𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝟐𝟗

I woke up feeling the warmth of the sun peeking through the curtains. The morning light was soft and golden, casting a glow over the cabin bedroom. I stretched lazily, letting out a content sigh, and that's when I noticed something unusual beside me—roses. A bouquet of fresh, deep red roses lay across the bed, their petals soft and velvety against the crisp white sheets. My heart skipped a beat, and I smiled, knowing exactly who was behind this.

Sitting up, I pushed the covers back and reached for the roses, inhaling their sweet scent. But that wasn't all. Next to the bouquet was a large poster board propped up against the pillows, written in bold black letters: "Will you be my girlfriend?"

I blinked, a mix of amusement and confusion washing over me. I thought we already cleared that up yesterday when I said yes, but clearly, Davis had his own ideas about how things should go. Underneath the question were two boxes—one marked "Yes" and the other "No"—and a black Sharpie lay beside them. With a smile tugging at my lips, I picked up the pen, drew a little heart, and checked off the "Yes" box.

My eyes shifted to something else off to the side, and I noticed a bright orange box from Hermès. My heart quickened again, curiosity piquing as I reached for it. There was a small note attached: "Matching sets, sweets."

I bit my lip, holding back a smile as I carefully lifted the lid of the box. Inside was a stunning rose gold Hermès bracelet, sleek and elegant, with a pin clasp. I ran my finger over the smooth surface, admiring the craftsmanship, and then noticed something even more special—it was engraved on the inside with the word "Sweets". My breath caught in my throat. Davis had been calling me that for a while now, a little inside joke since I ran a bakery and he never seemed to leave without making some flirty comment about how "sweet" I was.

The gesture melted me. He wasn't just asking me to be his girlfriend again, he was making sure I knew he was serious, that this wasn't just some fling.

With the bracelet clasped around my wrist, I pushed myself out of bed, my bare feet hitting the wooden floor with a soft thud. I could hear the shower running from the bathroom, and that familiar deep voice humming a tune under his breath. Davis. My stomach fluttered again at the thought of him, of the way he had been treating me like I was the only woman in the world these past few days. I couldn't help but smile as I tiptoed to the bathroom door, the warmth from the steam seeping through the small crack in the door.

I pushed it open slightly, just enough to peek inside, and there he was—Davis, fresh out of the shower, standing in front of the mirror with a towel slung low around his waist. His skin glistened, water droplets trailing down his toned chest and abs. I bit my lip again, feeling the familiar rush of heat as I admired him from afar. He was so fine, and I wasn't about to pretend otherwise.

With a playful grin, I walked in without hesitation, the bracelet jangling softly on my wrist. Davis turned around at the sound, and the moment he saw me, his face lit up with that smile that made my heart do somersaults.