The house was wrapped in silence.
Giulia had been asleep for at least half an hour. After a full day chasing pirates and eating colorful candy, she had passed out the moment her head touched the pillow.
I went downstairs to get a glass of water and found Miguel in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea in his hands. He was wearing a simple gray T-shirt and dark sweatpants.
Relaxed. Slightly disheveled.
And dangerously charming.
— Tea? — he offered when he saw me. — There’s still some of that blend you bought at the market.
— The chamomile with lemon? — I smiled. — My favorite.
He prepared a mug and handed it to me. Our fingers brushed for a second and, like always, that quiet spark appeared.
And like always, we pretended we didn’t feel it.
I sat at the kitchen
