Yeah, this is officially the best day ever.
I stop at a cart on the way back to his apartment and buy the prettiest bouquet of deep sprayed purple roses.
Purple is his favorite color.
He hasn’t texted yet, so I know he’s still tied up with Garrett, and as such I take my time. Our reservations aren’t until seven thirty, so there’s plenty of time to surprise him, get ready, and maybe get him off somewhere in between.
Thankfully, after the fifth day here, Cam was able to get me a keycard so I wouldn’t have to keep texting him to be let up.
At the time, it just felt like it was a good idea, logistically, but now…
Now it feels likemore.
Like I have a key to his fucking place, which isn’t that weird in itself. Plenty of friends have keys to their friends’ houses or apartments.
But giving your girlfriend or boyfriend a key to your place… it’s different. No one had ever done that for me before, because I married my third girlfriend before I graduated college.
I never got to experience dating and getting a key to someone’s place, and that was okay, I was fine with that.
But as I walk up to Cam’s apartment, a bouquet full of roses in one arm and a bottle of Macallan in the other, something about being able to do this just makes it feel more real, I guess.
The apartment is just as I left it. No sign of Cam. Good.
I look everywhere in his place for a vase, but of course, he doesn’t have one.
So I grab a long, slender drinking glass, some kitchen shears, and trim the flower stems myself once I fill the glass with water. I expertly arrange the bottle of Macallan next to them, smiling at my handiwork before I head into the shower to get ready.
When I get out, I see a text from Cam lighting up my screen.
On my way
I shoot him back a thumbs up, pull out my dress pants and a silk button down. Thank God I packed some fancy clothes just in case. Not that I couldn’t have bought something while I’m up here if I needed it, but it just goes to show you can never be too prepared when packing.
I’m just running the mousse through my hair when I hear the door shut. I glance at the clock. It’s a little past four.
“Hey,” he calls out, his voice trailing off, and I know he sees my gifts. I make my way out to the kitchen to see him standing at the island, running his fingers over the petals.
“Hey,” I say, leaning against the fridge. I cross my arms, which makes my rolled up sleeves tight, but they show off the muscles I know he likes.
“Hey…” His gaze roves over me, taking me in. I know I look good tonight, and that’s the point.
I want to look so good he can’t stand it. I want to get him so fucking hard and flustered he won’t be able to resist me.
With the way he’s looking at me, I’m on the right track.
“What’s all this?” he asks, his voice slightly raspy.
“This…” I say smoothly, “is for you landing your biggest gig yet.” I grin.
Cam’s shoulders loosen, his eyebrows furrow, and he looks like he’s about to cry.
But I can’t have that. Not yet, anyway. We haven’t even had dinner yet.
I move away from the fridge and approach him.
“You didn’t have to do anything—”
I stop in front of him, imploring his gaze. “I wanted to,” I tell him.
