Chapter 26
ILIAS
SAMRA – Saint Levant, Babylone
“So, what’s the real deal between you and Sofia?” Amira asked, slumped on the sofa of the rented house in Coolangatta, the town where Snapper Rocks belonged.
“What do you mean?”
Amira wasn’t one to dig into his personal life, which made the question feel even more serious.
“It’s supposed to be fake, right?” she lowered her voice.
Ilias nodded.
“Then why doesn’t it feel like it? Either you’re both Oscar-level actors—which I know isn’t true because I’ve seen you lie terribly to Mama and Papá—or you’re both falling in love and holding back like two idiots.”
Ilias scratched his stubble. “I don’t know, Amira.
It’s... complicated. I’m letting her set the pace.
She’s healing after a shitty breakup six months ago with a total asshole who made her lose faith in mankind.
I don’t want to be her rebound. I want her to choose me.
For me. And when she does, I need her all in. ”
Amira nodded thoughtfully. “She already seems like she cares a lot about you.”
He shrugged. “Last night, when she was drunk, she told me that being around me makes her happy. That she loved my smile, my hair, my eyes. Stuff sober Sofia would never say out loud.”
“Drunk people are the most honest. I think she’s crushing hard, but yeah... maybe scared.” She tilted her head. “So your game plan is just... let her take the lead?”
Another nod.
Amira stared at him, clearly impressed. “Wow. You really have changed. From the idiot who used to change girlfriends like he changed underwear…”
Ilias flipped her off. Her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief.
Then she sobered. “I’m glad you took that time off, for your mental health and for Azul.
I don’t think I ever actually thanked you for choosing Papá’s legacy over your career.
I know you say you’ve already accomplished a lot, but I see you in the water.
You still want it. You can win. Yesterday was proof.
You devoured those waves. I’m so proud to be your sister. ”
“It wasn’t easy.”
“But you made it.”
He pulled her into a hug, his throat tightening. He couldn’t show just how much her words meant. He’d crumpled enough over the years.
Then his phone buzzed: Ghita.
“Speaking of Azul,” Amira said, clocking the name.
Ghita’s bright smile filled the screen, her hazel eyes shining. “What’s my favorite champion doing?”
“Why do you always call him and not me?” Amira cut in.
“Because you didn’t win,” Ghita said with a smirk. “I texted Alejandra first, too. You want my calls? Win your damn heats.”
“You’re my cousin.”
“And you lost.”
Their banter was endless. Always snapping like sisters, always loving each other fiercely.
“Why’d you call?” Ilias asked, though deep down, he had a guess, and he wasn’t wrong to dread it.
“To congratulate you, obviously!” she said, like he’d just insulted her. “And also to say you could’ve maybe avoided sticking your tongue down Sofia’s throat on a livestreamed YouTube broadcast.”
Ilias barked a laugh. “What can I say? She knows how to turn me on.”
“Also,” Ghita continued, “I got an email from the lawyer. The two-year period is almost up, and he wants to know what we want to do.”
“Why does he need an answer now?”
Ghita shrugged. “It’s all in the corporate email. You can check it later and reply.”
He nodded. As they chatted, the front door opened and Sofia and Alejandra stepped in. Cheeks flushed, skin glistening with sweat, both in tight running gear. Ilias had to physically restrain his eyes from locking onto Sofia’s shorts... and her top... and her chest.
“How was the run?” Amira asked casually.
“Good,” they both said in sync.
His gaze slid back to Sofia. His eyes fixated on a single droplet of sweat sliding down her collarbone.
Get a grip.
“Is Sofia there? Let me talk to her!” Ghita suddenly shouted in Darjia.
Sofia frowned, catching her name in the foreign language.
“My cousin Ghita wants to meet you,” Ilias said, standing and walking over to her with the phone.
“Hello Ghita, nice to meet you,” Sofia said in nearly perfect French, only botching a few words—which somehow made it even sexier. Could he be more of an idiot for her? Absolutely not.
“Hello, Sofia! When are you coming to visit us in Morocco? At Azul?” Then to Ilias: “Have you told her about my plan?” Then back to Sofia: “What do you think?”
He translated some of it, though Sofia managed to understand most of it despite Ghita speaking a mile a minute.
Alejandra waved in the background, mouth full of an apple, before flopping onto the couch next to Amira.
“When Ilias decides to invite me, I’d love to visit,” Sofia said sweetly. “I’ve never been to Morocco.”
“You’ve never been?” he asked, right as Ghita and Amira echoed him in stereo.
“Nope.”
“You have to come. We should plan a trip after the season ends,” Ilias said, grinning.
“I’d love that.”
“And what do you think about the retreat idea?” Ghita asked.
“I think it’s amazing. I’d love to help promote it, if you want that,” Sofia replied genuinely. “And even help build it, if that’s something you’re planning seriously.”
Her eyes flicked to Ilias.
“We’re still figuring it out,” he said. “But it’s a very... palpable option.”
Ghita squealed on screen. “Please, Sofia, blow him, seduce him, do whatever it takes to convince him to turn Azul into a retreat center.”
Ilias closed his eyes, barely holding back a laugh. When he opened them, Alejandra and Amira were full-on wheezing, and Sofia’s face was flaming red as she babbled something like, “Yeah, I’ll do my best.”
“Oh, Ghita,” Ilias added, holding back a laugh, “remember, Sofia’s kind of a puritan. You need to dial it back.”
“I’m not a puritan,” Sofia blurted, mortified.
“Sorry, Sofi. But seriously, convince him.”
“I’m sure she will,” Ilias said smoothly, since Sofia’s brain had clearly short-circuited.
They said their goodbyes, and as the call ended, Alejandra and Amira were still doubled over with laughter. Sofia dropped into a chair, mortified, shooting Ilias an apologetic look.
He walked over, voice low as he leaned in.
“You could convince me to do anything, habiba. All it takes is looking at me with those eyes. They’re lethal.”
She bit her lip and blushed so deep he thought her freckles might combust. Then she stood up quickly.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she announced, fleeing.
As she disappeared down the hall, Alejandra turned to him, grinning like the cat that ate the canary.
“She’s going to crumble soon, you know that?”
“I fucking hope so.”