Chapter 37

Amelia

I suck in a breath as I take in all of his features like a woman seeing for the first time, Harry and the entire impressiveness of the house forgotten.

He's in an all black ensemble. Black tee, black ripped jeans, black boots. Black baseball cap snug on his hair that's in a bun. The navy bomber jacket that's currently laying on the ground in front of him is the only thing that isn't black. He looks exhausted but still manages to remain excruciatingly pleasing to the eye.

Miguel fucking Sanchez.

The reason I'm here.

The deep ache that forms in my stomach everytime he's in the area returns with a vengeance. I clasp my shaky hands behind my back as we stare at each other and I swallow when I see his eyes move from my face to take in the rest of my body, settling especially on my bare legs, the blue dress somehow riding high up on my thighs.

You can't catch me dead in a dress, I'd told him once.

And yet I'd put one on particularly to see him.

Harry clears his throat "And th