The Line Between Us - Alejandro Balde Love Story

Chapter 17: Unmasking Alejandro

I never thought a simple gesture could change everything, but with Alejandro, it seemed like every small moment carried a weight I hadn't been ready to feel.

It started innocuously—a late afternoon meeting at the studio. I was running late, my phone buzzing with texts from Berta about our plans later. The city was buzzing with its usual rhythm, but today it felt louder, like my nerves were amplifying every sound.

When I finally arrived, slightly out of breath and flustered, Alejandro was already there, leaning casually against the wall with that familiar smirk on his face. "Nice of you to join us," he teased, his tone light but his eyes warm.

"Sorry," I muttered, trying to compose myself. "Traffic was crazy."

He shrugged, his expression softening as he handed me a cup of coffee. "Thought you might need this. Two sugars, no cream, right?"

I blinked, taken aback by the gesture. "How did you...?"

Alejandro just shrugged, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips. "I pay attention."

It was such a small thing—him remembering how I liked my coffee—but it felt like a crack in the wall he'd built around himself, a glimpse of the kindness hidden behind all the cocky bravado. My heart fluttered, and I hated how easily it reacted to him.

We spent the afternoon going over the campaign, but my mind kept drifting back to the way he'd looked at me when he handed me the coffee. I tried to focus, scribbling notes and pretending to be engrossed, but every now and then, I'd catch him watching me. Not with the teasing smirk he usually wore, but with something softer, something that made my pulse race.

It was after the meeting when I saw it again—the side of Alejandro he rarely showed anyone. As we were packing up, one of the assistants struggled with a heavy box, fumbling and nearly dropping it. Before I could react, Alejandro was already there, lifting it effortlessly and setting it down gently, all while offering the assistant a reassuring smile.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice low and kind.

The assistant nodded, looking relieved. "Yeah, thanks. I don't know how I would've managed."

"No problem," he said simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe, to him, it was.

I watched the exchange in silence, my heart squeezing at the unexpected tenderness in his actions. This wasn't the Alejandro everyone else saw—the confident, sometimes arrogant footballer who always had a witty comeback. This was a man who noticed the little things, who stepped in quietly when no one was looking.

We walked out of the studio together, and for once, the silence between us wasn't awkward or heavy. It was comfortable, almost easy. I could feel my defenses slowly crumbling, the walls I'd built between us weakening with every step.

"You surprised me today," I admitted as we reached the parking lot.

Alejandro glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. "Good surprise or bad surprise?"

I smiled, genuinely this time. "Good. I guess I'm starting to see a side of you I didn't expect."

He chuckled softly, kicking a stray pebble on the ground. "There's more to me than what you think, Isa."

The way he said my name, soft and intimate, made my heart skip a beat. And for the first time, I allowed myself to see past the surface. To see Alejandro not just as the footballer with the sharp wit and flirtatious grin, but as someone with depth, with kindness, with a heart that beat just as fiercely as mine.

As we stood there, the sun dipping low in the sky, I realized that maybe—just maybe—I didn't have to fight this feeling anymore. The thought terrified me, but it also made my pulse quicken in a way that was impossible to ignore.

Because beneath all the rivalry, the banter, and the tension, I was starting to see the real Alejandro. And that was more dangerous than I'd ever imagined.