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)
Even though I try to keep the focus on lessons, more than a few of them sneak glances at me with barely concealed curiosity.
During my lunch break, I finally cave and check my phone.
The first message is from my mum. It’s a video attachment of Santi kissing me on the pitch.
Look at my beautiful girl! So proud of you both!
The second message is from Laura.
You and Ortiz are officially the hottest couple in sports. British press are eating this up. You’d better send me an invitation to come over when you move into his Spanish villa, aka mansion.
I snort, shaking my head. British press?
I swipe over to Safari and sure enough, a headline pops up from a UK news site.
British teacher steals the heart of Spain’s rugby superstar – Olivia Bennett and Santiago Ortiz’s championship kiss takes social media by storm!
Jesus Christ.
Biting my lip, I finally give into temptation and press play on the video.
There we are, standing in the middle of the pitch, completely oblivious to the cameras. Santi’s arm is wrapped around me, his lips moving softly against mine before he murmurs something and presses his forehead to mine.
It’s so strange to see it - to see us - in this way, in this light. Even I can’t deny it: there’s something ridiculously romantic about the way that this beautiful man looks at me.
It’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
I sigh, a dreamy smile creeping onto my lips as I watch the video again, my eyes trained on him the entire time.
God, he’s beautiful. Beautiful and funny, smart, charismatic, charming… Never mind successful. How on earth did I get so lucky?!
For once, I feel as though I really don’t mind being all over the internet. It’s not just because of the fact that it’s admittedly a cute video, or that we do look quite good together. I feel better in my own mind about everything, because deep down, I know that no matter how chaotic the world outside gets, Santi always knows how to make it disappear so that it’s just him and I.
And that is what makes it all worth it.
∞∞∞
“Pack a bag, princesa. We’re leaving.”
I freeze, my fingers still holding the door handle of Santi’s penthouse.
For a second, I wonder if I’ve heard him right, but the sparkle in his green eyes tells me he’s serious.
“Leaving?” I repeat, my voice still a little hoarse from the exhaustion of a long school day.
Santi stands in front of his kitchen island, casual and unbothered as he leans back against the marble worktop. The sun is beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting warm hues of orange and pink through the floor-to-ceiling window behind him.
“You heard me. Pack a bag,” he repeats, his voice smooth, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “We’re going away for the weekend. Just you and me.”
My brows furrow, and I glance around, taking in the stillness of his beautiful apartment.
“Wait… now?” I ask, momentarily flabbergasted. “But I just got here. And I still have work to look over -”
“Exactly. That’s why we need to go. You’ve been working so hard. Too hard. If I had it my way, you’d do nothing at all to cause you stress or worry, and I figured we could both use a break. So…” He pauses dramatically, tilting his head to one side, green eyes practically glinting with mischief. “As I said: pack a bag, princesa. We’re leaving.”
“Where are we going, exactly?” I press, though I already know the answer.
One thing I have come to quickly learn about Santiago Ortiz: this man is never one to give away too much too soon.
“Ah, the mystery,” he teases, clearly enjoying this little game. “You’ll see.”
I roll my eyes playfully, but the thought of a weekend away - no responsibilities, no stress, no endless stack of marking work, and in the company of my gorgeous boyfriend - is admittedly appealing.
Perhaps Santi’s right. I have felt like I’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately, and my short trip to England wasn’t much of a break away given the emotional rollercoaster I was on at the time.
“Okay, okay,” I say, setting my work bag down next to the coffee table before turning toward his bedroom. “You win. I’ll pack some things. You’re lucky you’re cute, you know.”
He laughs; an easy, low sound that has a way of making the tension in my shoulders slip away.
“I love the flattery. But seriously - pack light. We won’t be gone long.”
I glance over my shoulder to where he has followed me and is now casually leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom.
“And you’re going to leave me guessing the whole way there?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as I reach into the drawer he had cleared out just for me. I begin to gather some of my clothes into a small duffle bag that I keep here for emergency purposes.