“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” a voice cut in.
He’d shamelessly watched too many of her interviews not to recognize it. Alejandra’s voice was low and warm, textured,throaty, the kind that wrapped around him—and his cock—and made him think indecent things. And by the slow, assessing way her emerald eyes traced him, like a surfer reading a new wave, she might have been thinking indecent thoughts too. If that was true, and not just his delusion, he would’ve gladly let her.
“Nerd trio,” Sofia pointed to the group in front of them, “this is Alejandra, my best friend and maid of honor; Amira, my sister-in-law; Ghita, Amira and Ilias’ cousin, and Carlos, childhood friend and Alejandra’s brother.”
Amira was tall, her curls wild and sunlit, her smile effortless. Ghita looked like a smaller version of her, with bright brown eyes that stood out against her softer features. Carlos was Alejandra’s mirror—same sharp jaw, same dark eyes, same black hair. Genetics had done its work beautifully. Families like theirs always made him reflect on his own childhood—how quiet it had been. No cousins, no aunts or uncles. Just him, his mother, and his taid—his grandfather.
“And these are Leif, Asma, and Callum,” Sofia continued.
They exchanged handshakes.
When it was his turn with Alejandra, the fact that she stood there in a bikini did nothing to help him push those very inappropriate thoughts aside.
“Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Alejandra, but you can call me Ale.”
“Callum,” he replied, holding her hand just a little longer than necessary. “Why? Don’t you likeAlejandra?”
Her eyes widened slightly as she tilted her head. “How did an English speaking man nail my Spanish name like that?”
“I have many talents,” he smirked, omitting the fact that he had been practicing how to pronounce her name since he had known they were going to be at the same wedding.
Outwardly, he probably looked confident, smooth. Inside, he was shaking in his boots, pulse loud in his ears, and he wasalmost grateful when Ilias called for Alejandra, pointing toward the ocean where a clean swell was starting to roll in.
“Do you surf?” she asked. It sounded like a generalized question, but her eyes were set on him.
“No, we don’t,” he replied for everyone, knowing perfectly Asma’s aversion for anything athletic and Leif’s rejection of anything mildly dangerous. “My knee doesn’t like too many pop ups.”
Alejandra nodded slowly, her lips almost forming a pout. “What a pity.” She shrugged, then smiled. “Well, see you later, Callum of the Nerd Trio. It was good meeting you.”
“See you later, Alejandra.”
She walked toward a small shack stacked with boards, and he forced himself to focus back on Sofia, Asma, and Leif.
“I’m going to join them,” Sofia announced. “You’re welcome to do whatever you want. You’ll meet everyone else tonight at the rehearsal dinner.”
They nodded.
“I think we’re going to the beach too,” Asma said brightly.
“Put sunscreen on,” Sofia warned, pointing at Leif and Callum. “You two look like you’ve never seen the sun.”
Callum rolled his eyes. The last thing he needed was to be reminded that his life happened indoors. He knew something had to change, he just didn’t know how yet. What did he even like besides Lamina?
Well. He had an idea.
He liked Spanish pro surfers with green eyes, black hair, and an ass that absolutely begged to be squeezed. He’d always been an ass man, and fucking hell if Alejandra didn’t have the best one he’d ever seen.
“Let’s go,” Asma chirped. “That Carlos is hot.”
He didn’t miss the groan that escaped Leif or the pitying look on Sofia’s face. Everyone saw the truth. Everyone exceptAsma. Callum patted Leif’s shoulder as Asma immediately started grilling Sofia about Carlos—his age, his job, everything.
“I swear to God,” Leif muttered, “I’m going to drown myself.”
“You could just tell her,” Callum offered.
Leif shot him a look.
“And are you going to tell Alejandra you’ve had a crush on her forever?”
