Chapter Text

It was one of those summer mornings when the tide whispered rather than roared, and the breeze carried the briny scent of salt and seaweed. Amelia, dressed in a camisole and cotton shorts with her sunglasses settled on her head, was chilling on one of the loungers by the inn. Her knees folded, propping up the thick novel resting against her thighs, eyes deep in a medieval fantasy world she could practically see unfolding behind her lids.

She didn’t notice Pablo until his shadow fell over the page from the side.

“Well, look who’s here,” he said, a little out of breath, like he’d jogged from somewhere. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Taking a day off?”

She glanced up—and there he was. In shorts, a sheen of sweat glinting on his shoulders and chest with no shirt to cover it. Drops clung to his hairline, trailing down his temples.

It was the first time she’d seen him shirtless. Not that it mattered. Nor had she been waiting for it to happen. Sure, the way his muscles flexed under his shirt had always been—objectively—a pleasant bonus whenever she stopped by the smithy.

But this was like flying too close to the sun.

The golden ray blazed behind him, casting a halo that traced the outline of every defined curve—his broad shoulders, the strong lines of his arms, the taper of his waist where one hand casually rested...

Somewhere inside her chest, her heart gave a traitorous little stutter.

Still, she played it cool.

“Just taking a small break,” she said in the most casual tone she could muster, slipping a bookmark between the pages before snapping the book shut.

As she looked back up at him, she slid her sunglasses down from where they’d been perched on—partly to block the glare, mostly to hide the way her eyes kept wandering. “I’ve been up since four. Got a lot of work done this morning. Thought I’d reward myself a little.”

He settled onto the lounger beside her, turning sideways so he could face her fully. Lifting his right arm—the one inked with that strikingly captivating Calavera—he swiped a streak of sweat from his left eyelid with his thumb.

And it somehow—uncannily—looked like a teasing little wink.

Behind the subtle flex of his biceps, his lips parted in a soft smile—his right eye glinting with that usual mischievous spark.

It’s alright. It simply means I’m a straight woman, Amelia thought as her heart skipped another beat, eyes barely blinking behind her sunglasses.

“What are you reading?” he asked, fingers loosely intertwined, elbows propped on his knees as he leaned in with curious ease.

She lifted the book, and the angle happened to catch the sun, sending a sharp glint off the gilded title—right into his eyes. He squinted against the glare as he tried to read the title.

“The Aria of Frost and Flames...” He drawled. “Oh yeah, I know this one. Pretty sure it was playing on the radio when I tried to set up a bonfire last winter. Very fitting.”

He let out a low chuckle as Amelia rolled her eyes, giving him a sarcastic laugh.

She huffed, then said with a shift in tone. “It’s a medieval fantasy novel,” her voice was softer, slightly threaded with excitement. “Kings and lords and dragons and wars. Lots of drama and chaos.”

Pablo’s brow lifted, a playful spark lighting his eye. “Is there a legendary blacksmith, too?”

Amusement flickered within her before she answered, “Not legendary, but yes, there is a blacksmith. Mysterious and seems to be an important character later on. But I’m barely halfway through the first book, so I can’t say for sure.”

He smiled, easing back with his hands propped behind him on the bench. “Rafael gifted me a book about a legendary blacksmith,” he said. “It was great. Also medieval fantasy, might be interesting for you, too. I still have more books I wanna read, but it’s just hard to find the time.”

She nodded in agreement. “Same here. I try to read as often as I can—especially in this weather, it’s nice to read by the beach,” the blue sky reflected off her sunglasses. “I used to talk medieval fantasy with friends. It made it easier to stick with reading, I think. Alice reads a lot too, but our tastes in books are... very different, to say the least.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, well aware of Alice’s love for books about inexplicable phenomena or extraterrestrial lives.

A playful spark lit behind his eyes as he tilted his head. “Then maybe we should do that. Read the same books, meet up, discuss... keep each other motivated.”

One eyebrow lifted as she considered the suggestion for a beat. “So like a book club? Who else is in?”

“Just you and me,” he said with a wink. Then, as his grin faded, something more sincere settled in his voice. “The more the merrier, but then the harder it gets to align interests and schedules, don’t you think?”

She paused to mull it over. He had a point—keeping it just the two of them would make things simpler. She was still far from finishing the first book, and the rest of the series loomed ahead like a mountain she wasn’t quite ready to climb all on her own. But maybe having someone to share it with would make it less intimidating. Fun, even.

And maybe as time passed, they’d find other people who would also be interested.

“It’s actually a good idea,” she finally said. “But I’m not ready to start a new book. At least, not until I finish this one. It’s seven hundred pages and it’s only the first of the series...” she lifted the book again, showing him where the bookmark was nestled.

“No problem,” he promised. “I’ll ask Millie, she’s been wanting to expand the fantasy section anyway. I’ll catch up on that one as soon as I can, and once we’re both done, we meet and talk medieval fantasy. Deal?”

She smiled, glad to find someone who might actually share her interest. “Deal.”

Pablo tilted forward again, forearms back resting on his knees as a bright smile bloomed on his face. “Then let’s stay in touch,” he said. “You got your phone with you? Let me give you my number.”

Amelia nodded, then reached into her pocket to take her phone. She created a new contact and handed it to him. His fingers danced over the screen with casual confidence, quickly typing something in.

When he passed it back to her, her eyes widened in shock.

Her lips parted, caught somewhere between disbelief and a scoff. When she looked up, he was already watching her reaction—his eyes sparkling with mischief, his lips tilting into a sly smirk—smug as always.

With a tap on his knees, he stood up and began stretching his limbs. “Well, it’s settled then. I’ll keep you updated as soon as I get my hands on the first book. Gotta finish this jog before I cool down too much. Adiós, Amelia.”

And just like that, he disappeared into the winding trail toward the Garden Lane—leaving her alone, caught in yet another whirl of bafflement.

Her eyes flicked back to her phone, still bearing the aftermath of his mischief. The emojis couldn’t be unsent—the heart, on the other hand...

With a tired sigh, she opened the contact detail and tapped the edit button. Just as her thumb hovered over his name to erase the heart, it faltered for a second, held back by some inexplicable hesitation.

After a moment, she brushed it off with a scoff, shook her head, and deleted the heart.