Page 22 of Beautifully Wild

A weird sensation rolls over me. In the darkness, I’m reminded of nights I’ve cried myself to sleep. How in those times, Gran’s spirit talked to me in my dreams. It’s weird I’m thinking of her now.

The guide claps his hands, and I jump. “Now is the time to swap your top.”

Would anyone know if I didn’t play along? After all, it is dark, and no-one knows me…

I jump again when a hand rests on my shoulder.Shit.I close my eyes, which is pointless really, except it helps me suck up what has to be done—remove my tank top. Soft material lands on my shoulder. I hold my tank out until it’s yanked out of my hand. I fiddle with the top, trying to find a tag, not wanting to be the person everyone laughs at because her top is inside out or the back is the front.

When I reach the cave opening, my eyes burn in the light. A green t-shirt falls to my hips. I don’t recall anyone wearing it. I search for the person wearing my yellow top. Laughter erupts from the group as people discover their surprise partner. The giggling continues as tops are turned from back to front and inside out. Some men have squeezed into their female partner’s clothing.

In the distance, I spot a guy sitting alone with his back to me. A topless figure, a rock with yellow material thrown over his shoulder. The stranger is wearing a hat. He’s facing away from the group looking out toward the rainforest beyond the cliffs. I look back to the group as I walk toward him, checking no one else is wearing my top. Everyone else appears to have paired up.

With every step, awareness zips up my spine. I recognize those shoulders. I want to believe it possible and curse myself for showing vulnerability.

I’m pulled closer by an invisible whirlpool.

When I reach him, I gasp.

What the actual hell?

Samuel’s gaze is lowered as though giving me a minute.

My eyes laser in on him. I’m holding my breath waiting for him to say something.

His eyes lift slowly to meet mine. Gone is the confident asshole. His eyes hold apology as he searches my face.

“Is this a sick joke?”

His brow pulls tight, then he shakes his head.

I fold my arms and glare at him. “Then why are you here?”

“It’s not something I can explain in a couple of sentences. First, I wanted to apologize.”

“For what? You just checked out early. It was your room, after all.”

His mouth opens as if my nonchalant response surprises him.

“Oh right, for your shitty behavior. I remember now. In fact, I remembereverything.”

He stares at me, and his silence pisses me off even more. He nods to the group. “We should join them.” He holds out my tank top. “I believe this is yours.”

In a swift action, I pull his tee up and over my head. His gaze lifts to my bikini. “And I assume this is yours,” I say bluntly.

He takes it from my grasp and doesn’t put it on. He pushes up and uncurls to stand. Like dominoes, his muscles contract with movement from his arms, down his chest, to the ripple of his abs.

I’m dead.

I close my eyes momentarily before forcing my feet to move. I need a moment because my every cell crackles like live wires craving him. I hate myself for wanting him when right now I need to remain angry and hurt him like he hurt me. It’s immature maybe, but my thoughts are all over the place. Mostly, I’m surprised as to why he’s here.

Our guide points to the door of the bus. I take a seat at the back, and Samuel follows in silence, sliding in beside me. The window is now my focus, my shaky hands pushed under my thighs.

“Our next stop isSaltos de Almada.Here you can relax and take a swim,” the guide announces.

The other tourists cheer.

My gaze doesn’t falter from the glass. I don’t want to be on this bus and this close to him when all I want to do is scream. “Why would you promise me morning and then leave before I wake?” I turn to meet his gaze. “You’re nothing but an ass.”

14

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