Page 19 of Beautifully Wild

I gather my shoes and purse. I glance back at his t-shirt on the bed. I’ll claim it too. With the Brazilian soccer team logo on the front, it’s like my personal souvenir.

Waiting at the elevator, I have no idea what floor I’m on until the number above the door lights up.

“Asshole” plays over in my head like a mantra.

I tap on the door before I use my room key to open it.

“Yasmine,” I whisper and peer around the corner. Two heads are on pillows with sheets covering their bodies. I sneak in, grab some clothes from the closet before heading to the bathroom.

Yasmine lifts her head. “Edes.” Her voice is thick with sleep. “What are you doing? The plan was to sleep in, remember? We’re going to be up all night at the Samba parade.”

I glance at the clock. It’s just gone seven in the morning. Oh, for heaven’s sake. “Well, we didn’t explain that to Samuel before he decided to check out at some ungodly hour, and the maid woke me believing the room was vacant,” I spit.

Michael groans. “He what?” He sits up, and the sheet falls away to reveal a tattooed muscled chest.

I swallow down the ball of hurt once more. Tears sting and threaten to spill out the corners of my eyes. “Samuel checked out.”

“Are you sure?” He rubs his hands over his face and sighs.

“Yep.”

“The jerk.” Michael reaches for his phone, but the screen doesn’t light up when he touches it. “It’s dead.” He tosses it back onto the bedside table. “I’ll find out what the hell is going on later. I’m not surprised, though. He’s… different.”

“You don’t say.” I fold my arms.

“He does this. It’s not you.” Michael rubs the back of his neck and shakes his head.

“Is he married?”

“Not to a woman.” He chuckles when he sees Yasmine’s and my expressions. “Or a man,” he adds. “To a way of life.” He pauses. “It’s hard to explain.”

“You better start trying harder,” Yasmine threatens in her best tone.

“I’m going to shower.” I raise my hands in the air. “Please find a way to explain it because I’m feeling pretty shitty.”

Behind the door, I ignore the murmurs of Yasmine and Michael in a discussion.

Under the water, my thoughts clear. Memories of last night flash back. He wanted me. He did from the moment we saw each other. I sob into the water spray remembering his words, his touch.

What’s wrong with me?

13

Eden

Ileus, Brazil

Two Days Later…

UndertheBraziliansun,I roll my shoulders and stretch my neck from side to side. I’m grateful that Yasmine discovered the coastal town and booked the beachside resort so we could rest after Rio. Only now, with what happened in Rio, busy is better to keep certain thoughts at bay. The brochures are spread out on the sand so I can plan my days. My thoughts wander to the mystical lakehementioned. Now, I’m determined to find it—to take something positive out of our negative interaction.

“There’s a chocolate factory. And we can go on a tour of an old cacao plantation,” Bree says beside me.

“Oh, and look. You knowJorge Amado, the author we saw in Salvador? He came from around here.” Amy hands me another brochure. “There’s a bar, theVesuvio,named in one of his books. It looks popular.”

“I can rely on you to find a reason to go to a bar.”

Amy winks at me. “I’ve had enough of the beach. I’m heading up to the resort pool. Anyone keen?”

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