After the grueling gym session, Evan stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away the exhaustion ging to his muscles.

  He had barely beewo days, but his body already felt like it had been in an Olympic training camp.

  Once he was freshened up, he threw on a T-shirt and joggers and made his way to the studio louhe plush leather sofa practically called to him. He sank into it with a long exhale, muscles melting into the cushions.

  The lounge was quiet at this hour. A few crew members passed by, chatting in low voices. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the hum of editing rooms and the occasional ugh from a break room. The studio felt different outside of the shoots—more rexed, more normal.

  He closed his eyes, half-dozing, until—

  “Enjoying your retirement, viejo?”

  Evan cracked an eye open to see álvaro standing over him, arms crossed, his signature smirk firmly in pce. His hair was slightly damp from a shower, but aside from that, he looked pletely unfazed by his afternoon shoot.

  “Not retiring,” Evan grumbled. “Just… regeing my green bar.”

  álvaro chuckled, reag into his pocket and tossing Evan a bottle of water. “e on, Evan, time to go.”

  Evan sat up, groaning as he stretched. “Where?”

  “My pce. You’re not sleepionight, are you?” álvaro raised an eyebrow.

  “Right. Fair point.”

  Evan pushed himself off the couch, still sore as hell, and followed álvaro out of the studio. As they stepped outside, the te afternoon sun bathed the parking lot in warm gold.

  Standing beside álvaro’s sleek Porsche, arms crossed, was Isabel.

  She was out of her work outfit, now dressed in high-waisted jeans and a cropped bck tank top, her toomach exposed beh the fading Bara sunlight. Her wavy brown hair framed her sharp features, and her lips curled into a smirk as soon as she saw them approach.

  “Well, well. Took you long enough.”

  álvaro grinned and, without hesitation, leaned in, pressing a quick but deep kiss to her lips.

  Evan blinked.

  Wait. What?

  Isabel kissed him back, her hand brushing álvaro’s jaw before she pulled away with a teasing glint in her eyes.

  “Hmm. Not bad. But I’ll need a better oer.”

  álvaro chuckled. “Don’t worry, cari?o, you’ll get plenty ter.”

  Evan, standing awkwardly nearby, watched the exge with a lot of questions suddenly buzzing in his head.

  Are they… dating?

  They never said anything. Hell, álvaro flirted with everyone—was this just how things were in the industry? But no… this felt different. There was an ease between them, something natural, something real.

  Before he could overthink it further, álvaro slid into the driver’s seat, Isabel took the front passenger seat, and Evaled into the back.

  The car rumbled to life as they pulled onto the road, the city lights flickering past the windows.

  “So,” Isabel said, kig her feet up on the dashboard, her voice dripping with amusement, “how was your se today, mi amor?”

  álvaro smirked, keeping his eyes on the road. “You mean with Sofía? Good. Professional.”

  “Mm, professional?” Isabel arched an eyebrow. “So no fun?”

  “Oh, I had fun.”

  Isabel smirked. “She didn’t try to drain your soul dry like st time?”

  álvaro ughed. “Nah, she was in a nice mood today.”

  Isabel clicked her tohat’s all I o hear.”

  Evan, in the backseat, was defihird-wheeling right now.

  Then, Isabel turned her attention to him.

  “And you, blondie,” she said, twisting in her seat to face him. “You had a good time with Senait?”

  Evaated. “Yeah, uh… it was okay.”

  “Good. She’s a beast. But you kept up, right?” Isabel chuckled.

  Evan shrugged. “Barely.”

  álvaro gri him through the rearview mirror. “He’s adapting fast. You should’ve seen him lifting with her after the shoot.”

  Isabel raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You’ve been hitting the weights?”

  Evan shrugged. “Trying to.”

  Isabel tilted her head. “You are looking a little more solid thaerday. Or maybe I just wasn’t paying attention before.”

  Eva heat creep up his neck. “Right. Thanks.”

  “You keep this up, and maybe I’ll take you on for a one-on-one sometime,” she chuckled.

  álvaro whistled. “Careful, hermanito. She’s challenging you to a duel.”

  Isabel grinned, clearly enjoying Evan’s awkwardness.

  The rest of the drive was filled with casual versation, pyful jabs, and occasional flirtatioween Isabel and álvaro that Evan most definitely didn’t o be present for.

  ***

  Eventually, they pulled up to álvaro’s vil. The Mediterranean-style home glowed uhe evening sky, the pool lights casting shimmering green refles over the water. The st of salt and citrus filled the air, mingling with the distant sound of waves against the coast.

  Inside, álvaro tossed his keys onto the ter.

  “You’re in luck, Evan,” he said, rolling up his sleeves and pulling out a bottle of olive oil. “Tonight, we’re making seafood pael.”

  Isabel leaned against the ter, watg álvaro work. “And by ‘we,’ you mean me doing half the work.”

  álvaro shot her a zy grin. “Oh, e on, cari?o. Cooking is more fun when we do it together.”

  Evan cleared his throat. “Need me to do anything?”

  “Yes. Sit there and look pretty.” Isabel smirked.

  Evan sighed. “Great.”

  Evan watched as they moved around the kit, w in sync as they prepared dinner.

  The rich aroma of saffron and seafood filled the vil as álvaro stirred the pael pan, Isabel slig vegetables with practiced ease.

  Their movements were smooth, unspoken—just like if they were in a shoot.

  Evan sat at the ter, watg them, still trying to process their dynamic.

  He had spent the st two days watg them work—as professionals, as performers. But this? This was something else.

  The tensioween them wasn’t for a wasn’t for cameras.

  It was just them.

  At one point, Isabel nudged álvaro with her hip. “Careful with that rice, chef.”

  álvaro smirked. “I always handle my rice properly.”

  Isabel gave him a look. “That was terrible.”

  “You love it.”

  She rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered.

  Evan exhaled. Yeah. They were defiogether.

  By the time the pael was ready, they set the table, and Evan took his first bite.

  The fvours hit instantly—the smoky depth of the paprika, the delicate sweetness of the seafood, the perfect bance of seasoning.

  As they dug into the meal, álvaro leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “So, Evan. How’s the food?”

  Evan swallowed his bite, nodding. “Really damn good.”

  álvaro grinned. “Told you. Spanish cooking is uable.”

  “Good. You’ll need all the energy for tomorrow,” ented Isabel.

  Evan paused mid-bite. “...Why do I feel like I should be worried?”

  Isabel grinned but didn’t eborate.

  After dinner, Isabel wiped her lips with a napkin, then turo álvaro with a slow, mischievous smile.

  “Well,” she murmured, leaning in to kiss him lightly. “Time for some real a tonight.”

  Evan froze.

  álvaro chuckled, brushing a thumb against her . “Of course.”

  ***

  Later that night, Evan id in bed, staring at the ceiling.

  He could hear them.

  It wasn’t loud, but the walls werely soundproof.

  At first, it was just murmured voices, ughter, the occasional teasing remark.

  Then clearer.

  Isabel’s voice—lightly teasing, between gasps.

  “Did you spend all your energy fug Sofía?” Isabel’s voice carried through the wall, amused but demanding. “e harder.”

  A low chuckle from álvaro. “Patience, se?orita. I’m going to cum ily thirty minutes. Just like in shoots.”

  Evan buried his fa his pillow.

  This was going to be a long night.