THE VALENTINE PROPOSAL

Chapter21. Dinner date2

LIORA

A smile quickly spread across my face. I checked myself in the mirror one last time before leaving the room, taking the elevator straight up to the rooftop.

The moment the doors opened, I gasped as my eyes landed on a breathtaking sight.

Candles were lit across the rooftop, forming a glowing path that led straight to Everett, who stood at the end holding a bouquet of flowers, waiting patiently for me.

A soft laugh escaped my lips as I stepped out, my heels clicking gently against the floor while I followed the trail of flickering lights toward him.

My smile only widened the closer I got, a warm, fluttering feeling spreading across my chest.

"Did you do all this?" I asked, my gaze sweeping across the neatly arranged table for two, the candles on it flickering softly in the slightly cool night air.

He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah, the internet helped. Hope it isn't a complete mess?"

I shook my head, letting out a small chuckle as my eyes met his again.

"Far from that. It's beautiful. You really went all out… I wasn't expecting this."

Something in his expression softened at my words, like he had been holding his breath, waiting for my reaction this entire time.

The thought that he had done all this by himself just for me made my heart flutter in a sweet, tingling way.

He handed me the bouquet of flowers. They were white roses, my favorite. My fingers tightened slightly around the stems as I stared at them.

He couldn't have known they were my favorite… right?

"I figured flowers would complete the vibe I was going for."

"Thanks," I said, inhaling their delicate scent. "What vibe were you going for?"

He let out a small chuckle, glancing around as if double-checking his own setup before looking back at me.

"Maybe something romantic. Not too flashy," he said. As he spoke, he suddenly looked nervous again. "I hope this isn't too much? Did I overdo it?"

"Everett," I called, gently cupping his jaw. "It's perfect."

His lips stretched into a smile as he met my gaze. He leaned in, and my breath hitched in my throat as his face neared mine. Then his lips touched mine.

It was a gentle kiss that lingered before he pulled away, biting his lower lip, his gaze sweeping over my slightly parted lips like he still needed more, but was doing a great job of holding himself back.

"You look ravishing," he said, his voice deep and hungry.

I couldn't see my face, but I knew I was blushing hard at his compliment.

"Thank you," I said, my voice unintentionally coming out in a whisper.

"Let's sit," he said, pulling out a chair for me before taking his own seat.

Not even a minute later, two servers came out with a trolley filled with elaborately plated, expensive dishes.

They served our food and then left. When we finished our meal, they returned again, almost as if on cue, with dessert.

"I think I'll skip dessert," I said, already too full to eat anything else.

"Are you sure? It's crème brûlée with gold flakes," Everett said.

My eyes widened, and I almost choked while sipping the wine in my hand. I quickly placed the glass down, glancing at the dessert on the trolley.

It was indeed crème brûlée with gold flakes. Then I looked at him in disbelief.

"You're joking, right? That dessert is worth like 5k per serving," I half exclaimed and half whispered.

"So what?" he said, like he hadn't just—

Wait.

I glanced at the table again. Two servings.

He just spent ten thousand dollars on only dessert. That was someone's two months' salary.

"10 thousand dollars! You spent 10 thousand dollars on dessert."

"It was actually 30 thousand dollars. The professional chef I hired to make these took 20k."

"What!?" I almost passed out hearing the amount.

Was he insane or something?

I knew he was rich, but it wasn't normal to spend that much.

"Who spends that much on dessert?" I asked, baffled, overwhelmed, and most of all appalled at the smirk playing on his lips.

"Baby, if you're that concerned about the cost of the dessert, then you might as well just eat it," he said, his voice deep and calm.

My heart nearly leapt out of my chest.

Did he just call me baby?

The sound of his voice was like a forbidden melody, igniting a heat between my legs instantly.

"Fine. I'll have dessert."

"Excellent." He snapped his fingers at the servers who had been standing there the entire time, waiting attentively.

I took my first spoonful, slowly dragging it across the surface before bringing it to my lips, tasting it, then lightly licking the sweetness from the corner of my mouth.

"Mmhh," I moaned as the rich flavor spread across my tongue. "It's divine."

I finished mine very quickly while Everett barely ate half of his, probably because he was distracted by watching me the entire time.

I tried to pretend like I didn't notice the way he was looking at me. The way his eyes slowly and deliberately raked over my body, making my already heated core ache with need.

I tried distracting myself by pouring more wine into my glass and sipping it much faster than I intended to.

I repeated this three more times, and on the fourth pour, he finally broke the silence between us.

"I didn't take you for a drunk. At this rate, you're going to finish the entire bottle, gulping it down like water." He sounded serious, but I caught the amusement in his voice.

I looked up, half glaring at him. Maybe it was the alcohol starting to kick in.

It was his fault that I was drinking this much. He was making me feel nervously hot with that intense stare of his.

"You're to blame for this. Me drinking this much, I mean."

"How?" he asked, raising a brow at me. "I haven't even had more than half a glass myself."