Page 167 of Champagne Fizz

SIMON

SEVERAL MONTHS LATER

Iopen the door to my apartment, holding two tickets to a live taping of Sue Blade’s show tonight. I’m still not really into the woman’s over-the-top affirmations while simultaneously spewing hard-love and no-bullshit, but my girlfriend loves her.

Kendall’s going to go crazy when I surprise her with these tickets. Who’s the boyfriend of the year? That’s right, I am.

Except—

The entire front room of my apartment is filled with candles.

Oh, and I’m not talking a few I’m-taking-a-sexy-bath candles, there is an over-the-top I’m-going-to-conjure-someone-from-the-dead amount of candles in my living room.

My fireplace and mantel are covered in glass jars and flickering flames. Every side table, surface, and wood floor is adorned with tea lights and candelabras with candles tall and short and glowing yellow.

“Kendall?” I call out with a frog in my throat. I’m surrounded by fire, but the heat in my chest is not from all those candles flickering. Even though I know she’s a wedding planner, and she likes to try out new ideas in surprising moments without telling me—thisfeels like something else.

There are rose petals on the floor.

Yellow rose petals—which are a symbol of friendship, but when it comes to Kendall, yellow obviously means something else. Especially, when the petals in question lead into the back hall.

“Kendall?” I venture again, kicking myself because I’m the one who’s supposed to make grand gestures like this. I’m the one who’s supposed to fill the house with the scent of roses and glowing light.

I follow the trail of petals and lanterns, discarding my bag and coat in an open corner that’s not filled with fire hazards. As the owner of Flambé, you’d think this many open flames wouldn’t make me nervous, but that state-of-the-art sprinkler system isn’t installed in my house. Or maybe I don’t want to admit it’s something else that’s making my stomach flip.

I’m already hot. My head is cloudy, and I want my clothes off.

Is this actually happening?

My chest tightens as I follow the trail of petals to my bedroom door, clutching the tickets in my hand in case I’m grossly misinterpreting this and Kendall’s about to pop out in some old sweats and a t-shirt and ask what I want to watch on Netflix.

I knock softly and press my hand to the wood.

“Come in,” I hear her say, and my heart jumps into my throat and starts hammering.

I push the door open and my entire bedroom is full of gold. There are string lights and flower blossoms hanging from the ceiling. There are sheers over my bed like a princess throne, and candles are flickering inside glass containers all throughout the room. It’s like I’ve walked into starlight and sunshine at the same time.

Rose petals on the bed.

Soft music playing.

This is everything Kendall would dream of, and of course, she made it for herself.

She’s there too.

Kendall’s hair is wild with curls, her skin gleaming in the candlelight, her luscious pink mouth smiling at me as I take in what is happening. She’s lying on my bed, behind those silk sheers and—

She’s wearing that sexy yellow dress.

The dress I told her to wear—if—when—

“Kendall … ?” I groan, breathless, dropping the tickets onto my side table, because my plans for tonight just changed drastically. “This is— you look—”

I pull the sheers back and admire her lounging like a goddess and looking up at me with a pink flush on her neck. I want my mouth on that flesh. I want my mouth on all of her, and damn, my body floods with heat, because I’m about to get just that. Her blush makes me wonder how long she’s been here waiting for me, and if she’s worked herself up just thinking about my reaction when I get home.

“You like?” she asks playfully.

“Oh, I more than like,” I groan, barely able to speak. “You must have spent all day setting this up.” She shrugs like it was nothing, letting the strap of her yellow dress fall off her shoulder seductively. “You really didn’t have to bother with—”

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