Chapter 24

Aurora

The drive back to my apartment felt like we were floating in a bubble that the world couldn’t pop.

Alexia drove with one hand on the wheel and the other tightly interlaced with mine, her thumb tracing circles over my skin.

Luna was fast asleep in the back, her soft snores the only sound other than the quiet hum of the engine. Everything felt different. The air was lighter. The city lights of Barcelona didn’t feel like watching eyes anymore-they felt like a celebration.

“You’re sure about the team?” I whispered as we pulled onto my street.

Alexia didn’t even hesitate. “I’ve never been sure of anything else in my life, Ora.”

When we reached my door, my heart was still doing that light, fluttery dance. I fumbled with my keys, laughing softly when Alexia leaned in to nip at my earlobe. “Patience, Capitana,” I teased, finally getting the door unlocked.

I pushed the door open, but I barely made it two steps into the dark foyer before Alexia had me pressed against the wall. The door clicked shut behind us, and she was there, her hands on my waist, her lips finding mine in a kiss that was hungry and desperate and full of the “I love you” we had finally set free.

I melted into her, my hands tangling in her hair, completely lost in her-until I heard a very distinct, very dry throat-clearing sound from the living room.

“Well. That’s certainly one way to say ‘Welcome home, Elena.'”

I froze. My heart didn’t just stop; it plummeted. I pulled away from Alexia so fast I nearly tripped over Luna, who was already trotting toward the sofa with her tail wagging.

The lamp in the corner clicked on.

Sitting on my sofa, looking like she had just stepped off a flight from Honolulu-which she clearly had-was my sister. Elena de Luca was leaning back, an amused, sharp glint in her eyes that made her look exactly like the Big Wave surfer she was: fearless and ready to drop into a chaotic situation.

“Elena?” I gasped, my voice an octave higher than usual. “What-how-you’re in Hawaii!”

“I was in Hawaii,” Elena corrected, her dry wit cutting through the thick tension of the room.

She stood up, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked tired, but she radiated that effortless, grounding calm that had always made her the anchor of our family. “I decided Lessi needed to see her favorite aunt, and I missed the Mediterranean. I cracked your door code in three tries, by the way. You really need to pick something more creative than our mother’s birthday.”

I stood there, paralyzed, while Alexia stood beside me, looking uncharacteristically flustered. She was smoothing her hoodie, her ‘Captain’ mask trying to slide back into place, but failing miserably.

“Elena,” I managed to find my voice, stepping forward to hug her. She smelled like salt and home. “This is… Alexia.”

Elena pulled back, her gaze shifting to Alexia. I saw her analytical mind working. She knew Alexia Putellas, of course-she followed my career-but more importantly, I had spent the last few weeks calling Elena on O’ahu to complain about how much the “arrogant Captain” was making my life miserable.

Elena looked at Alexia, then back at my swollen lips, and then a slow, wicked grin spread across her face.

“The Alexia?” Elena asked, her eyes dancing. “The one you said was a ‘rigid, tactical robot’ who had no soul?”

“Elena!” I hissed, turning bright red.

Alexia cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her neck. “A robot? Really, Aurora?”

Elena laughed-that deep, pragmatic sound that always made me feel like a little kid again. She stepped toward Alexia and held out a hand, her grip likely as strong as the surfboard she carved into the North Shore waves with.

“I’m Elena. The sister who has to hear all the drama,” she said, her grin widening. “I have to say, for a robot, you’re a pretty good kisser. I was worried I’d have to break your nose for upsetting my little sister, but seeing as you’re currently looking at her like she’s the only person in the world… I think I’ll hold off. For now.”

“Nice to meet you, Elena,” Alexia said, finally finding her voice, though she looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her.

“Lessi is asleep in the guest room,” Elena added, nodding toward the hall. “But don’t worry, she didn’t hear a thing. She’s dead to the world.”

She looked back at me, her protective instincts still visible in the way she scanned my face, but the warmth was there, too. “So. I guess everything you told me about over the phone has changed?”

I looked at Alexia, who took my hand right in front of my sister.

“Everything changed,” I said.

Elena smirked. “Clearly. Well, sit down. I’ve been on a plane for twenty hours, and you two have a lot of explaining to do.”

Elena

I leaned back against the cushions of Aurora’s sofa, crossing my ankles and trying to suppress the grin that was threatening to take over my face. I’d spent twenty hours on various planes dreaming of a shower and a bed, but this? This was better than a double-shot espresso.

Aurora was standing in the middle of the rug, her hands flying around as she spoke, looking like she was trying to explain the laws of physics while mid-panic attack. She was rambling about “agreements,” “tactical hiding,” and “team dynamics,” but her face was the color of a ripe Italian tomato.

“And then Jenni came back, and I thought-well, I didn’t think, I just felt-and then the beach happened, and we just…” Aurora trailed off, looking at the floor as if it might offer her an escape route.

I ignored my sister for a second. My focus was entirely on the blonde woman standing next to her. Alexia Putellas.

I knew the name. I knew the titles. I’d seen her on the news back on the North Shore, looking like a stone statue of a goddess.

But the woman in my sister’s living room didn’t look like a monument. She looked… wrecked. In the best way possible. Her hair was a mess from Aurora’s fingers, her lips were swollen, and she was looking at my sister with a terrifying amount of tenderness.

I’m a surfer. I spend my life reading the ocean, looking for the telltale signs of a shift in the current. And right now, the current in this room was pulling me under.

“Aurora, stop,” I said, my voice calm but firm. I waited until she looked up. “You’re making my head spin more than the jet lag.”

I shifted my gaze back to Alexia. I wanted to see if she’d flinch under the ‘Big Sister’ interrogation. She didn’t. She straightened her shoulders, meeting my eyes with a steady, grounding gaze that I actually found myself respecting.

“So,” I asked, tilting my head. “I’m a pragmatist. I don’t care about tactical hiding or what the press thinks. I just want to know one thing before I decide whether I like you or if I have to start planning your ‘accidental’ disappearance in the Mediterranean.”

Alexia swallowed, but she didn’t look away. “Ask.”

“Are you two together?” I asked. “Are you her girlfriend, or is this just some late-night drama that ends when the sun comes up?”

The silence that followed was heavy. I saw Aurora bite her lip, looking sideways at Alexia. She looked scared.

But Alexia didn’t hesitate. She didn’t check for cameras, and she didn’t calculate the PR risk. She reached out, sliding her fingers firmly into Aurora’s hand, anchoring her.

“Yes,” Alexia said, her voice clear and resonant. “We are together. I love her, Elena. I’m not planning on letting her go.”

I felt a surge of warmth in my chest. My little sister-the shy one, the one who lived in her own head-had found someone who wasn’t afraid to stand in the light with her.

I stood up, the dry wit I usually used as a shield softening into something genuine. I walked over to them, seeing Alexia tense up slightly, expecting a lecture or a threat.

Instead, I stepped into her space and pulled her into a hug.

“Good,” I whispered into her ear, patting her back. “Because if you had said ‘it’s complicated,’ I would have had to kick you out, and it’s far too late for that.”

I pulled back, keeping my hands on Alexia’s shoulders, giving her a quick, approving nod. Then I looked at Aurora, whose jaw was practically on the floor.

“She’s a keeper, Ora,” I teased, my quick wit returning. “Even if she is a tactical robot. Now, someone make me some coffee. I have a four-year-old who wakes up at dawn, and I intend to tell her all about her new ‘Auntie Ale’ the second she opens her eyes.”

Alexia’s eyes widened at the mention of a child, but for the first time since we walked in, she actually laughed. A real, soulful sound.

Yeah. We were going to be just fine.