“Yeah. Comp starts in four months, in January. Pipeline, Hawaii.”
“You placed second last year, right?”
“Yep,” she popped the p, sounding way bitter than he expected. “How do you know?”
“I might have followed you at the Olympics and then kept tabs on you over the years,” he admitted, trying to not sound like the creep he felt.
Alejandra hummed, smiling now. “Well, this year, I’m winning everything. USL title and Olympics.”
The confidence in her voice was intoxicating. She knew her worth.
“Are you already qualified for the Olympics?”
“Not yet.”
“You seem like someone who always gets what she wants.”
She bit her bottom lip, eyes locked on his. For one second—just one—he was certain she was about to say something bold. Maybe tell him to meet her after dinner. Maybe grab his shirt and kiss him.
Instead, she gave a slow smile. “You need confidence in the water.”
“It suits you,” he said, leaning slightly closer. The buffet line had shifted, and so had they. Now only a breath apart.
She tilted her head up to meet his gaze. Smaller than he expected. Wilder. And ten times more dangerous.
She didn’t back away.
He was one heartbeat away from kissing her, or dragging her into the villa for something completely inappropriate, when the music shifted and Sofia and Ilias stepped forward for their welcome speech.
The spell broke.
They both turned, laughter and applause erupting around them. But Callum didn’t forget that look. And judging by the way Alejandra lingered by his side, neither did she.
7
ALEJANDRA
Dancing in A Hurricane - Freya Ridings
Alejandra feltthe pull of her own impulses, even as her duty as maid of honor kept her anchored. Sofia needed her. The thought of being in the spotlight alone was enough to send panic spiraling through her friend’s mind. Sofia had never sought attention, had never wanted eyes on her like this. Too bad it was her wedding weekend and she was literally the center of the attention, which meant that Alejandra, being the maid of honor, needed to be available to her 24/7.
And yet, across the room, a distraction stood watching.
A strikingly attractive accountant with the kind of jawline that could have belonged to Superman. An ex-swimmer from Harvard—how life had funneled him into spreadsheets instead of something more fitting, she couldn’t understand. He was, without question, one of the most attractive men she had ever seen, and she didn’t say that lightly. He was exactly the kind of man she imagined when she read her romancenovels—the perfect book boyfriend, suddenly real, standing just meters away. Broad shoulders stretching a linen shirt, forearms bare as he leaned against the table, his gaze fixed on her like she was the only woman in the room.
And still, she forced herself to look away.
Tonight wasn’t about her.
And even though Sofia wasn’t truly forcing her to be by her side, Alejandra knew she needed her. Her best friend never was the chatty one, not even the fame that came with her content creator career and her relationship with Ilias had changed anything, not even when the people surrounding them were all family and friends.
They spent the night dancing, laughing, and eating. Long wooden tables were covered with half-empty wine bottles, plates smeared with olive oil and sea salt, grilled fish still steaming, lemons squeezed between fingers, bread torn apart and shared. The air smelled like rosemary, citrus, and warm skin. Music floated lazily between conversations, and candlelight made everything softer. Alejandra barely sat still, constantly pulled to Sofia’s side, refilling her glass, fixing her hair, laughing when she laughed, and trying to make her very stressful night a little less overwhelming.
It was everything she had always wanted for Sofia, for her big day, shared with another person she truly loved. Seeing Sofia happy, that was everything to her, and seeing her with Ilias, that meant even more because that guy was going to protect her, to cherish her, and she was sure about it even before listening to his vows.
As she was heading to grab a Puerto de Indias, weaving between chairs and brushing against bodies warm from dancing, a voice got her attention—deep, strong, one that made her weak in the knees.
“Did you have fun tonight?”
