LOGINThe first rays of California sun filtered through the slats of the shutters, casting dancing patterns on the white walls of Sofia's room. She'd slept restlessly, her night interrupted by feverish dreams where images from the night before blended into an indistinct chaos: the heat of an unknown mouth, a horrified look, endless tears. When she opened her eyes, reality hit her like a cold wave shame, regret, that hollow feeling in her stomach that refused to fade.She lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling fan spinning lazily, as if the outside world didn't exist yet. But the smell of coffee was already rising from the kitchen, accompanied by the clatter of utensils and the muffled voices of the men downstairs. She had no choice: she had to face the day, act as if nothing had changed, even if everything inside her screamed otherwise.She got up slowly, her limbs heavy as lead. A glance in the bathroom mirror returned an image she barely recognized: red-rimmed eyes from last night
His words pierced her like blades. She nodded, tears threatening to fall again, but she swallowed them down, forcing a whisper: "Understood. I... I won't say anything."He pulled his hand away, as if the contact burned him too, and they crossed the threshold of the house together. The inside was quiet, almost too quiet, with that familiar smell of polished wood and sea salt that permeated the walls. Sofia felt her pulse quicken when she heard footsteps in the living room. Javier appeared, a glass of water in hand, in his pajamas, his eyes half-closed with sleep. He looked at them in turn, one eyebrow raised as he saw Pedro behind her."Ah, you're coming home together?" he asked, his voice tinged with amused surprise, but with that edge of paternal vigilance he always had. He set his glass down on the coffee table, crossing his arms. "What happened?"Pedro forced a smile, scratching the back of his neck in a gesture that betrayed his discomfort. "Turns out we were at the same party. I
The taxi stopped in front of the house with a discreet screech of tires on the gravel, breaking the oppressive silence inside. Sofia felt her stomach knot even tighter, as if the familiar walls of the villa with their blue shutters and purple bougainvillea climbing up the facade were already judging her. The night was deep, a blanket of indifferent stars above them, and the salty ocean breeze carried a cool wind that made her shiver despite the residual heat from the party.She got out first, her sandals clicking on the ground, carefully avoiding looking at Pedro as he paid the driver. Her body felt foreign to her lips still sensitive, her heart beating at an erratic rhythm, as if each pulse was a reproach. Why had she done this? Shame gnawed at her, a slow venom seeping into every thought, making her doubt everything: her feelings, her impulsive audacity, that forbidden thirst that had driven her into that room. She felt small, ridiculous, a kid who'd played with fire and burned hers
"Sofia, stop... stop crying," he murmured, his voice trembling, panicked. He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the gray strands as if to punish himself. "Fuck, what just happened? How did you get here? Was it... was it you? All this time?"She nodded, her shoulders shaken by sobs. "Yes... I... I saw Brooke leave, and I... I don't know, Pedro. I'm sorry. I need to tell you something. I... I have feelings for you. Since last summer. I can't help it. Every time I see you, I..."The words came out in a jumbled flood, broken by tears. She felt laid bare, more vulnerable than ever confessing this, here, in a room that still reeked of unfinished desire, was like diving into the unknown without a net. But it was true: those butterflies in her stomach when he smiled, those dreams where he touched her, those stolen glances that made her shiver. It was more than a teenage crush; it was a fire consuming her, taboo and irresistible.Pedro stepped back, as if the words had physically struc
The room suddenly felt too small, the air too thick, laden with a tension that suffocated everything. Pedro blinked several times, as if the reality before him was an illusion born of alcohol and fatigue. His body, still taut with residual arousal, stiffened in a completely different way a cold panic that shot through him like an electric current. He sat up abruptly, fumbling to pull his pants back up over his hips, his fingers trembling at the zipper. The rumpled fabric made a dry sound in the silence, and he adjusted his open shirt with a hasty gesture, covering his bare chest as if that could erase what had just happened. His eyes, now wide open, fixed on Sofia with a mixture of horror and disbelief, as if he was seeing her for the first time not as the little girl he'd known, but as an intruder in a stolen moment."Sofia?" he repeated, his voice hoarse, cracked by confusion. He shook his head, running a hand over his sweat-damp face. "What are you doing here? Why did you... why di
The silence that followed Brooke's departure was oppressive, as if the room itself was holding its breath. Sofia, crouched in the shadows of the anteroom, felt her heart hammering against her ribs, a frantic rhythm pounding in her temples. The air was thick with a musky scent, a mix of sweat, alcohol, and that heady perfume Brooke wore a hint of artificial vanilla that made her nauseous. She heard the young woman's footsteps fading down the hallway, her muffled voice on the phone, an annoyed murmur: "Dad, what is it? Not now..." Then nothing. Just the distant hum of the music downstairs, and Pedro's steady breathing in the adjacent room.Sofia hesitated, her hands trembling against the cool wall. What was coming over her? Was it the alcohol still flowing through her veins, that sweet cocktail that had softened the edges of the world, making everything bolder, more urgent? Or was it that desire that had been building for months, that forbidden crush eating away at her from the inside l







