Spending an entire week out of town on a whim meant that I hadn't been prepared or organised.

The kitchen had a mild odour to it. The fruit in the fruit bowl was going a bit gross. Fruit flies were gathering.

The bread in the cupboard was growing mould and the milk in the fridge needed to be thrown out.

Marnie sat on the sofa with her laptop open while she tapped out her story. It was going well. So she told me.

She was now over come with inspiration thanks to her new relationship. The details were far more than I needed and I was positive I wasn't going to be reading her book when she was finished with it.

"What time are you leaving?" I asked Marnie while I rinsed a cloth in hot water so I could wipe the countertop down. "Could you drop my trash bags in the chute on the way down?"

She narrowed her gaze over the laptop screen. "What am I? A damn live in maid?"

"Never mind," I waved her off. "I'll do it. Amalia will be here soon."

"There's no need to be subtle, Max. It's me. You can tell me to leave."

I wiped the bench down and looked at my cell screen for the time. It was almost three. She said she'd grab dinner on the way here.

"It's just— ya know— I haven't seen her in a while and—"

"People in love are pathetic," she mumbled, staring at her screen.

"Pardon?"

Her head shot up. "Huh? What?"

I rolled my eyes and tied off the trash bags. "How's Jordan?"

"His dick is great. Thanks for asking."

I carried the trash towards the door, calling over my shoulder, "I know you like him. A lot."

Her response wasn't heard when the door closed behind me. When I got back from the chute, Marnie was putting her laptop back into its bag.

"Your lady's dad isn't so bad," she spoke, flat and disinterested as usual. "Kiara brought him around for dinner during the week. He's . . . passionate."

"That he is," I agreed, dropping into the sofa. The apartment was clean and didn't smell weird now. "Do things seem serious between them?"

Marnie nodded with mild disgust. "I found wedding catalogues in her bedroom. She'd circled gowns and themes and table pieces and a bunch of other weird shit."

"Damn," I ran a hand through my hair. "I hope Amalia knows if they plan on getting married. She wasn't too pleased about being kept in the dark about their relationship to begin with."

"Yeah I don't think Elias knows either," Marnie wrapped her long black coat around herself and fastened the buttons. "This is just Kiara being obsessive and weird. She blabbers on all the time about how she's thirty two and her biological clock is ticking."

I smiled. "Elias is the kind of man I can imagine wanting to get married again. She might not have to wait long."

"Bleh," she scoffed, pulling her hat on.

I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees as she started to collect her things up. "What would you say if Jordan proposed?"

"I would tell him to spend ten grand so we can travel instead of ten grand on one boring day where I'd have to wear some hideous white gown and pretend that I want to talk to my pretentious cousin that I haven't seen since I was eighteen."

"You can wear whatever you want on your wedding day," I said. "It doesn't have to be white."

"Traditionally, it couldn't be. It'd have to be cream. Like all of the ejaculation I've seen since I was sixteen."

I stood up. "It was good seeing you again. Call me during the week. We'll get lunch."

"Good. Work is boring as hell now. The old bitch that told me not to cuss left but now there's some girl who's eighteen in the position. Her nails are so long she can barely tap her damn phone screen and her voice is the actual sound of a turtle reaching climax. You ever heard that sound?"

I held the door open and pretended to be uncertain. "I mean, I can't recall hearing that sound before, as bizarre as that seems, I just haven't been in the same place as an orgasming turtle recently."

"It's called the internet, Max."

"I'll keep that in mind."

After Marnie was gone, I went and had a shower and slipped into some clean black joggers and a T-shirt.

Amalia and I had a quiet afternoon planned. She was bringing some sort of surprise but wouldn't tell me much about it until she got here.

While I killed some time waiting, I went online and double checked the arrangements I'd made for November 6th. Amalia's birthday.

Lucas and I were November 30th. I convinced Mom and Dad to give me an early present in the form of cash so I could put it towards Amalia's surprise. They were all for it.

I sat at the breakfast bar with my laptop open and sent a quick message to Mom.

Heard from the clinic yet? How's Abby doing?

They said that she's settling in. She's not happy though and that it's normal for progress to be slow in the beginning. Still on a no contact order :( dad just wants to tell her he loves her.

She knows he does.

I put the phone down and sighed. Abby did know that Dad loved her. We all knew how much his relationship with her meant to him.

But he needed to remind her and I understood that. It had to be hard for him. I'd only just arrived home this morning and he'd already sent me a text about how much he appreciated having me home for the week and wanted me to come back as soon as I could.

"Hello," a beautiful voice sounded from the entrance and I sat up straighter, smiling as I slid off the barstool and padded across the living room.

Amalia appeared from behind the bookshelf separating the living room and the front door. She was lugging a large duffel bag and two paper bags of food.

"Hey beautiful," I reached for her duffel. "You came all the way here with this? It's heavy."

She shrugged as I carefully set it down beside the sofa.

"I'm getting a car."

"You don't need to get a car, Max," she wandered over to the kitchen and set the paper bags down. "No one wants to drive a car in this city. It's a nightmare."

She was about to walk off but I snatched an arm around her waist and pulled her into my chest, rough. Her lips parted with a surprised gasp.

"I've missed you," I murmured.

Her hands slid up the front of my chest and held my shoulders. "I missed you too."

I leaned in and kissed her soft lips. "You look beautiful," I mumbled, still kissing her delectable mouth.

She was dressed down in a pair of jeans, a large hoodie and a beanie. I could still feel the chill of outside on her clothing. But she began to warm as I wrapped my arms around her and held her as tight as possible.

She kept her eyes closed for a moment after I'd leaned back and her smile made my entire stomach twist. I put that smile there. It felt too good to be true. I wanted to make her smile all the time.

"So how's things with your Mom and Dad?" She asked. "Was it hard to leave?"

"Yes and no," I looked down at her freckled nose and realised I'd missed her more than I thought. "I knew I was coming back to you. But they're emotional. Dad more so. It was really good to spend some time with my parents."

"Even with the parking lot paparazzi fights?" She giggled and shook her head.

"That sort of thing doesn't really surprise me anymore. You get accustomed to it when you have a Dad like mine. It gives you some sort of insight to the family you're getting involved with."

"I knew," she gave me a challenging smile. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't think it was worth it."

I leaned in and kissed her dimple. Her nose. Her forehead. "I— Amalia I— I like you a lot," I swallowed. "Like . . . a lot."

Her almond eyes moved over my face, her thick lashes fluttered as she shifted her focus over my features with hooded lids. "I like you a lot too."

Like didn't seem to be the right word.

"Are you hungry?" She said and looked over her shoulder at the food.

My grip on her tightened and I pushed my hips against her. "Yeah."

Heat and surprise filled her gaze when she looked at me. "Getting bold I see."

I felt my cheeks warm up. "Sorry—"

"I like it," she moved out of my hold.

The space made me feel empty but I wasn't going to starve her. We sat down beside each other and she laid out the gourmet burgers and sweet potato fries she'd bought.

We talked a bit about how our week went and what we got up to while she was here and I was there. But we'd talked a lot while I was gone so there wasn't much that we needed to catch up on.

"So how long do I have to wait before I find out what this surprise is?" I asked, pushing the box of fries out of reach. The burger was enough to fill me up.

She wiped her grinning mouth with a napkin before she stood up. "You're not expecting guests this evening, right?"

"No," I watched her with a curious stare.

She unzipped her duffle bag and pulled out a large roll of clear plastic cover. It was thick stuff but she didn't struggle with it as she laid it on the ground, kicked it and sent it rolling across the carpet.

The tube hit the wall on the other side of the room and I stared at the ground as Amalia started unfolding it so it covered more space.

Almost the entire living room floor was protected by a sheet of plastic and I looked at her with concern.

"That's the surprise? You're going to murder me?"

She was on her hands and knees, pulling the plastic tight and burst into a loud laughter. "Well I wasn't very discreet hauling this thing up the road and into the building. I'm also not sure how I'd get you out of here afterwards. So if that was the plan, I'm not doing a great job so far."

I laughed as she crawled over to her bag and pulled out a large piece of white folded canvas.

Again, it was thick and by the time she'd unfolded it, it was about the size of a double bed sheet. A bottle of paint came next. The colour was pale pink.

"We're painting?"

"Sort of," she smiled and stood up.

She started pouring puddles of pink paint in various spots all over the canvas. It was polka dotted and the pink had a slight shimmer in it.

The fumes of the plastic and paint were strong enough to stink out the small apartment, so I cracked the kitchen window. Just a little. I didn't want to let the warmth out.

As I walked back into the living area, I stood beside Amalia who was putting the lid back on the bottle.

"What are we painting?"

"We're going to get naked, Max," she looked up at me. "And we're going to have sex. Right there."

"On the paint?"

She nodded and started to pull her top over her head. "Is that okay with you? It's non toxic paint."

I wasn't not okay with it. "Uh I just feel like I'm missing something here."

She stood in her bra and I swallowed, attempting to focus on her words.

"I read about this online. Couples have sex on a sheet of canvas like this, with paint, and it creates an abstract image. I've always wanted to try it. But there was no one I trusted enough to do it with. It feels special with you."

That was all that I needed to hear. I turned to face her as she unclipped her bra and let it slide down her arms.

So I pulled off my T-shirt and then I gripped her waist and kissed her mouth.

"That was—"

"Perfect," I breathed hard as I laid on the floor, covered from head to toe in paint while Amalia curled into my side with her hair matted in pale pink paint as well. "Shower?"

"Yeah," she stood up.

I leaned on an elbow and watched her. So beautiful. So confident and unashamed.

Her dark hair spilled down over her shoulders and chest but it was frazzled from the activity. She smiled as I joined her and we looked down at the sheet of canvas.

Smudges and blobs covered it. There were hand prints and in one spot, it was obvious where she'd been on her hands and knees, the smudges of my knees and legs behind hers.

I smiled. It was cool. And different.

She tip toed across the plastic towards the corridor. Before she stepped on to the carpet, she grabbed a towel that she'd left beside the threshold earlier and made a little bridge going from the plastic to the bathroom door.

I followed behind her and closed the door while she turned the hot water on.

"So," she smiled at me once we were inside the shower, pink immediately started running down our bodies and into the drain hole. "How was that?"

"We might have to do it again," I kissed the top of her nose. "I want one to put in my room."

She giggled and I looked behind her in the mirror outside of the shower.

The most flawless image of her body in my arms. It was exquisite. She was the art.

She had no idea what it felt like to have her with me. It was priceless. My hands moved down her spine and settled on her butt.

"Maybe we can put one in the gallery," she suggested with a mischievous grin. "We'll just label it 'impressionist piece by young couple'"

We both laughed. She was kidding though. She told me how special and intimate it was to her.

The fact that she wanted to share the experience with me and me alone, meant more than she could understand.

The water was warm while we scrubbed paint off ourselves. It came off with no trouble and I helped Amalia get it out of her hair.

My fingers ran through the strands and the dried pink broke away and ran down the drain.

She tipped her head to the side as I rubbed my fingers against her scalp to be sure it was all gone.

I watched her lips part and a small sound of appreciation made my blood travel south.

"That feels good, Max," her voice was so damn seductive and it was effortless.

(A/N. 👀 )

With my hand still wrapped in her hair, I drew her in and kissed her. She quickly threw her arms around my neck with so much force that I stepped back and bumped into the tiled wall.

Her mouth moved down my jaw, onto my neck and she sucked, hard. I watched her in the mirror. The image was a little blurred from the steam but it made me twitch.

I placed my hands on either side of her hips and spun her around, slamming her back into my chest.

"Look at how beautiful you are," I mumbled, biting her earlobe as her knees buckled.

My hand wrapped around her throat, my thumb tilting her chin up so I could kiss her jaw. My free hand slid down her wet stomach and met her apex.

She fit so well. She looked so right with me.

My fingers dipped inside of her and she drew in a sharp breath as she threw her head back.

I watched her reflection and exhaled as I worked her into a state.

She kept attempting to cross her legs. She shifted, she moaned and then she gasped when I pushed on her back and spread her legs in front of me.

"How'r you feeling baby?" I asked, one hand holding on to her hip as she palmed the glass shower wall. The other hand dipped between her legs. "You wanna go again."

"Mhmm," she panted as I kept sliding my fingers over her sensitive spot.

I'd found it early on. It wasn't hard. I was in tune to her. I noticed how her entire body trembled and she moaned when I was in the right place and that was where my focus went.

The view was perfect. In the mirror I could see her pleasure filled face. Her chest. The way the beads of water ran down her full lips.

And in front of me, her defined back and perfect ass which I watched as I slid inside of her.

She buckled and her hands turned to fists on the glass wall. I couldn't get enough of this girl. She was the one. I knew it.