“What does it mean?”
“Sweetheart. Or something like that.”
“So… can I call you that?”
“If you want.” Her cheeks betrayed her, flushing red.
He leaned closer, voice low, smug, dangerous.
“I think I will call youcariad.”
Her brows knitted. “What does that mean?”
“Love. Darling. Sweetheart in Welsh.” He paused, his gaze narrowing slightly on her mouth. “If you call me cariño, I will call you cariad. Deal?”
“Sure. But why?”
He did not answer.
He simply moved into her space, fully invading it, making her tilt her head back to look up at him. His large frame shielded her from the outside view. One hand found her neck, angling her chin gently.
His lips brushed hers, not quite a kiss, but enough to burn.
“Because we slept together, cariad,” he whispered, voice hoarse and slow. “We slept together, and we loved it. And I think it is time we started admitting that.”
Her entire body went electric. The pressure of his hand was not rough, just firm. Possessive. Her breath hitched.
“Y-yes. I think we should.”
His thumb ran slowly along her lower lip.
“Good girl. I knew you did not forget.”
How could she possibly forget? She was soaked just from that. Then voices. The volunteers returned. Callum stepped back, easy and unbothered, like he had not just verbally wrecked her entire nervous system.
He went back to his sandwich. She stared at him, legs wobbly, sanity completely gone.
30
CALLUM
NEXO 04. Tu cuerpo en braille - Nil Moliner
Callum neededsome alone time with Alejandra, but being in the middle of the Athlete Zone during a USL event final wasn’t exactly ideal for his intentions. So, he sucked it up, staying by her side, probably leaning a bit too close for what was appropriate. But she didn’t seem to mind.
Her green eyes were trained on the competition—the one she was supposed to be in. Amira, Ilias’ sister, was going head-to-head with a New Zealand girl for the final heat. Both looked incredible out there, in the opinion of someone who had surfed a couple of times when he was younger but abandoned it when life demanded a desk job and a post-grad degree. Truthfully, he had never been a surfer boy, more of a swimming pool person, which had led him to get that Harvard scholarship that had made his mother so proud.
As their gazes were trained on the waves, the wind coming from the ocean was chilly, biting through his jacket. He reached out and took Alejandra’s right hand, partly to warm her fingers, mostly for the excuse to touch her. She just glanced at him, her expression unreadable, before refocusing on the ocean. But her fingers laced through his.
When Amira won, Alejandra jumped to her feet, cheering. She was genuinely happy, but behind the brightness in her smile, Callum caught the flicker of longing. Of loss.
He couldn't let her spiral. And he couldn’t leave without reminding her what they could be. Not just emotionally. Physically.
“Come with me,” he said suddenly, tugging gently at her hand.
She followed him out of the Athlete Zone, no questions asked, just curious confusion clouding her brow.
By the time they reached Lamina’s booth, the kids had already packed most of the gear. The place was deserted. He sent a silent prayer of thanks to whatever divine force had cleared the path.
