NOT OFFICIALLY

ASHLEY

Ohhh.

So, he's the distant first Cruz brother in the family. Caleb never really talked about him, but whenever his mum suggested he was going to visit his brother in Spain, he would refuse, saying that he likes how they barely know each other.

“Your name.”

“Huh?”

“What's the name, lost soul?” he asks again, droplets of water dripping from his black curly hair onto his face.

Lost soul? Did he just casually say that?

I raise my brows slightly. “Lost soul? Do I look like one?”

“Why else would you wander into someone's room and stare intensely at his bare body without his permission? I call that invasion, little one.”

“Wow. Now you just belittled me.”

He pushes parts of his wet hair away from his face, taking a step closer.

“You can definitely invade, little one,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “Just tell me the name first.”

I quickly avert my eyes from his chest, glancing at his face. “Ashley Krisoff,” I reply. “And though you have a deceptively charming look, I'm not a fan of it.”

A slow smirk suddenly tugs at the corner of his mouth. I try to leave the room, but his firm hand grips my wrist, holding me back.

“What's so deceptive about my looks, Krisoff?” He calls the name like we're acquaintances or even friends.

I stiffen for a moment before quickly pulling back from his hold. “It's either between your dark look, your stature or the weird unknown tattoos on your body.” I mean, he even has one medusa and an anchor inside an eye.

He pauses, his gaze dragging slowly from my head to my toe, then back again.

I feel the urge to hide my exposed thighs in the denim classic mini shorts I'm wearing but I resist.

“You don't seem scared or intimidated though. Isn't that right?”

I shake my head. “Not at all scared.”

He looks at me for a minute longer, then proceeds to the other side of the room to dry his hair with another towel.

“I'm a basketball player, not a rogue or mafia.”

I turn to face him. “Trust me, my thoughts are far from the mafia.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “But not far from rogue?”

I shrug. “So, are you famous?”

He glances at me again, his almost dry hair falling near his eyes again.

“Among the ladies? Yes I am.

I roll my eyes. What a show off!

“I mean as a basketball player,” I say. “Are you famous or a newbie?”

He doesn't respond, rather, he points towards the shelf at the far end of the room.

I nod. The two dozen trophies lined up perfectly as well as pictures of him with other famous basketball players on the wall already tells me what I need to know.

I frown. “If you're famous, why has Caleb never mentioned that to me or his friends?”

“We sorta have a… complex relationship for a long time now. Same father, different mother isn't exactly what he likes.”

I sigh audibly. Caleb. I should go downstairs and meet him, but what if I enter in on him kissing the Spanish girl? It's really not far from what he can do.

“You're here to spend the summer with Caleb, ain't that right?”

I clear my throat. “Yes,” I say hesitantly. I suddenly feel like it's a choice I'll regret soon.

Jeremías takes out a black tank top from his wardrobe and puts it on, the towel still wrapped around his waist.

“And where has he gone off to, leaving you here by yourself?"

“He has a guest in the living room.”

Jeremías looks up at me, the dark look reappearing on his face. “You mean Tessa? She's not a guest.”

I fully turn to him, my gaze focused. “Umm… do you know her?”

He picks up his basketball from his side, settling down by the edge of the bed and spinning the ball on his left index finger.

“She's practically family. Caleb's long term girlfriend,” he says, a mischievous glint noticeable in his eyes. But I'm far more interested in knowing about the girl than considering his expression.

“Long term girlfriend? I repeat, trying to sound normal about it. “Why is she here though?”

“She's here to see him after a long time. They are still together after all.”

I narrow my eyes at him, crossing my arms. “Don't you think you know a little too much about them, considering you barely relate with Caleb?”

He stops the spinning ball, smirking. “Why? Are you scared she'll ruin your holiday plans?”

“That shouldn't be your problem,” I quickly say.

I turn towards the door, my hand pausing on the door handle when Jeremías voice stops me in my steps. “Hold on.”

He stands up and slowly approaches me, still clutching the basketball. He leans in a little closer than normal.

“You really don't remember me, do you, Krisoff?”

I hold my breath. His skin is rubbing against mine slightly. The urge to book that flight to Australia suddenly feels less like a dramatic whim and more like a survival strategy.

“Except that you're Caleb's brother, I don't know anything about you,” I manage.

His gaze remains on me for a while, unmoving. I feel myself melting under his piercing gaze but I don't move from my position.

Just then, Caleb enters the room. He pauses by the door, his eyes darting between Jeremías and me—noticing our proximity. It makes my heart drop.

I quickly pull away from Jeremías’ grasp, my eyes fixed on Caleb's face etched with a suspicious expression.

“Ash,” he calls, his eyes dropping to the towel on his brother’s body. “What are you doing here with him?”

“I was looking for a room and mistakenly entered his own.”

Jeremías smiles faintly. “I didn't mind her coming here to wait for you. She's interesting. Nice to see you again, brother.”

I shut my eyes for a second, biting my lower lip. He didn't mind? He's saying it like I wanted to come in intentionally.

With a slight nod, Caleb grabs my hand and leaves the room.

“I'm having my birthday party tonight, brother. You and Krisoff are invited.” Jeremías says behind us before shutting his door.

Caleb leads me downstairs, his grip on my hand loose. As we reach the living room, he finally let go.

I glance around the room, but the girl is nowhere to be seen. She’s gone. I sigh, sitting on the sofa.

“That girl was your girlfriend, Tessa, right?” I suddenly ask, unable to wait.

He looks at me, his expression surprised. “Who told you? Jeremías told you that?”

“Yes. But I'm hurt that I didn't know anything about you having a girlfriend for years, Caleb. Even if she was your ex, you could have still told me about her. I'm your best friend.

He sits beside me, facing me fully. “No,” he says, his voice smooth. ”We actually never broke up. Not officially. We're still together… I think.”