Chapter 37.
Yesterday had been nothing but unproductive.
Amelia had spent the entire day in Maximo’s arms, tangled in warm sheets and deeper stares, doing absolutely nothing aside from letting herself exist in his touch. No plans. No museums. Just kisses, slow laughs, and the heat of his body pressed into hers until sleep stole them both.
Now, she stood by the door, arms crossed, her lips pulled into the softest pout.
A black pleated mini skirt wrapped snug around her hips, paired with a cream off-shoulder top that clung to her like a second skin. Her hair was tied up in a loose ponytail, and the soft nude heels made her legs look longer—sleek, and almost too tempting.
Her lips pushed forward, pout deepening. “Do we have to go?”
Maximo’s eyes dragged across her body, slow and delibe
