by T. A. Foster
“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.
Kissing Eden is available now
Thank you to my family for bearing with me over the summer while I worked on Mason and Sydney’s story. I know it’s not easy while I’m in the writing cave, so thank you for supporting me.
I have an amazing team behind me. Nicole at Running Ink Edits, Sommer with Perfect Pear Creative Covers and the E.M. Tippetts crew—you all are the best! A special thank you to Brina at Mark My Words. I have loved working with you.
Thank you to the bloggers and readers who have continued to support me. You make this journey so much fun!
Fly
Written in the Sand
Head Over Heels Collection
London Falling
Kissing Eden (Book 1)
Loving Eden (Book 2)
A Very Grey Christmas (Book 3)
Hollywood Kiss Collection
Finding Haven (Book 1)
Red Lines (Book 2)
Ivy Grace Spell Series
Time Spell (Book 1)
Cover Spell (Book 2)
Fire Spell (Book 3)
The Nox Series
Dare (Book 1)
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Books by T.A. Foster
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
About the Author
Get started now on the Kissing Eden Series
Acknowledgments
Books by T.A. Foster