SASHA’S POV
I called Roland just to confirm if Sebastian had clocked out of work. When he told me Sebastian had already left for the evening, I immediately began preparing dinner.
This wasn’t just any meal, I wanted to make something special to show him how much I appreciated everything he’d done for me.
It wasn’t just the big gestures, though those were plenty, it was the little things, too.
The way he always made sure I was comfortable, his patience even when I wasn’t at my best, and how he made me feel like I was the only person that mattered to him.
I had been planning this for days. The ingredients were already set out on the counter, and I’d spent all afternoon watching tutorials to make sure I got everything right.
Cooking wasn’t exactly my strong suit, but tonight wasn’t about perfection. It was about effort.
By the time the front door opened, the table was set, and the aroma of garlic, herbs, and roasted chicken filled the apartment.
I wiped my hands on a towel and turned to see Sebastian walking in. He looked tired but still impossibly put together in his crisp suit, his tie already loosened.
His eyes landed on me, and the hint of a smile tugged at his lips.
“You’ve been busy,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he took in the table and the candles I’d lit for ambiance.
“I wanted to surprise you,” I said, brushing my hands nervously against my jeans. “You’re always taking care of me. I thought I’d do something for you for a change.”
Before I could say more, he stepped inside and held up a box in one hand. “Funny. I thought the same thing. I brought you this.”
Curious, I walked over and peeked inside the box. It was a cake, beautifully frosted and decorated with delicate flowers. The sight of it made my heart swell a little.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, looking up at him. “I was supposed to spoil you tonight.”
His smile deepened as he leaned in and kissed my temple. “Maybe I just like having an excuse to see you smile.”
I couldn’t help but grin as I took the cake from him and placed it in the fridge. “Thank you. I’ll save this for later, but first, you have to try what I made for dinner.”
He followed me to the dining table, his eyes flicking from the neatly folded napkins to the two glasses of wine I’d poured. “What’s on the menu?” he asked as he slid into his seat.
“Roast chicken with garlic butter and thyme, mashed potatoes, and some roasted veggies. I even made gravy from scratch.” I was trying to sound confident, but inside I was bracing myself for his verdict.
As I brought the plates over, Sebastian watched me closely. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, Sasha,” he said, his tone soft.
I placed the dish in front of him and smiled. “Yes, I did. Now stop talking and taste it before it gets cold.”
He chuckled but didn’t argue, picking up his fork and knife. I sat across from him, anxiously watching as he took his first bite.
The moment he closed his eyes and let out a low hum of approval, relief flooded through me.
“This is incredible,” he said after swallowing. “You’ve been holding out on me. I didn’t know you could cook like this.”
“Neither did I,” I admitted, laughing. “I was half-expecting it to turn out burnt or undercooked.”
He shook his head. “You did good. Really good.”
As we ate, our conversation flowed naturally, the way it always did when it was just the two of us.
We talked about random things-his day at work, some funny memory from my childhood, and even the absurdly high price of candles, which he teased me about after noticing the ones on the table.
“You know you could’ve just used the lights, right?” he said, smirking as he gestured to the flickering candles.
I rolled my eyes. “The candles make it romantic. Not everything has to be practical, Sebastian.”
He chuckled and took another sip of wine. “Fair point.”
By the time we were done eating, I felt a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the wine. I loved these moments with him,
the ease, the laughter, the way he made me feel like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
As he pushed his empty plate away, he leaned back in his chair, looking at me with a raised brow. “So, is this where I thank you for dinner and you tell me to do the dishes?”
I shook my head and stood, holding out my hand to him. “Not tonight. There’s more.”
He looked amused as he took my hand and let me pull him to his feet. “More? Should I be worried?”
“Not at all,” I said, my voice low as I led him out of the dining room and toward the bedroom.
When we reached the door, I turned to face him, my heart pounding in my chest.
His expression had shifted slightly, his playful smirk replaced by something more intense. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from my face.
“Sasha,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t have to do any of this. You know that, right?”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. But I wanted to. You deserve it.”
His hand moved to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over my skin. “You spoil me.”
“Maybe. But you don’t seem to mind,” I teased, my voice trembling slightly.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in a slow, deliberate kiss that made my knees go weak.
When he pulled back, his eyes searched mine, his thumb still tracing lazy circles on my cheek.
“Lead the way,” he said, his voice a low rumble.
I reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping inside with him close behind me. This night wasn’t over yet, and I was determined to make it one he wouldn’t forget.