They had spent the day walking along the Thames, from the Big Ben to St. Paul’s Cathedral and then the Tower Bridge, then made their way toward Piccadilly Circus, where he lost Alejandra in the massive Waterstones. She emerged with a heavy bag full of books she enthusiastically explained to him—some about myths, some with fae and monsters, and others full of romance. Her enthusiasm was contagious. She mentioned she only bought books in airports or through the internet, and she missed the feeling of going to an actual bookstore and choosing the book based on a recommendation or the cover. Plus, apparently books in the UK were cheaper than Spain and she had packed light for that very reason. While listening to her, Callum carried the bag all the way home while she insisted the books were actually very educational.
She had lowered her voice in the elevator, the shift so subtle and deliberate it sent a ripple of heat straight through him. Her right hand slid over the front of his jeans, slow, possessive, like she already knew exactly what she was doing to him. His pulse spiked instantly, breath catching in his throat.
“They teach me things we could do together,” she murmured, her lips brushing just close enough to his that he could feel the warmth of her words, the promise tucked inside them.
His jaw clenched on instinct.
Fuck.
The elevator suddenly felt too small. Too warm. Every second stretched tight with tension, with everything he wasn’t letting himself do. His hands twitched at his sides, resisting the urge to grab her, to pin her against the wall, to find out exactly what those “things” were—right there, consequences be damned.
But the memory of Miss Isabel’s glare earlier that day cut sharply through the haze. The warning in it. The very real possibility of being caught.
Not here.Not yet.
He exhaled slowly through his nose, eyes dark as they locked onto hers. “You really shouldn’t start something you’re not ready to finish,” he muttered, voice low, strained with restraint.
Because if she kept looking at him like that—touching him like that—he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hold back.
When the elevator opened, Alejandra walked out with a smirk on her peachy lips. As he followed, still sporting an erection, to his utter annoyance, voices filtered from inside his flat.
“I thought you lived alone,” Alejandra frowned.
His dick went limp in a matter of seconds at the realization.
“I do. But I made the terrible mistake of giving my spare keys to Asma and Leif.”
As they rounded the corner into the living room, not only were Asma and Leif there, but Sebastian and Omar too.
“We came to say hi to Ale!” Asma grinned, jumping up from where she’d been snuggled against Omar. She practically launched herself into a hug, just before a soft “oof” escaped Alejandra.
“I’m sorry, your shoulder!” Asma gasped.
“It’s fine,” Alejandra winced, brushing it off. “It’s way better now.”
“Doesn’t look like it,” Sebastian muttered, concern flashing across his face.
“Imagine how it was before,” Alejandra said, smiling and hugging him back carefully.
“You look good as ever,” Omar added, kissing her cheek.
She chuckled, patting his shoulder. “You look good, too.”
“Omar and I are officially a couple,” Asma jumped up, smiling maybe too brightly.
Alejandra, fully updated on the Leif–Asma drama, nodded with that polite, pressed-lip smile that said‘I see everything and I’m judging you silently.’
“I’m happy for both of you. Callum had mentioned it.” Then she turned to Leif, waving at him and hugging him in.
“Hey, Ale,” he smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Sofia showed me the robot you built for the whale project—it’s amazing.”
Callum clocked it immediately, what Alejandra was trying to do. And Leif’s facial expression brightened at the mention of his side project. Callum needed to talk to him. It sucked seeing his best mate hurting, especially over someone who might never see him the way he wanted. Leif was a good guy. He deserved better.
The conversation moved to safer territory—Leif nerding out, Asma chiming in, Alejandra navigating it all with calm charisma while Sebastian, Omar and him glanced at a rugby game on tv. Callum slid onto the sofa beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She tucked into his side like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You lot, whenever you feel like leaving, please do,” Callum finally said, once the game was over, catching Omar yawning.
