Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110351 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110351 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Monday feels a long way away, but for now, I’m okay with waiting.
Chapter Thirteen
I promised myself a lazy weekend, and boy have I embodied that.
Work has been so busy lately, and I feel like I’ve barely had time to breathe recently, let alone process everything that’s been happening with Santi.
Our date on Friday had been incredible, but it had left me in that bittersweet haze between excitement and caution. I tell myself that it’s a good thing that I’m so busy since it means I haven’t been able to overthink.
Santi and I have been texting since our date - just short, casual exchanges for now, nothing too full-on - but it feels like there’s something simmering beneath the surface.
I don’t want to over analyse things, though.
After all, if you do what you’ve always done, then you get the same result, right?
So, I want to let things unfold naturally - even if my brain seems intent on creating scenarios worthy of a romantic drama.
After a slow breakfast, I decide to head to the beach with a book. The thought of the sea breeze and soft sand beneath my feet feels like the perfect way to recharge, and this is a luxury I don’t have back in Manchester.
I’m trying to live my life a little more presently and focus on being in the moment, and as I walk through the winding Spanish streets, I let myself take in the beauty of my surroundings - the vibrant orange trees, the chatter of locals enjoying their morning coffee and the gentle hum of life in the city.
By mid-afternoon, I’m sprawled out on a towel and practically glowing from how much sun cream I’m wearing. My fair hair sits in a loose, messy bun on top of my head, and my book - a highly recommended summer romance novel - sits forgotten beside me as I stare out at the waves, my large sunglasses hiding most of my expression from any passers by.
I just can’t seem to get my mind to stop from drifting.
No matter how hard I try to live in the moment and not think about him… I can’t help it.
I wonder about Santi. What he’s doing, what he’s up to, who he’s with, where he’s going.
He’d mentioned that he had training over the weekend, but I have no idea what his schedule actually looks like, or what training even involves. Honestly, as far as I know, it could be anything.
As if on cue, my phone buzzes, and I smile at the sight of his name on my phone screen.
How’s your lazy Sunday going?
Sitting up slightly to type a reply, I bite down on my bottom lip.
My giddiness is honestly ridiculous. After all, I shouldn’t be this happy to hear from him. Not so soon.
Sunny, sandy, and quiet. How about you? I type back.
The reply comes almost instantly.
Noisy, sweaty, and full of guys yelling at each other. All in a day’s work.
Ew. Honestly, that sounds like my idea of hell. I don’t know how he does it, but I’m thankful I’ll never have to know.
Still, I laugh a little to myself, imagining him in the thick of the chaos.
Sounds delightful, I say. I’m almost jealous, but I got a pretty good spot on the beach.
Before I can second-guess myself, I take a quick photo of my view of the sea and send it to him with my message. If my bare legs just so happen to be in the shot, then that’s purely a coincidence that I absolutely did not intend, plan, or stage.
One of the things that I like so much about Santi is the way he doesn’t play games, and my phone buzzes as his reply comes promptly once again.
I know where I’d rather be.
That stops me in my tracks, my fingers hovering over the screen.
Should it be possible to feel so flustered just through texting?
Careful, Santi. People might think you’re a secret romantic.
Just as I move to put my phone down, it buzzes again.
They wouldn’t be wrong. ;)
I shake my head as I finally do put my phone down, my heart doing that annoying little flip that it seems to have started doing whenever I think about him.
∞∞∞
By the time that Monday evening rolls around, I can’t deny how much I’m looking forward to seeing Santi again. Our text conversations have been an endless thread of playful banter (plus some surprisingly sweet exchanges), but nothing compares to the thought of being with him in person.
The tapas bar he suggested is nestled in a small but lively square, the kind of place where locals gather to eat, laugh and drink together late on into the evening. The lifestyle is much more laid back than it is at home, where places are usually much quieter during the week since people hurry off home after working all day.