now leaning casually against the bar, his arm still around the mystery woman. "I'm just... done. Done with... everything."

"Amber—"

"I'm fine!" I insisted, grabbing my bag. "I'll just walk. It's not far."

Ethan stood, clearly not about to let me stumble back to the hotel alone. "I'll walk you."

But before he could take another step, Bryan appeared out of nowhere, his tall frame looming over us. He crossed his arms, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he looked between me and Ethan.

"I'll take her," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I groaned, rolling my eyes. "I don't need you to take me anywhere."

"You're drunk," he said flatly. "You shouldn't be walking alone."

"Ethan can take me," I countered, pointing at him dramatically. "He's nice. You're mean."

Ethan raised his hands, clearly not wanting to get involved. "Uh, maybe Bryan's right—"

"Don't side with him!" I cut in, my voice rising an octave. "You're supposed to be on my side."

Bryan let out a low chuckle, which only infuriated me more. "You're being ridiculous."

"Oh, I'm ridiculous?" I hissed, poking him in the chest. "You're the one who was shoving your tongue in her mouth!"

Bryan raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Who what?"

"Nothing!" I snapped, turning on my heel—or trying to, anyway. My balance was not cooperating, and before I knew it, Bryan had caught my elbow to steady me.

"You're not walking anywhere like this," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "Let's go."