Kissing Eden Read online

  If they were trying to stifle their laughter, they failed. “Dude, you just spilled your drink all over that girl.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry.” The offender barely uttered the words before he plunged into the crowd and disappeared.

  I looked down at my jeans and the stain that had bled from my thigh to the mid-point of my shin. At least I was entering baggage claim where I could retrieve my bag and change clothes. Only, the carousel circled several times, the flip-flop girls were on their way with their luggage and mine was missing.

  I trudged over to the baggage desk. “Excuse me. My luggage didn’t arrive from Raleigh.”

  “Fill out this form.” The man behind the counter didn’t even bother to look at me. He typed something with one hand and tossed a pen with the other.

  “But, I’m supposed to catch a shuttle to my hotel. Can you try to track it first? I was bumped from my last flight and maybe it arrived before I did. I have my baggage claim ticket right here.” I held up the small barcode stapled to my boarding pass.

  “Like I said, fill out the form.”

  Begrudgingly, I took the pen and inserted all the necessary information into the blanks on the missing luggage form.

  “Do you think you can tell me where it is?” I asked sweetly, hoping he would take pity on me.

  The man glanced over the sheet on the clipboard and resumed his typing. “We’ll call you when we locate your bag.”

  There was a line forming behind me. I wasn’t the only one who had an issue with traveling today.

  “Ok. Thank you.” I didn’t want to thank the man. He hadn’t done anything and he wasn’t the least bit helpful, but the fate of my suitcase was in his hands and barking at him wouldn’t nudge him along any faster.

  I thought back to the pictures on the website of the resort. When I checked in, I could take a hot steamy shower and curl up in one of those fluffy robes while I waited for my luggage. I smiled. A twenty-minute shuttle ride was all that separated me from resort luxury.

  I stepped out into the baggage pickup and searched for the shuttle the resort advertised. I felt empty-handed as I watched the travelers around me struggle with their suitcases. At the end of the sidewalk was a small bus marked with the emblazoned sun logo for the Island Sun Resort. I marched toward it.

  The driver jogged down the steps. “No luggage, young lady?”

  “No. It’s lost.” I looked up at the bus. It was packed with more spring breakers who had flown in from all over the country.

  “Maybe they’ll find it for you by the end of the week.” He laughed. I hoped he was joking. I didn’t have a stitch of clothing with me other than what I had on. I couldn’t spend the entire week in a spa robe.

  I followed him up the stairs and took the first seat at the front of the shuttle. It felt like all eyes were on me, or maybe they were just focused on the big soda stain on my jeans. I sat straight and looked out of the window. Warm beaches. Sun in my face. Salt breeze in my hair.

  The driver pulled away from the curb and I inhaled a mixture of diesel, stale air conditioning, and an overload of guys’ cologne. With each mile I traveled, I was becoming more disenchanted with spring break and my idea to make it on my own.

  Then I saw it. Out of nowhere, the island sprawled out in front of us, filling the entire windshield of the shuttle. As the driver careened the bus up over the bridge, I marveled at the view in front of me. The water was a deep turquoise and the white beaches stretched out in front of the shoreline. I retrieved my tortoise-shell sunglasses from my bag and eased them on. The setting sun behind us, cast an intense orangy glow over the island, like part of it was on fire. It was hard to ignore the joy I felt watching the sunlight dancing on the water. I wanted the driver to take his time crossing the bridge, so I could capture every beautiful ounce of this postcard-esque picture.

  My brief moment of Zen was abruptly interrupted when my fellow passengers noticed their destination was in site. The party antics ramped up in the back row.

  “Padre, baby!” I didn’t have to turn around to know the flip-flop girls had started the chant. Luckily, it wasn’t far from the bridge to the resort.

  The driver pulled into the side entrance of the Island Sun Resort, designated for guest arrivals and departures. Everything looked exactly like it did on the website. Palm trees and tropical flowers lined the sidewalk. I loved the deep red hibiscus blooms, climbing the trellises. Flames flickered in the gas torches by the front door.

  I smiled as I stepped off of the bus and inhaled the salty air. I tilted my head to the side confirming that the rumbling sound was waves meeting the shore. I made it—I finally made it to South Padre. It didn’t matter that I was alone and couldn’t claim a group like the flip-flop girls as my spring break buddies. Even the fact that my luggage was missing didn’t frustrate me like it did at the airport. All the perfect paradise ingredients surrounded me. Warm beaches. Sun in my face. Salt breeze in my hair.

  Since I didn’t have to wait for the driver to unload my luggage, I walked through the sliding glass doors and into the hotel lobby. My step was a little giddier than usual.

  I approached the front desk and pulled out my ID, feeling the rush of the trip lighting all my senses.

  “I’m here to check in,” I announced triumphantly.

  The girl behind the counter smiled warmly and brushed her auburn bangs from her eyes. I instantly liked her. “The name?” She couldn’t be much older than me.

  “Brady. Eden’s my first name.” I slid my ID across the counter.

  “Hmm.” She typed quickly and scrunched her nose. “Could it be under another name?”

  “No. I made the reservation months ago. Eden Brady. I have the credit card here. Do you need it?” I flipped open my wallet, ready to present her with more plastic.

  She shot me a friendly smile and started punching the keys again. “I just don’t see it. Did you have a roommate by chance or did someone else make the reservation?”

  He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. I heard the high-pitched chatter of the flip-flop girls as they walked up behind me. “I did, but I’m certain he’s not here. I mean, that’s just not possible. Is it?”

  “Why don’t you give me the name and I’ll check?” she offered.

  My happy beach mood was drifting out with the tide. I sighed before saying his name. “Brett Richards.”

  The girl beamed triumphantly. “Oh yes, he’s here. He checked in.” She seemed relieved to have solved the mystery of my missing reservation.

  “What?” I didn’t want to cause a scene at the desk, but my voice rose from calm to shrill before I could curb my shock.

  “He checked into room 852.”

  This was unbelievable. Brett had checked into my room. I guess it was his room, too, but he lost that privilege when he broke up with me three days ago.

  “Can I please have a key?” I pleaded.

  Her happy smile quickly evaporated. “I’m sorry.” She whispered across the counter. “Your name isn’t on the reservation, so I can’t give you one. I shouldn’t have even told you the room number.”

  I clutched the shoulder strap on my bag—the only thing I had on this island. “But it was my room—our room. He took my room.” I inhaled deeply through my nose, feeling bits of anger begin to surface. “Ok, well, can I make another reservation?” The thought of staying in the same hotel with Brett wasn’t appealing, but I was running out of options and this resort was huge. We probably wouldn’t run into each other, and if we did there were thousands of people to hide behind.

  “Actually, no. It’s spring break. We were booked up two months ago.” I saw a look of pity and concern spread across her face.

  No, no, no. This wasn’t possible. I was homeless in South Padre. I stood at the counter, closed my eyes, and tried to grasp my options.

  “Are you going to be ok?” The girl whispered.

  “ Yes. Thank you, for your help.” I was visibly rattled from the information, but I side-stepped the newly arrived
guests and searched for the elevator. Embarrassed and mortified, I walked into the open elevator with a group who had just left the pool. They seemed unphased by the puddles their swimsuits dripped on the elevator tiles. As I watched the light for each floor we passed glow, my determination to see Brett grew stronger.

  My pace was hurried as I searched the room numbers on the eighth floor. I pounded on room 852’s door. “Brett, let me in! Brett!” I didn’t care if I looked like one of the deranged girls on Snapped. This was possibly the most horrible day I had ever experienced, and Brett had compounded all of it by stealing my hotel room.

  The door flew open, but instead of my handsome ex, I stood eye to eye with a petite brunette wearing a hot pink bikini and holding a beer in her hand.

  “Who are you?” I barged past her, not all that interested in her answer.

  “Brett?” she called out frantically. “Brett, there’s a lunatic in our room.”

  “Me? I’m not a lunatic.” I spun on my heels to face her. “You are in my hotel room with my—” I stopped short of saying boyfriend. This must be what people mean by an out of body experience. My words were soft and calm, but inside, I was boiling with rage.

  Brett emerged from the bathroom with a towel draped around his waist. Little beads of water trickled over his smooth chest. “Eden, what are you doing here? And what happened to your hair? Have you been drinking?” He eyed me suspiciously while reaching for the beer from the girl. He chugged a few swallows before passing it back to her.

  “Why does everyone keep acting like I’m not supposed to be here? I paid for this trip. My parents paid for it. You know that.” My fists dug into the sides of my hips to keep from slugging him. “Is this your definition of keeping your options open?” I nodded toward the girl who had taken a seat at the edge of the king-size bed.

  “You’re obviously upset. I think you should go.” Brett placed his hand on my shoulder like he was talking to a good friend he was concerned about. The gesture irritated me.

  “I’m not leaving. This is my room. If anyone should leave, it should be you. And you.” I glared at the girl. “I can’t believe you would do something like this.”

  Seeing Brett half-dressed and smugly tossing out orders disgusted me. I don’t know when he had transformed into this pompous ass, but I was actually glad I couldn’t be tied to him anymore. He was right—we had grown apart. However, he was the one who had grown into a royal dick.

  Brett launched into one of his smooth explanations. “Look, I paid for the room—it’s not in your parents’ name anymore. I tried to call you a few times, but you didn’t pick up. I’m sorry there was a mix-up, but I think we both know what this is really about.” His forehead creased. “You’re taking this breakup hard. It’s understandable you’d be upset, but don’t make a scene. You know I hate girl drama.”

  That was it. The words were like the cue I had been waiting to hear. My carefully planted fist flew up from the side of my hip and caught him under the chin. Brett reeled back into the arms of his nameless companion.

  “What the hell, Eden?” He massaged his chin.

  “Oh my God, Brett. Are you ok?” The bikini-clad girl leaned over to assess his injury. The way she touched him, I knew they weren’t new acquaintances.

  I exhaled. I couldn’t decide what I hated more: Brett or people saying “girl drama.” I had never punched anyone in my life, but I felt so much better.

  “Bye, Brett. Enjoy your spring break.” I swung the door open and slammed it behind me with as much force as I could muster.

  I didn’t know where I was going to find a place to stay for the week, but anywhere far from Brett was fine with me.

  By the time I returned to the lobby, the line of guests had dispersed. The nice girl at the counter smiled when she spotted me.

  “No luck?” she asked.

  “Not exactly. Ex-boyfriend disaster.” I sighed. “I know this is kind of a strange question to ask you, but could you recommend another hotel? I’m homeless and luggage-less.” I laughed. The whole scenario was absurd. I couldn’t stop the eruption of deep belly laughs.

  “Oh my God, that’s terrible. Everywhere is going to be booked up. March is the craziest month of the year on the island.” She pulled out her phone. “But I might know somewhere that isn’t booked—it’s not great, but at least you might have somewhere to stay.”

  My giggling fit ceased. “Thank you. I’d appreciate anything right now. I haven’t had dinner, or lunch, and I think I’m actually delirious.” That was going to be my excuse for punching Brett, even though he completely deserved it.

  “Ok, my friend just texted me and said the Palm Palace is open and has vacancies.” She reached for a sticky note.

  “Palm Palace?” It sounded like something out of a 1950s beach movie.

  “It’s a motel, but there are open rooms. Here’s the address.” She handed me a Post-it with an address and a phone number. “I’m Marin, by the way. If you need anything else, I put my number at the bottom too. Just text me. If any open rooms turn up here, I’ll let you know—just give me your cell.”

  “Thank you. This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me all day.” I jotted my digits down for her.

  “I can’t let your first trip to South Padre be anything but amazing. It’s the kind of place that’s hard to forget.” Her brown eyes softened. “It didn’t start out so great for you, but I have a feeling the week will turn around for you.”

  I winced at the tenderness in my knuckles as I tucked her number in my bag. “Thanks, Marin. I already feel like there’s no way I’ll forget this trip.”

  I turned toward the sliding doors and the line of taxis that had pulled up only seconds ago to unload the next round of travelers arriving from the airport. They scurried past me, talking about concerts, dance parties, and the hotel’s swim-up bar.

  Before he could hop in his van, I asked the first driver I spotted if he knew where the Palm Palace was. His raised eyebrow should have deterred me, but I was desperate and according to Marin the motel was the only place on the island I could stay. He motioned for me to sit in the second row, and peeled the van away from the curb. From the wide windows, I watched the Island Sun Resort, its fluffy white robes, endless sunset cocktails, and tropical flowers roll out of view.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Here you go.” The driver parked next to a cabin-sized building. A red vacancy sign illuminated the sidewalk with quick bursts of flashing light. He waited for me to pay him the five dollars it cost to drive two minutes from the Island Sun Resort.

  “This is the Palm Palace?” Nothing about the place looked palatial. I already missed the bright hibiscus flowers and the nice girl from the front desk.

  “Yep. You’re here.” The driver strummed his fingers along the steering wheel. I’m sure he had designated driving tips he wanted to collect, and wasn’t afraid to demonstrate his impatience. My hesitation was holding him up.

  I handed him a crisp five-dollar bill and pushed open the car door. Before I could climb back in, he had made a full U-turn and was back on the highway. I watched the taillights race toward the cluster of resorts and abundance of spring breakers. I pivoted on my heels to face the Palm Palace. The sign blinked in front of me. This was it—my only option.

  I smoothed out my shirt and took a deep breath. I reached for the handle on the office door, but it was stuck. I jiggled it a few times, trying to move it left or right until it broke off in my hand. Great, I already had damage charges and didn’t even have a room yet. I knocked on the door.

  The door whipped open. A towering figure stood in front of me. The light behind his head made it difficult to make out the features of his face, but I could see the outline of a chiseled jaw and broad shoulders.

  “I—uh—I broke your doorknob.” I offered the part to the shadowed guy.

  “Dammit,” he mumbled.

  “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to break it.” I followed him into the dim-lit office. In the side, a w
indow-unit hummed and blasted cool air into the small space. “Sorry.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve been meaning to fix that door.” He placed the doorknob next to the phone. “What do you need?” He exhaled through his teeth and glared at the broken piece of metal.

  The smell of fresh paint permeated the office. The corner of a paint can was exposed on the floor behind the desk. I watched as he nudged it out of view with his foot.

  “Maybe if you took better care of this place it wouldn’t break when your customers walked through the door.”

  “Tell me about it. Doorknobs are just the beginning. Wait, did you say customer? You have a reservation? I wasn’t expecting anyone tonight, and not for another week.” He rubbed his palm along the side of his face that I guessed hadn’t seen a razor in a week. His stubble was dark, like the rest of his brown hair. For the first time since I had walked in the office, he looked up.

  I was tired and irritated from the trip, but it’s not everyday you see eyes like that. Eyes that held depth and soul. Eyes that made me forget why I was so annoyed. Eyes that kept me locked in place. I stared a little too long, trying to think where I had seen that blue before.

  “I asked you a question. Do you have a reservation?” His snappy probing shook the trance I had entered.

  Not only was the Palm Palace falling apart, but it was also lacking in the customer service department. I really didn’t need this after the day I had, pretty blue eyes or not.

  “No, but I need one for the week. Apparently, this is the only place that has open rooms. Now I know why.” I frowned at the doorknob.

  Through the window, I could see that the pool was only half-full. A garden hose was draped over the ladder with a slow trickle of water running into the deep end.

  The guy looked me over. I was sure he saw the soda stain on my jeans. “Well, if it’s not up to your standards, don’t let me keep you.” He nodded toward the door that no longer had a doorknob.

  “No, it’s—” I searched for a word that wouldn’t insult him further. “—quaint.”