Why? She didn’t really know the reason.
Callum sounded and looked like the perfect book boyfriend, the kind she could imagine in every new book she picked up. No matter how the author described the male lead, they all ended up looking like Callum in her mind.
But somehow, her confidence had taken a hit with the injury. And even though he did not seem to care about the sling, the scars, or the fact that she was temporarily broken, she cared.
Her brother, on the other hand, looked like he had just been personally betrayed by the entirety of the universe, which was not normal for Carlos.
“Carlos…” She stopped him, throwing a pillow at him with her good arm. “Answer me.”
“Ignoring you is easier,” he snorted, looking around the living room, probably searching for something else he could fix, tighten, adjust, or dismantle just to keep his mind busy.
“You’re giving off very bad vibes. Could you at least explain why?”
“I thought you were the one in a foul mood.”
“I haven't been since Ericeira,” a smirk pulled at her lips.
“Of course not,” he scoffed. “Because whatever is going on with Superman is clearly working for you.” He paused, squinting at her. “Did you fuck him?”
“He went down on me in the market stall.” She grinned, enjoying the exact moment her brother’s face twisted in pure disgust.
At least it was another emotion.
“Ale, I really did not need to know that.”
“I bet you are upset because you did not go down on Ester or Amira,” she studied him carefully. “Should I bet on Amira?”
Carlos stopped in his tracks.
He dropped heavily onto the couch next to her and sighed like the weight of the world had just collapsed onto his shoulders.
“I… could you stop…” he groaned again. “I…”
He hid his face in a pillow like he was a teenager, muffling something she could not quite catch.
“Could you be an almost forty-year-old man and talk about your feelings without shame?” Alejandra sighed.
“I did! I fucking did!” he almost screamed, lifting his head from the pillow. “But she rejected me.”
“Ester? That one you could see coming,” she said, patting his shoulder sympathetically.
“No…” Carlos said in a whisper.
“Oh my God!” Alejandra almost jumped from the couch, the sudden movement sending a streak of pain through her left shoulder, but she barely noticed. “You spoke with Amira?”
“Yes, I—” he groaned again, rubbing his face with both hands. Shrek could hold a more fluid conversation than her brother at that moment. “I took her aside after her victory. We were chatting, as usual, about her performance and she—”
He stood up again, pacing the room like a caged animal.
“Remember that she started the fucking conversation mentioning Ester. She asked me if she was my girlfriend and I…”
“Please, be fluid with this gossip because you are making it way longer than it needs to be—”
“I told her that I did not want any girlfriend if she was not the one sharing her life with me.”
Carlos’ face was redder than a tomato.
Alejandra pressed her lips together, trying very hard not to react too quickly.
