Chapter 19
SOFIA
Shimbalaiê – María Gadú
They had spent all day hunting for whale songs, and Sofia hadn’t felt this excited about her research in quite some time.
She didn’t care if it wasn’t groundbreaking, if others had done it before, but if she could send those songs to her father and soothe him even a little, then every second out there was worth it.
“How’s it going with Ilias?” Elvira asked, waggling her eyebrows with a wicked grin.
Sofia checked her wristwatch.
“Wow. We’ve been out for six hours and you just asked. Are you feeling alright?”
“Ah, ah, ah. Very funny, Sofia.” Elvira rolled her eyes, earning a middle finger. “For the record, whales will always win over a hot surfer.”
“Because they have bigger dicks?” Sofia choked on her own idiotic joke, snorting, while Elvira’s eyes widened in mock shock.
Spending too much time with Alejandra had definitely affected her brain functioning. A second later, Elvira threw her head back and let out a laugh so loud and undignified it made Jo?o glance their way from the driver’s seat.
“Yes,” Elvira cackled. “Because whales have bigger dicks than hot surfers.”
Jo?o raised an intrigued eyebrow but said nothing.
When they were together and talking about science, they usually slipped into Italian, their comfort zone, even though some English words always slipped in.
Sofia had met Elvira in Genova during the university years, they had bonded over salt water and stubbornness, and had been inseparable ever since.
Even Elvira, master of reading people, hadn’t seen the betrayal coming from Thomas.
“So? How is it really going with Ilias?” Elvira pressed, her voice a little gentler now.
“Good,” Sofia admitted, surprising herself. “I feel good when I’m with him.”
No lie there. Ilias had grown on her in ways she didn’t want to examine too closely. He was cocky, sure, but also funny, oddly sweet, insightful. And hot. So hot it was stupid.
Their two-day stay in Biarritz had been a mix of surfing and laughing, of lingering touches and that constant hum of unspoken tension.
He had surfed with his shortboard and she had stuck to her longboard, enjoying the view: both of the ocean and of him, dripping wet, earning praise from strangers he didn’t even pretend to need.
“Is he still in town?” Elvira asked.
“He’s packing for Australia. Snapper Rocks.”
“Excited to surf again? Or sadder to leave you?”
“Probably both.” Sofia shrugged, though something fluttered in her chest.
“You two look good together,” Elvira added with a smirk. “Even the press can’t stop talking about you two.”
Sofia grimaced. They’d been paparazzied more than once back in Biarritz, caught off guard while laughing, talking, even when she’d just leaned into Ilias for warmth.
The cameras had flashed from across the promenade, through café windows, from behind sunglasses and phone screens.
It had felt like being stripped of something private, a tiny piece of her life taken without permission.
It was crazy to her that the paparazzi even cared about them, even though Ilias suspected TerraVive must have tipped them off.
They clearly had lowered their standards along the years.
The headlines that followed were worse. Half of them painted them as some fairytale couple, the surfer and the scientist, the ocean’s golden pair, while the rest tore her apart. The comments were a battlefield: hearts and sparkles from the romantics, and venom from the jealous.
Some women online had claimed Ilias deserved “someone better,” or that she was using him for fame. Apparently, she was expendable. Replaceable. Just a placeholder until someone shinier came along.
Well, the fuck she was. She wasn’t any fucking placeholder. She was a scientist, a woman who had claimed her narrative.
Even if this whole thing was fake, part of her wanted to snap back, to shove the truth in their faces and remind them that if she and Ilias were together, there was a reason. PR, sure, but they didn’t need to know that. Let them choke on their assumptions.
Back on land, storm clouds were gathering on the horizon as Jo?o drove them toward the port. When they arrived, Sofia spotted Ilias sitting outside the Salacia office. He was scrolling on his phone, curls falling messily over his forehead, stubble dark and scruffy.
When his hazel eyes met hers, he smiled, and madre mía, it was that kind of smile that made her stomach clench. Her traitorous heart skipped.
It’s fake, she reminded herself. It’s fake.
“Hello,” he greeted, standing and wrapping her in a firm hug, his lips brushing her hair. “How did it go?”
“Great. We recorded a lot. They’re migrating, so we got lucky.”
“Na minha opini?o, muito silêncio,” Jo?o grumbled before waving them off, his faithful cat Ignacio trailing him like always.
“He was annoyed we had to keep the engine off for six hours,” Elvira added, carrying gear inside.
“What did he do the whole time?” Ilias asked, still keeping her close, one arm around her waist, the other gently nudging her back so he could meet her gaze.
“Played Sudoku and cursed under his breath every time he screwed up.”
Ilias’ eyes darkened with amusement and something else.
“What?” she asked, wary of that mischievous glint.
“Just thinking I’d have a few ideas on how to pass six hours… trying to stay quiet.”
His voice dropped, low and gravelly, and the heat in his stare made her pulse flutter.
“Idiot,” she muttered, pushing him away to hide the color blooming on her cheeks.
When they’d stayed in Biarritz, sleeping in the same hotel suite—separate beds, of course—it had been fine. Until he came out of the shower in just a towel.
She had seen him shirtless before, but that… that was full exposure. Defined abs, that dangerous V-line, beads of water sliding down his chest. Her brain had practically short-circuited.
Thank God he snored like a tractor. It was the only thing that had kept her grounded.
“Jamie called,” he said, snapping her from her thoughts. “She wants to chat ASAP. Let’s head to the car and call her on the way.”
“How did she sound?”
He just shrugged.
Once they’d stored the gear in the office, waved Elvira off, and climbed into his rental car, Ilias called Jamie. She answered instantly, voice chirpy and artificial. Not good.
“How’s my favorite couple doing?”
Sofia frowned. Hard to tell if that tone was hiding good news or bad.
“We’re good,” Ilias said flatly. “Come on, Jamie. What’s going on?”
“So! I was talking with Ilias this morning, and Sofia, he told me he’s prepping for Snapper Rocks… and you’re not?”
“Correct,” Sofia replied. “It’s his competition. I have work to do.”
“But you both signed a contract,” Jamie sing-songed. “TerraVive has scheduled a shoot right after the event in Byron Bay. We need you two together.”
Sofia scowled. “When were you going to tell me?”
“I thought it was implied. This is a PR relationship, Sofia. You’re supposed to be together.”
“She has a life,” Ilias snapped. “She runs a business. She’s got her research to manage.”
Sofia shot him a glance, part surprised, part grateful.
“Yes,” Jamie replied coolly. “But this is the comeback event after the suspension. TerraVive wants you to be seen together. If you need help, hire someone for Salacia. You have the budget now.”
“In a week?” Sofia scoffed.
“There are tons of people who’d jump at the chance.”
“What’s the shoot about?” she asked, knowing she’d lost the battle.
“Beach. Swimsuits. Surfboards. Sexy couple energy.”
“Fine,” Sofia muttered, even though everything wasn’t fine.
“Do you have your passport ready?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect. Have fun at Snapper Rocks. See you at the shoot,” Jamie chirped before hanging up.
Sofia slumped in her seat; jaw tight. The car filled with a long, tense silence.
“I’m sorry,” Ilias said quietly.
“It’s not your fault,” she whispered, eyes fixed out the window toward the ocean. “I’ll post something on Instagram. I’m sure I’ll find someone. It just sucks that I have to tell Elvira she’ll be on her own.”
“Do you think she’ll mind?”
“No,” Sofia admitted. “But I do.”
His hand moved to her knee, fingers warm and steady as they curled gently around it, squeezing in silent reassurance.
“Think of it this way, somehow, it’s still for Salacia. If TerraVive keeps backing you after this PR stunt ends, that’s another 200k in your corner. And a hell of a lot more reach.”
Sofia bit her lower lip, her gaze dropping to where his hand rested. His fingers were strong, a silver ring catching the light, worn and engraved with symbols she didn’t recognize. Her skin tingled beneath his touch.
“I hate money,” she muttered. “I hate selling myself for it. It makes me feel… dirty.”
Ilias chuckled, low and soft. “Nah. That just means you’ve got values. And that’s why I like you so much.”
Something flipped in her chest. Or maybe her stomach. Or was that her vagina? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she was warm. Too warm.
“Ever been to Snapper Rocks?” he asked, smoothly shifting the subject.
“Nope. Is it nice?”
“It’s called the Formula 1 of surf breaks,” he said, that familiar spark lighting up his hazel eyes. “Hollow, fast-paced sections. Freight train waves. I love it, it’s pure adrenaline.”
He had that same look Alejandra got when talking about waves that looked like they could swallow you whole. The same look that made her question whether surfers actually had developed their prefrontal cortex.
“Gosh, you’re all insane.”
“You surf too.”
“Yeah, but baby waves,” she smirked. “Soft, glassy baby waves where I can relax and not get barrelled and drown.”
“There’s so much more to it, habiba.”
He squeezed her knee again, pairing it with a playful smile, and her breath caught, again.
Why did it feel so real when it was supposed to be fake? Why did his touch feel like it was rewiring her nervous system? And worse, why did she want more of it?