Chapter 7
SOFIA
La Tirita - Belén Aguilera, Lola Indigo
Alejandra arrived at Nereid Coffee Co., the beachside café overlooking Praia dos Pescadores, just as Sofia closed the laptop.
She’d been updating a boring Excel sheet for Elvira filled with all the data from the clean-up.
When she’d resigned from Neptune, she had na?vely believed she’d never have to open another spreadsheet again.
Someone should’ve warned her that being a business owner involved heavy and frequent use of them.
“Buenos días, rayo de sol,” Alejandra chirped, leaning down to hug her and kiss her cheek.
She had always been the more affectionate of the two, while Sofia considered personal space sacred.
She was starting to wonder if the absence of boundaries was a surfer thing.
Ilias certainly seemed to operate the same way.
“How’d you sleep?” Sofia asked, scooting her bag off the chair Alejandra had chosen as the salty breeze curled around them. It was mid-March; the air still held a chill, but the sun was warm against their faces.
“Cuddled up to my trophy,” Alejandra replied, her grin stretching wide.
No matter how many times she won, Alejandra never got tired of it. Olympic medal at home or not, she still lit up like a kid every time she nailed a comp.
“Must’ve been cozy.” Sofia teased, flagging down the waiter.
They both ordered meia de leite, a creamy coffee similar to a latte, and pastéis de nata, golden, flaky custard tarts with a caramelized top that melted in the mouth.
Warm, sweet, and slightly crispy, the tarts paired perfectly with the rich, comforting coffee, making it the kind of small indulgence that felt like a quiet celebration in every bite and sip.
Sofia loved having breakfast out, it was her favorite time of the day.
Wherever she was in the world, it was her guilty pleasure that reminded her of her parents who used to drag her to Italian and Spanish coffee shops while growing up.
Crazy how she used to be annoyed by it, while now, in her adult life, she was seeking the same thing she used to hate.
“When are you leaving?” Sofia asked, studying her best friend. Alejandra’s long face was framed by black hair dancing in the breeze. Her skin was sunkissed, as always, and her sharp green eyes, which had just been focused on the waves, shifted back toward Sofia.
“Tonight. We’re heading down to Conil for a week, then to Bali to train before the next tournament. We’ll stay longer than usual. Mom loves Bali.”
“She really does.” Sofia smiled.
Their families had spent summers together in Cádiz since they were kids. When the surf was flat in the summer, they’d drive to Portugal for the weekend just to chase better waves.
Even with Alejandra traveling around the world year-round, summer had always been sacred.
Sofia’s family would road trip from Genoa to Cádiz, and Alejandra’s family would fly in from wherever she and Carlos were competing.
It meant they knew each other’s families inside and out.
And because of that, because she knew Alejandra down to the bone, Sofia knew something was up.
Her friend had that look.
“What is it?” Sofia asked, cocking an eyebrow as she watched Alejandra dump sugar into her coffee. “You’ve got that expression of someone dying to tell me something but also convinced it’s a bad idea.”
Alejandra bit her lower lip. “If I tell you, promise not to get mad?”
“Is it about Ilias?” Sofia practically spat out the name. Mostly because she was mad at herself. She had spent the entire night refreshing news tabs to see if he’d been disqualified, banned, or penalized by the USL. Like she cared.
“Yep,” Alejandra nodded, popping the ‘p’. Then she sighed. “The USL decided to take away his title for bad behavior. They knocked points off his score. He doesn’t even know when, but he’ll start the next event with a penalty. They’ll probably make him skip an event or two.”
“Well… not terrible. He’s still competing.”
“Yes, but it impacts his rankings a lot. And now, he has a meeting with Jamie.”
Sofia frowned. “Is she going to drop him?”
“I hope not. It’d be dumb, considering they stuck with him through two years of not competing,” Alejandra said. “But... there’s something else you should know.”
Sofia narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“There are three reasons why Ilias punched Steven,” Alejandra began.
“Please don’t tell me I’m one of them.”
“Oh, I knew you were the smart ass of this duo.” Alejandra grinned. “Steven insulted Ilias, his sister, and he said he was going to...” She grimaced, looking like she might throw up. “...fuck you just out of spite. Because he knows Ilias has a crush on you.”
Sofia went still.
“Hijo puta. How dare he talk about me like that?” she snarled. “I don’t even know who the fuck he is.”
“Steven’s been obsessed with Ilias since forever. When Ilias retired for those two years, Steven won everything. Now that Ilias is back and stealing the spotlight, Steven’s losing, and the only way he knows how to deal with it is by baiting him.”
“And Ilias fell for it like an idiot.” Sofia shook her head. “But why are you telling me this?”
Flattering as it might be that Ilias Ríos El Idrissi was apparently into her, Sofia had zero intention of dating anyone.
Even less someone who lived on the road.
Not with her trust in ruins. Not after Thomas.
Even so, probably keeping Ilias at arm’s length was for the best. The way her weak body had reacted to two innocent kisses—even though the way he always cupped her cheek and threaded his fingers through her hair had replayed itself in her mind, unwillingly, several times—was a clear indicator that he needed to stay the fuck away from her. No need to fall back into men.
“Because I want you to stop thinking he’s always an asshole,” Alejandra said, picking at some pastry crumbs. “He’s not. He’s been through a lot.”
Sofia shrugged. “I don’t think he’s an asshole. I just want him far away from me.”
Now it was Alejandra’s turn to scrutinize her. She looked at her like she was reading her soul, and it was very annoying.
Then the smirk broke.
“And why’s that, hm? Could it be because you find him attractive enough to imagine what he’s like in bed?”
“Cono, Ale. Not everything is about sex.”
“But if it could help you relax and restore some faith in the male species,” Alejandra said, sipping her coffee with a glint in her eye, “I’d absolutely call him.
You know, I’ve heard some pretty interesting stories about little Ilias.
” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Which is not that little. If you know what I mean.”
Sofia shook her head, ready to reply but Alejandra’s phone lit up with a text message notification.
“Speak of the devil.” Alejandra grinned. “He says he needs to talk. I gotta go. Lunch with my parents before we leave?”
“I’ll be there.”
Alejandra leaned in for another affectionate goodbye hug and left, the wind catching the hem of her linen pants as she disappeared through the roads of Ericeira.
Sofia’s eyes drifted back to the ocean, surprisingly calm that morning, as if it knew that its work for the competition had been done.
The waves rolled in gently, the horizon bright and pale, the water that early-spring turquoise that looked as cold as it was.
A few seagulls wheeled overhead. The sunlight flickered off the sea’s surface like broken glass.
It was her day off.
So, she did the only thing a business owner should do at that moment: she reopened her laptop and returned to that stupid Excel sheet.
Anything to drown out Alejandra’s words.
Because she wasn’t ready. Not for Ilias. Not for sex.
Not for anything. She had been scarred too deeply. And she had no idea if she’d ever feel like a normal thirty-two-year-old again.