Indiana exhales. “Things aren’t always what they look like.”

But it’s exactly what it looks like—my boyfriend and my best friend are drunk and high, and moments away from hooking up right in front of me. Which is why Indiana pointed me toward the window, instead of down the stairs to the beach.

Penelope settles onto the top step, and Holden holds the joint for her while she sucks on it. There’s something intimate and familiar about the way they touch each other. As if it’s not happening for the first time. As if I’m watching something I was never meant to see.

They’re together.

My face burns. I inhale, trying to put out the fire kindling deep in my chest.

My relationship with Holden may not conform to standard norms and boundaries—we’re hardly your standard couple—but we do have boundaries. And he will pay for breaching them.

I square my shoulders.

“I’ve been where you are,” Indiana whispers. “Acting on impulse cost me two friendships.”

I squeeze his hand lightly as I remove it from my arm. “I never act on impulse.”

I walk across the room as if nothing’s wrong—as if my best friend and my boyfriend haven’t crossed a line none of us can ever uncross. Holden and Pen are laughing. They don’t know I’m there until I lean down between them and pluck the joint from Penelope’s hand.

“Thanks.” I take a long hit and hold it for a second. Then I blow it into their faces. “Since we’re obviously sharing things now.”

I leave them staring after me as I head down the stairs toward the beach.

75 HOURS EARLIER

MADDIE

Something pokes me in the side. My eyes open, and bright bolts of sunlight spear my head. “Wha . . . ?”

Someone groans near my ear, and the entire world seems to sway around me. And beneath me.

“Maddie!”

I freeze, then roll my eyes to see as much of my surroundings as possible without triggering another nauseating sway.

Ryan stares down at me through a fine sheet of mesh, which my groggy mind labels “mosquito netting.” Because I’m in Parque Tayrona, in a hut on the beach. In a hammock.

That groan comes again, and an arm falls over my bare stomach.

Oh, shit. I’m in a hammock with a guy.

“Help me up,” I whisper, humiliation burning in my cheeks. How did I wind up in a hammock with a guy half wrapped around me?

My brother pulls back the mosquito netting and helps me climb out of the hammock without waking . . . Um . . .

Benard.

The boy from Belgium who speaks French, Spanish, English, and German. Who knows about Greek philosophy, French wine, and Caribbean tides.

The boy I spent the night with.

No no no no . . . Panicked, I glance down and am relieved to see that I’m still wearing my bikini and board shorts. The rest of my memory falls into place as Ryan shoves my T-shirt at me.

Benard and I shared a couple of puffs of whatever Nico passed us, then came back to his hammock, where we made out for a while, then . . .

Did I fall asleep in the middle of a hookup?

My flush deepens. Two drinks and a couple of hits shouldn’t have been enough to knock me out. Should they?

I check my insulin level as I follow my brother down the steps to the beach. It’s a little low, but not terrible.

“Are you okay?” Ryan drops a granola bar at my feet as I plop down on the sand. “Do I need to go beat some manners into that predator?”

“Relax. Nothing happened.”

My brother sighs as he sinks onto the sand next to me. “I’m not judging. I’m worrying.”

“I can fend for myself.” It’s not Benard’s fault I can’t handle my liquor. “And he’s not a predator. He’s a classics major.”

“The two are not mutually exclusive,” Ryan insists.

I roll my eyes at him and grab the granola bar. “If I eat this, will you go away?”

Ryan scruffs my hair, like he used to when I was a kid. “Only long enough to get us some water.” He heads toward the restaurant, and his shadow stretches across the sand behind him.

“Bonjour, belle,” Benard says, and I turn as he steps onto the sand from the stairs. Something flutters deep in my stomach as he pulls me to my feet and slides his arms around me. “The night got cold, and I enjoyed your warmth.” He leans in to press a kiss beneath my ear, and suddenly I am tingling all over.

“I enjoyed yours too.” I slide my arms behind his neck and inhale the scent of his sunscreen.

The sun casts a halo around his dark hair. “Will you excuse me while I find my toothbrush?”

“Of course.” I need to find mine too.

Benard kisses my forehead, then heads back up the stairs.

I head for the restaurant to find my brother, hoping he packed toothpaste, and on the way, I hear Holden and Genesis arguing behind the communal bathroom.

“You’re completely overreacting.” His tone drips with tedium. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but—”

“You crossed a line. So here’s how this is going to go.” Genesis’s voice is like a wall of ice. “You’re going to be the ideal boyfriend for the remainder of spring break. If you even look at Penelope again, I’ll slip the nearest soldier a fifty to give you a thorough search for contraband. Which he will find. And I will leave your ass to rot in a Colombian prison.”

I squat to brush sand from my feet, trying to listen inconspicuously. I can’t help myself.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?” Holden demands, but his question lacks conviction.

“Extreme would be calling in Colombia’s finest right now. I’m being pretty damn generous. So go pack. We’re done with Cabo.”

No way. We just got here!

“Nico’s taking us to see some ruins in the jungle.”

Queen G has spoken, and her subjects will no doubt follow her into the wilderness. But that doesn’t mean I have to go.

When I stand again, I find Benard heading down the beach from the hut, wearing a fresh set of swim trunks. Sunscreen glistens on his skin. I start to jog toward him, but someone grabs my arm.

“Salut,” Milo says as I pull my arm from his grip.

“Salut,” I return. But my gaze is glued to Benard as he heads for a group that’s just emerged from the jungle path, carrying hiking gear.