The next morning, I woke up to the smell of something burning.

Not the comforting, warm scent of pancakes or fresh coffee. No. Something was on fire.

I sat up immediately, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, still tangled in Bryan's blankets. He was already gone, which meant—

Oh, no.

I scrambled out of bed, threw on one of Bryan's hoodies over my pajamas, and hurried to the kitchen.

What I saw? A complete and utter disaster.

Bryan was standing at the stove, scowling down at the frying pan like it had personally offended him. Smoke was rising from what I assumed used to be a pancake, but it was now a blackened, unrecognizable blob.

Ethan was sitting on the counter, sipping his coffee like this was the most entertaining thing he'd ever seen.

Kyle and Kevin were at the table, not even trying to help, just watching and whispering to each other.

I stared at Bryan. He stared at the pancake.

Then, without a word, he picked up the frying pan and dumped the entire thing in the trash.

Ethan lost it, bursting out laughing. "Jesus, Munzo, I didn't know pancakes could suffer."

Bryan shot him a glare. "Shut the fuck up."

I covered my mouth, trying to hold in my own laughter. "Bryan... what are you doing?"

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "I was trying to make breakfast."

Kyle chimed in from the table. "He was trying to impress you, actually."

Bryan shot him a warning look, but Ethan just grinned. "Yeah, how's that working out, Munzo?"

Bryan didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed the bowl of pancake batter and shoved it into my hands.

"You do it," he muttered.

I laughed, rolling up my sleeves. "Fine. Step aside, Chef Disaster."

Ethan snorted. "Oh, that's his new name now."

Bryan muttered something under his breath but didn't argue. Instead, he moved behind me, his hands settling on my waist as he leaned down.

"You're not allowed to laugh at me," he murmured near my ear.

I smirked, flipping the pancake perfectly. "Too late."

Isabella finally emerged from her room late—way too late for someone who usually woke up early.

The moment she stepped into the kitchen, I knew.

Her hair was messy, she was wearing Blake's hoodie, and she looked far too guilty for my liking.

I slammed the spatula down on the counter.

"SPILL."

Isabella froze mid-step, blinking like she had just been caught robbing a bank. "What?"

"You know what."

Everyone at the table immediately perked up. Kevin set his coffee down. Kyle raised an eyebrow. Ethan grinned like he had been waiting for this moment all morning.

Bryan, still standing behind me, muttered, "Oh, this is gonna be good."

I crossed my arms. "You went to bed in your pajamas. You woke up in Blake's hoodie. Explain."

Isabella's face turned red. "I—it's nothing! I was cold!"

Ethan leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "Sooo... you went to Blake for warmth?"

Isabella glared. "I swear to God, Ethan."

Kyle smirked. "That's not a no."

Isabella threw a piece of toast at him.

I narrowed my eyes. "Izzy, you and I both know you're a blanket thief. If you were cold, you would've stolen every single one in Blake's room and left him to freeze."

Ethan gasped dramatically. "Wait. Wait. Did you cuddle?"

Isabella looked ready to commit murder. "NO."

I squinted at her. "Did you almost cuddle?"

She whipped around. "BRYAN, CONTROL YOUR GIRLFRIEND."

Bryan just sipped his coffee. "Nah, this is fun."

Ethan leaned in closer. "Did you want to cuddle?"

That did it.

Isabella screamed into her hands, turned on her heel, and stormed out of the kitchen.

Ethan grinned, looking way too satisfied.

I laughed, flipping another pancake. "She's gonna kill us later."

Bryan, still smirking, rested his chin on my shoulder. "Worth it."

Later in the afternoon, after the chaos of breakfast and everyone teasing Isabella to near insanity, I finally got her alone.

She had escaped to our room, probably trying to avoid more interrogation, but she should've known better—I wasn't letting this go.

I closed the door behind me, arms crossed as I leaned against it. "Alright, spill."

Isabella, who was curled up in bed, hugging a pillow, let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Amber—"

I cut her off. "Don't even try to lie to me. You looked guilty this morning, and you don't get flustered over nothing."

She groaned, flipping onto her back and staring at the ceiling. "It wasn't even a big deal."

I grinned. "So something did happen."

She threw the pillow at me. "Stop using my words against me!"

I dodged it easily and hopped onto the bed beside her. "Izzy. It's me. Your best friend. You can't keep secrets from me."

She groaned again, covering her face with her hands. "Okay, okay, fine! But don't make a big deal out of it."

I leaned in. "No promises."

She peeked at me from between her fingers, already regretting everything.

"After you left with Bryan," she finally admitted, "I was not about to sleep alone after that ghost story. And Ethan wasn't an option, obviously, so Blake just—" She hesitated. "—offered."

I stared. "Blake offered?"

She nodded. "Yeah. He was just like, 'Are you coming or are you gonna stand here all night?' And I panicked, so I just... went."

I gasped. "You just went into Blake's room? Isabella Martine, what are you not telling me?"

She sat up, grabbing another pillow and shoving it into her face. "I hate you."

I giggled. "No, you love me. Now tell me what happened. Did you talk? Did you—" I paused, lowering my voice dramatically. "—cuddle?"

She whipped her head toward me. "NO!"

I smirked. "Mhm. And yet... you woke up wearing his hoodie."

Her face turned red. "I don't even know how that happened!"

I gave her a look. "Izzy, did he give it to you? Or did you steal it?"

She mumbled something.

I grinned. "What was that?"

She let out a long breath, looking utterly defeated. "He gave it to me, okay? I was cold, and he just—ugh." She flopped back against the pillows. "He put it on me while I was half-asleep."

I clutched my chest. "That's so romantic."

She groaned. "It wasn't romantic, Amber! He just—ugh.He kept smirking at me this morning because he knew I'd get embarrassed!"

I wiggled my eyebrows. "So he thinks something happened?"

She kicked me with her foot. "I hate you."

I laughed, rolling onto my side. "I bet he likes you."

She froze.

I smirked. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I see the way he looks at you."

She made a face, shaking her head. "No. No way. Blake is just—he likes messing with me, that's all."

I raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. And that's why he let you sleep in his room and gave you his hoodie?"

She groaned, covering her face again.

I giggled, hugging her arm. "I love this trip."

She whined into her pillow. "I hate this trip."

The cabin was silent, the kind of stillness that only comes really late at night, when everyone else is asleep, and the world outside is nothing but dark sky and crisp air.

I had been asleep, wrapped up in the warmth of Bryan's hoodie, until my phone buzzed softly on the nightstand.

I squinted at the screen, my heart already picking up speed when I saw his name.

Bryan: Meet me in the hot tub. Don't make a sound.

I blinked, my brain still half-asleep, rereading the message twice.

Then, I did what any normal, rational person would do when their very attractive, very smug boyfriend texts them at two in the morning.

I grabbed the red bikini.

The one Isabella had forced me to pack.

The one Bryan had smirked about when I denied bringing it.

I sighed, shaking my head, but my body was already moving on its own.

I changed quickly, throwing on a fuzzy cardigan over my bikini for warmth before tiptoeing through the dark cabin.

I was careful, silent, not wanting to wake Isabella—or worse, Ethan, because if he caught me sneaking out, I would never hear the end of it.

The cold air hit me immediately when I stepped outside, my breath fogging slightly as I carefully made my way toward the steaming hot tub on the back deck.

And there he was.

Bryan was already inside, leaning back against the edge, arms spread out along the rim like he had all the time in the world.

The water was up to his chest, his skin slick with heat and steam, his dark hair messy from sleep, strands curling slightly against his forehead.

His eyes dragged over me slowly, taking in exactly what I was wearing.

The corner of his mouth curved up.

"You listened," he murmured.

I crossed my arms, shivering slightly. "You woke me up for this?"

Bryan tilted his head, looking completely unbothered. "You complaining?"

I huffed, rolling my eyes before unbuttoning my cardigan and slipping into the hot tub.

The heat wrapped around me instantly, the contrast against the cold air making me shudder.

Bryan watched, his gaze dark, heated, as I settled beside him.

I raised an eyebrow. "Okay. We're here. Now what?"

He smirked, reaching out to tug me closer.

"Now," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear, "I finally get to see you in that bikini."

My stomach flipped, my entire body suddenly feeling much warmer than just a second ago.

Bryan's gaze dragged down my body, taking his time, and I could tell he was enjoying how flustered I was.

"You woke me up just to tease me, didn't you?" I muttered, trying to sound unimpressed even though my voice was already unsteady.

His lips tugged into that familiar smirk, the one that made my heart race every time.

"Maybe," he murmured. "Or maybe..."

His hand slid lower, fingertips grazing the curve of my hip, making me shudder beneath his touch.

"Maybe what?" I challenged, even though my voice wasn't as steady as I wanted it to be.

Bryan leaned in, his nose brushing just barely against mine, his lips hovering right there, teasing. Not touching, not yet.

"Maybe," he whispered, his voice low and rough, "I just really wanted to kiss you."

And then—he did.

His lips crashed into mine, slow and deep, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me fully onto his lap. The water swirled around us, but I barely noticed because all I could feel was him—his warmth, his touch, the way he kissed me like he had been waiting for this all night.

I melted into him, my hands sliding up his chest, over his shoulders, into his hair.

And God, his tattoos.

The way the steam made his inked skin glisten, how the moonlight caught on the dark, swirling lines decorating his arms.

I had seen them a hundred times before, traced them with my fingers, admired the way they stretched over his muscles—but here, under the glow of the hot tub, he looked unreal.

Bryan must have noticed me staring because he smirked against my lips.

"You like them, don't you?" he murmured.

I blushed, refusing to answer.

He chuckled, grabbing my hand and guiding it along his arm, over the curve of his bicep, down to where the ink disappeared beneath the water.

"You can touch me all you want, Amber," he said, his voice like gravel and honey.

I shivered, not from the cold, but from the way my body reacted to him so easily.

Then, as if my brain had been waiting for the right moment to torture me, a flash of memory hit me—Costa Rica, the tent, the hot spring.

His lips on my neck.

His hands, tracing over every inch of me.

The way he whispered my name in the dark.

The way he kissed every part of me, including the scars I had tried so hard to hide.

I swallowed hard, my breath catching in my throat as my body remembered everything.

Bryan must have noticed, because his grip tightened, his lips trailing down my jaw, lower, brushing against my pulse.

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" he murmured against my skin.

I swallowed hard. "Thinking about what?"

His teeth grazed my neck, just barely.

"Costa Rica."

A soft gasp escaped me, and Bryan smirked against my skin.

"Yeah," he murmured, his lips returning to mine, this time hungrier, deeper. "Me too."

His hands slid up my back, fingertips pressing just enough to send a shiver down my spine.

"You were so nervous back then," he murmured between kisses, his voice low, rough.

I let out a breathy laugh. "I'm still nervous now."

Bryan pulled back slightly, his dark eyes locking onto mine, the corner of his mouth curving up in that lazy, knowing smirk.

"Good," he whispered. "I like making you nervous."

I barely had time to process that before he kissed me again, this time deeper.

The kiss deepened, his lips pressing harder against mine, his hands sliding down my back, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. The heat of the water was nothing compared to the heat radiating off his skin, the hard planes of his chest against me, the way his fingers dug into my waist.

My legs were already straddling his lap, the warm water swirling around us as he shifted slightly beneath me. The movement sent a sharp spark of awareness through my body, and suddenly, I was too aware of everything—the solid press of his thighs under me, the way his hands slid down to grip my hips, the way he exhaled against my lips like he was barely holding himself back.

"Bryan..." I whispered, my voice unsteady.

He hummed against my lips, his smirk returning. "Sí, preciosa?"

His voice was low, dark, the Spanish rolling off his tongue in a way that sent a shiver down my spine.

I felt lightheaded, my heart racing so fast it felt impossible to slow down. Bryan must have felt how tense I was, because his hands moved up again, his thumbs stroking my sides, soothing and teasing all at once.

"Relax, Amber," he murmured, his lips trailing slowly from my mouth down to my jaw, then lower, grazing the soft skin of my neck. "I got you."

I squeezed my eyes shut, my fingers threading through his damp hair as he tilted his head, kissing and nipping at my pulse.

I couldn't stop the soft sound that escaped my lips.

Bryan groaned, his grip on my hips tightening.

My thighs tightened instinctively around his waist, and I swore I felt him tense beneath me.

Then, before I could think too much about it, Bryan's hands slid lower, gripping my hips harder, pressing me down against him.

A sudden rush of heat coiled low in my stomach.

I gasped, my fingers gripping his shoulders. "Bryan—"

He groaned, his head falling back slightly, his dark eyes blown with heat when he looked at me again.

"You feel that, mi cielo?" His voice was hoarse, his fingers gripping tighter before rolling my hips against his again—slow, deliberate, teasing.

I bit my lip, my breath catching as a deep shiver ran through me.

It was barely anything—just the slow friction of my swimsuit against his, but the sensation was new, intense, completely overwhelming.

Bryan let out a low curse, his hands moving up and down my waist, controlling the movement.

I felt dizzy, every single nerve in my body hyper-aware of how good this felt, of how easy it was for him to make me fall apart with the smallest of touches.

"Bryan..." My voice was barely a whisper, and I could feel his smirk against my neck.

At that moment, Bryan rolled his hips up to meet mine.

A sharp gasp escaped my lips, my nails digging into his shoulders.

His own breath hitched, his grip on me tightening.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice raspier now. His forehead rested against my shoulder, his hands gripping my waist so hard it almost hurt—but in the best way.

Then, he moved again.

Slow. Torturously slow.

A deep, shuddering groan left him, and I swore I heard him whisper something filthy in Spanish under his breath.

"Tan jodidamente perfecta..."

I wasn't sure what was more intoxicating—the way his body moved against mine, or the fact that he was losing control just as much as I was.

My fingers tightened in his hair, my body reacting on its own, arching into him as the heat between us became unbearable.

His lips found mine again, desperate, needy, like he couldn't get enough.

I kissed him back just as hard, dizzy with how good this felt, how right it felt.

I never wanted it to stop.

Bryan's lips were hot against mine, his hands moving over my body like he was memorizing every inch of me. His fingers tightened on my hips, guiding me against him in a slow, deliberate rhythm, every shift sending a pulse of heat curling through my stomach.

I couldn't think straight.

I didn't want to.

Because all that mattered was this—him, us, the way he felt against me, the way I melted into every touch.

His breath was rough, uneven, his hands trembling slightly as they skimmed down my back, grazing over my waist before dipping lower.

I shivered, my nails digging into his shoulders as his fingers toyed with the edge of my swimsuit bottoms, his touch teasing, questioning.

"Amber..." His voice was low, gravelly with restraint. His forehead rested against mine, his breaths ragged as he looked at me—really looked at me.

I knew what he was asking.

And I knew my answer.

I nodded, swallowing hard, my fingers sliding up into his hair, pulling him down for another kiss.

That was all he needed.

His fingers slid beneath the fabric, pushing my swimsuit bottom aside, and I barely had time to register the change before he was lining himself up against me, his tip brushing where I was already aching for him.

A sharp gasp caught in my throat, my whole body tensing at the feeling of him right there.

Bryan froze immediately, his grip on my waist firm but careful.

His lips skimmed against my ear, voice low, rough.

"Tell me if you need me to stop."

I shook my head, my pulse pounding so hard I could feel it everywhere.

"I need you," I whispered, my nails dragging lightly across his back.

Bryan let out a low, shuddering breath, his fingers tightening on my hips.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice strained, and then—he pushed himself inside me, slowly, carefully.

A sharp inhale caught in my throat, my body stretching, adjusting around him as he filled me completely.

Bryan let out a low, shuddering groan, his head falling back against the edge of the hot tub. His jaw clenched, his muscles tensing beneath me as he tried to keep himself from thrusting up into me too fast.

"Fuck..." he gritted out, his eyes squeezing shut for a second before snapping open again, locking onto mine.

And God, the way he looked at me—like I was the only thing that mattered in this world.

"Tan perfecta..." he muttered, his voice strained, his hands tightening around my waist as he exhaled through his nose.

I bit my lip, my fingers digging into his tattooed shoulders, my pulse pounding everywhere.

It wasn't my first time with him anymore, but it still felt new, overwhelming, like every time we touched, I was rediscovering a side of myself I didn't know existed.

And right now, I wanted more.

Bryan's grip tightened, his fingers digging into my waist like he was holding back everything inside him.

"Move, cariño," he murmured, his voice low, dark, commanding.

A shiver ran through me at his tone, but instead of obeying right away, I stayed still, loving the way his muscles tensed beneath my hands.

"You're teasing me," he muttered, his voice hoarse, his jaw flexing.

I bit back a smile, feeling a rush of confidence as I slowly rolled my hips.

Bryan let out a deep, guttural groan, his fingers tensing, gripping me harder.

"Fuck... Amber..." His head fell back against the tub again, his dark eyes blown wide with heat, his abs tensing with every movement.

I did it again—just a little faster this time—and his hands snapped up to my waist, gripping me like he was barely keeping himself in control.

"That's it" he breathed, his voice breaking slightly, his grip guiding my rhythm. "Just like that."

I moaned softly, my fingers curling into his damp hair, my body pressing against his chest as I moved against him.

The friction, the heat, the way he fit inside me so perfectly. Bryan let out a low curse, his hands running up and down my sides, his lips finding my shoulder, my collarbone, my throat, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses wherever he could reach.

I clung to him, my body shaking, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter inside me as our movements grew more desperate, more erratic.

"Bryan..." My voice hitched, my breath coming fast, uneven.

He groaned, his fingers pressing into my skin harder.

"You close, amor?" His voice was ragged, barely holding together.

I nodded quickly, my thighs trembling, every muscle in my body tight with pressure.

He groaned low in his throat, his hands sliding up my back, holding me against him.

"Let go, preciosa," he murmured.

And then—I did.

The tension snapped all at once, pleasure crashing over me in waves, stealing my breath, my vision, everything.

I clung to him, my body shuddering, pulsing around him, my breath catching in my throat as I fell apart in his arms.

Bryan wasn't far behind.

A low, broken groan rumbled from his chest, his fingers gripping me tight as he thrust up one last time, his body tensing beneath me as he followed me over the edge.

I felt him shudder, his lips muffling his deep curses into my neck, his breath hot and uneven against my skin.

For a few seconds, neither of us moved.

Our breaths mingled in the cold air, our bodies still tangled, still connected, as the steam from the water swirled around us.

His arms wrapped around me fully, like he had no intention of letting go anytime soon.

And I didn't want him to.

I rested my forehead against his, my fingers tracing mindless patterns over his shoulders, my body still humming from everything that had just happened.

Bryan let out a shaky breath, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips.

"Te amo, mi cielo," he murmured. "I'll never get enough of you."

I smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.