“Sofia asked if we should meet right away…” Carlos added, gesturing toward the car’s screen where the message had popped up.
Alejandra exhaled slowly.
“I’ll need to rest a bit. Just a one-hour nap. I really don’t want to turn into a headline by insulting the entire event because I didn’t sleep.”
They both nodded, leaving her to her own devices once more.
Her heart began to thunder softly in her chest.
Why had she even agreed to be there?
Sofia owed her one for this. That was for damn sure.
22
CALLUM
Porfa No Te Vayas - Morat, Beret
They’d beento Ericeira two years ago, trying to pry information about Neptune out of Sofia.
Who would have thought they’d come away with an incredible friend and scientific partner? And, quite possibly, the woman responsible for pushing him into the path of the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen—only to share a night that felt like fireworks and then be thrown straight into radio silence.
God, what a fucked-up life.
But according to Sofia, Alejandra would be at the USL Championship. So maybe—just maybe—that no-contact chapter was finally coming to an end.
Seven months. He had waited seven months to get her back. He’d done everything he could not to text her, sticking to Sofia’s plan. According to her, Alejandra had been in a fragile place, and Sofia hadn’t wanted to push her. She needed time, time to process what had happened to her body and find her way back to the confident woman she’d always been.
At least, that’s what her best friend believed, and she definitely knew Alejandra better than him.
April in Ericeira wasn’t exactly warm. It was cloudy and grey, and he wore a light jacket to protect himself from the cold wind sweeping in from the sea. And yet, he was surprisingly happy. The ocean was nearby, and it reminded him of home.
After dropping his things off in the apartment Sofia had rented for him, he waited for her to pick him up and head to Ribeira d’Ilhas, where the USL event was being held.
When she arrived, to his great disappointment, Alejandra wasn’t with her. Probably noticing the change in his face, Sofia grinned. “She’s coming, don’t worry. She’s resting her shoulder after the car ride from Conil.”
“I didn’t ask,” he said, smiling as he hugged her hello.
“You didn’t have to,” she replied with a knowing smirk. “Ready to lift boxes and work more than just cushy office hours?”
“Gosh, I think I’d have come no matter what. London’s getting… monotone and my cushy hours last days,” he admitted, running a hand through his recently cropped hair. He did it at the start of every year ever since a barbershop near his house began donating the proceeds to a local hospital’s pediatric cancer research program. It was like a reset for him.
“It reminds me of when I lived in Milan. I’m so much happier now by the sea. Maybe it’ll inspire a change of life for you too.”
“I wouldn’t think twice. What’s the plan for today?”
Sofia shouted something in Portuguese—or was it Spanish or Italian?—to a nearby driver. He was terrible with languages that weren’t English—or Welsh, though even that one had faded over the years abroad. He could still understand it, but he’dlost the ease of speaking it. Then she muttered, “And then they say Italians can’t fucking drive.”
After a short exchange in whatever language that was, she turned back to him. “So, today’s about setting up decorations and the entire booth. Elvira and Penelope will be there to help, plus two guys volunteered to give you a hand. I know it’s a lot of work. Asma vouched for them after I sent her their CVs, so they should be helpful.”
“Thanks. I could’ve handled it myself.”
“Yeah, but with Ale around, I know Lamina won’t be your main focus.”
Callum scoffed. “Still Team Cale?”
“Yep. Forever.” She grinned. “She’s a little grumpy after the surgery. They told her she’d need a year off now—more than the six months they first predicted. The tear in her shoulder was worse than they thought, so she has to be extra careful. It pissed her off.”
