Spanish Nicknames For Girlfriend Novels & Stories

I grimaced, holding up my ring finger where the wedding band sparkled brilliantly. “Just letting you know,” he gave me a wave. I threw him a look before turning around to head to my room. “We met your friend from Spain, by the way…” he said, just as I was about to walk out. I turned around, and he raised a brow at me. “Her name is Catalina.” “I hope you don’t go back to the old Ash. I kind of like this one better.”

He said smugly, I have the urge to roll my eyes again. "Ohh here is a special question for me." The girl who I think her name is Jen said to us. "Go on." Nate insisted while crossing his arms on his chest. "What are the nicknames for your partner?" She asked and held the mic in front of us. "Well, mine is beautiful because she's beautiful, not going to lie." Nate said making grunted in annoyance. "And you Sophia?" She asked holding the mic toward me, I looked at the camera and gave a fake smirk.

I shook my head and said, “Mariel’s too girly.” He raised his eyebrows. “Aida then,” he suggested. “Don’t you think it’s too classy? I have a classmate -” I bit my lower lip and blinked when Red glared at me. “Sophia? I like Sophia,” Liam cocked his head to look at them like he was participating in our nickname guessing game. “Yeah, right! Your ex-girlfriend’s name is Sofia, so will she be Sofia the second?” Ariana chuckled, rolling her eyes but looking like she was enjoying the interview.

Audriana could hear Sofia say to someone in the background. "¿A quién llamas molesta?" She heard a deep playful voice say to her friend, which means 'who are you calling annoying?'. Yes, she did understand Spanish, Sofia is Spanish her name alone spells it out. She taught Audriana how to speak Spanish when their friendship was already a year, she said she had to pass on her knowledge. Weird girl, says something about letting her legacy leave on. Audriana shakes her head at the memory. "Miguel? I don't know any cousin you have that is name Miguel" she tells her friend as she was almost done with her deserts.

"Yes, yes, she is my girlfriend. Her name is Silvia. Please take care of her in the future." "Yo, my man, since when do you have a girlfriend? She's so beautiful." Lennox's friends didn't believe this, but thinking about the matter carefully, this kid's father was rich after all. It was not surprising that he managed to find such a beautiful woman to be his girlfriend.

— And came with his girlfriend. —Girlfriend? - Nilton asks, approaching, surprised. — Are you sure, Lôlô? —Absolute. - Says Loreta, proud. — Her name is Helena, just like the protagonist of the novel. —Is that right? He said he’s his girlfriend? - Nilton asks standing next to his wife and facing the ladder. —He did not deny. - Loreta answers. — Helena... - Speaks Nilton, thoughtful. — Who would say?

He takes her hand and pulls her. "Come on, my girlfriend." "Doesn't that mean my Moon?" Leía looks at Alpha Aren who has narrowed his eyes upon hearing his brother and Beta Enril call his half 'my girlfriend'. Gil quickly steps forward to avoid any confusion. "No Leía, Enril can also say that to you, and no one will know what he says to you. It is something common in humans," Gil explains kindly. "You can also say that when you want to say something affectionate to him, 'my boyfriend'."

Then she gets a dreamy expression on her face and murmurs, “He prefers ‘girlfriend,’ when we’re in his office or somewhere no one can eavesdrop on us. I use the term la copine. It’s French.” “His mother was French,” I muse. “Yes. And since his father is Italian, we interchangeably say la fidanzata.” I’m liking this more and more. “And in his native tongue?” I eagerly query. “La basitonia. The beautiful girl.” Okay, I plain melt. I sip some more to try to cover the sudden quivering of my lips. I avert my misty eyes. Nick has had all of these secretive monikers for me. And he has an assistant who’s been privy to his feelings from the get-go, and who covertly and loyally plays along, so that he

I confessed, raising my shoulders slightly and momentarily to express indifference. He chuckled again. Looking at me inquiringly. “Nobody calls you that?” I shook my head sideways, turning it left and right along the transverse plane repeatedly in slow succession as I wore a cheeky grin. “What name does your husband call you? Señorita? Mi amor? Mon trésor? Belle? Meu bem? Mi vida? Gioia?” As he was mentioning all these names, he was demonstrating with his hands, which made it more romantic, and I was just blushing, wishing it was true, but Peters would never use an endearing name on me.

The heavy weight of everything awaiting me for the day felt unbearable at the moment, but I had to keep moving forward because I had to find my way, even if it meant weaving through this tangled web I found myself in. Mi chica— the word came back to me. I tried searching for the meaning on the internet; if that was the new name Wolfe would be calling me, I needed to at least know the meaning. And then— I found it. It was a Spanish word that meant 'my girl.’