Genevieve leaned her back against the door, her cheeks still burned from Stefan's teasing, and she pressed her palms to them, muttering, "Why does he have to say embarrassing things like that?"
She waited until she heard his retreating footsteps before opening the door slowly to bring in her suitcase which sat by the door like a quiet reminder of her flustered escape.
With a sigh, she dragged it inside and placed it near the wardrobe. The room smelled faintly of flowers, and the curtains danced gently in the evening breeze drifting in through the balcony door. She moved toward the balcony, sliding the door open, and stepped outside.
The view took her breath away. The ocean stretched far and wide, silver under the soft glow of the setting sun. The waves rolled and broke against the shore with a perfect rhythm. Genevieve leaned on the railing, letting the salty air kiss her face.
