Here we go.
She always did this. Poked the sore spot like it wouldn’t stillbe raw. If it wasn’t her traitorous mind, it was her best friend who couldn’t shut up about what happened between them.
“Nope. As I’ve said a thousand times.”
“But I think you two could be so good together,” Sofia whined.
Alejandra groaned, hand covering her face. “Sofi, please. Drop it, alright? We made a deal. One night, then no contact. It was necessary.”
“But why?” she whined again.
Why?
Because if they hadn’t stopped, she wouldn’t have left the room. She wouldn’t have stopped talking to him. Because it had turned into something more so fast it scared the shit out of her.
They’d fucked for hours. Then gone back to the wedding party. Then she’d dragged him to her room again and let him do whatever he wanted to her. And the worst part? She hadn’t wanted it to end.
Callum was perfect. And that was exactly the problem.
He was a damn accountant from London who looked like Superman—wavy dark hair, piercing blue eyes, fair skin, stubble that should’ve been illegal. He was a walking distraction, and she couldn’t afford distractions. Not when she was trying to win her third USL title and win the Olympics in the same year. Always chasing that next goal that made her feel alive.
“You know why. It wouldn’t have worked. I have to focus,” she said firmly. “Better to keep it a great one-night than risk turning it into a heartbreak.”
“You’re both so cynical.”
“That’s because you found love. Not everyone is meant to.”
“So… you thought he was husband material?”
Yes.
“No. That would be stupid. I spent less than 48 hours with the man four months ago. That’s insane, Sofi.”
Sofia clicked her tongue. Alejandra could practically see the face she was making through the phone. One eyebrow raised, narrowed eyes giving that impression of doubt, lips pressed together, pursed, and maybe her head tilted to the side.
“So, you’re telling me you’re not thinking about him?”
Yes.
“Nope.”
“Okay.” Sofia sighed, clearly unconvinced. “Do you want me to find out if he has a girlfriend?”
Yes.
“No, Sofi. Don’t bother.”
“Fine,” she said with a long-suffering breath. “Good luck tomorrow. I know you’ll be amazing.”
“Thanks, amiga. Have fun in London.”
When the call ended, Alejandra tossed the phone to the other end of the couch and let her head fall back.
The ocean stretched out before her, glittering in the morning sun. It used to be her favorite color. Now it was ruined. Because all she could see in that endless blue was him, and Alejandra needed her brain to be sharp for what she wanted from that new season.
12
CALLUM
