The elevator ride upward was quiet.
Not uncomfortable.
Just filled with thoughts neither of them spoke aloud.
Maya stood beside Rege with her hand still inside his, occasionally glancing at him before looking away again. Her heartbeat still had not completely settled after the way he had looked at her downstairs. Or the way he had placed her glasses back onto her face so gently, like even something that small mattered to him.
Meanwhile, Rege remained unusually silent beside her.
Maya wondered if he regretted calling this a date.
Rege wondered if she would like the surprise.
The elevator doors slid open softly onto his floor.
Rege guided her out quietly and toward his penthouse entrance. The familiar warmth of his home greeted them immediately once they stepped inside. Soft instrumental music drifted faintly somewhere in the background while the large windows overlooking Manhattan allowed silver morning light to spill beautifully across the marble floors.
Still hand in hand, Rege led her deeper into the penthouse.
Maya followed curiously.
They ascended the staircase leading toward the second floor, passing his bedroom and the two guest rooms. Maya slowed slightly when she noticed him continuing past the familiar area entirely.
Then she blinked.
Another staircase.
Leading upward.
Her brows furrowed slightly in confusion as she glanced around.
She had always thought Rege's penthouse occupied the highest floor in the building. All the penthouses in the building had two floors. Even hers.
So where exactly were they going?
Rege gently tightened his hold on her hand as they climbed higher together.
The staircase narrowed slightly as they ascended, and the lighting became softer overhead. Then slowly, Maya felt it.
Fresh air.
Cool.
Warm.
Natural.
Her eyes widened faintly.
And when they reached the top—
Rege stepped out first before turning immediately to help her carefully upward beside him.
The second Maya fully emerged onto the rooftop—
she gasped.
Completely.
Her eyes widened so much they almost hurt.
The rooftop overlooked the entirety of Manhattan.
The city stretched endlessly beneath the cloudy silver-blue morning sky while sunlight slowly broke through the retreating rain clouds in soft golden streaks. Buildings glistened faintly from the earlier rainfall, and distant traffic sounded softened this high above the city.
The view alone was breathtaking.
But Maya barely noticed it at first.
Because the rooftop itself looked like something out of a dream.
A large cream-colored camp tent stood near the center surrounded entirely by roses.
Red roses.
Hundreds of them.
Maybe thousands.
Flowers decorated nearly every visible surface around them, creating winding paths of petals and soft arrangements around the rooftop edges. The scent of roses drifted gently through the morning breeze, mixing beautifully with the cold Manhattan air.
Maya stared in complete astonishment.
And then she noticed the picnic arrangement.
A large picnic mat rested beneath a transparent protective glass covering that shielded everything from the lingering moisture in the air. Inside were pastries of different varieties arranged beautifully beside cakes, fruits, chocolates, and drinks.
Maya blinked repeatedly.
Vanilla cake.
Red velvet cake.
Chocolate cake.
Her favorite candies.
Belgian chocolates.
Turkish chocolates.
Different varieties too.
Sliced apples.
Grapes.
Bananas.
A jar of apple juice.
And her favorite Oreo chocolate vanilla smoothie.
Everything there—
everything—
were things she had casually mentioned liking during their long phone calls.
Things she barely even remembered mentioning herself.
But Rege remembered.
All of it.
"Wow," Maya whispered softly, still sounding completely stunned.
Rege watched her carefully instead of the rooftop.
Watched the disbelief slowly soften into happiness across her face.
And suddenly every hour spent planning this felt worth it.
Maya stepped forward slowly, almost cautiously, as though afraid everything might disappear if she moved too fast.
Then she laughed softly beneath her breath.
Maya looked around again, completely overwhelmed.
"This is insane."
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
She slipped her feet out of her slippers absentmindedly before stepping directly onto the flower-covered flooring.
Then immediately froze again.
Her eyes widened.
"It's soft."
Rege watched her reaction quietly.
Beneath the flowers was a thick layer of soft padding and cotton designed to make the rooftop feel comfortable beneath bare feet.
Maya slowly pressed her feet down again experimentally before laughing softly.
"Oh my God."
She took another step.
Then another.
The flowers brushed gently against her skin while the hidden softness beneath them made the entire rooftop feel almost cloudlike.
Maya looked genuinely enchanted.
And Rege could not stop watching her.
"Did you buy the entire flower shop?" Maya asked incredulously while moving farther across the rooftop.
Her laughter drifted softly through the morning air afterward.
God.
That sound alone nearly ruined him.
Maya approached the rooftop edge carefully where roses decorated the protective glass wall overlooking Manhattan below.
The breeze lifted loose strands of her messy bun softly around her face.
Then suddenly—
she spread her arms wide dramatically like she was about to throw herself forward into the wind.
Rege reached her instantly.
One second she was laughing.
The next—
his arms were firmly around her waist.
Maya startled before immediately giggling.
"I'm not jumping," she laughed softly. "I'm just enjoying the breeze."
Rege chuckled quietly behind her.
The sound vibrated faintly against her skin because he was still so close.
Too close.
His arms remained around her waist securely while the wind moved around them both.
And before he could stop himself—
Rege lowered his face into the crook of her neck.
Maya's breath caught softly.
Everything inside her seemed to pause at once.
The warmth of his body behind hers.
His arms around her waist.
The feeling of his breath against her skin.
Goosebumps rose instantly along her arms and neck.
Her eyes fluttered closed unconsciously as she inhaled slowly.
Rege closed his eyes briefly too.
God.
She smelled incredible.
Warm vanilla.
Soft floral shampoo.
And something entirely Maya beneath it all.
His jaw clenched immediately afterward.
Because he liked it too much.
Far too much.
Maya slowly lowered her arms back down while trying very hard to remember how breathing worked.
A random thought entered her mind suddenly.
And maybe because she felt nervous—
or overwhelmed—
or dangerously aware of him—
she giggled softly.
"This feels like that iconic scene in Titanic."
Rege chuckled quietly against her neck again.
The vibration of it sent another wave of goosebumps across her skin.
Maya nearly melted.
And Rege noticed immediately.
Which only made his self-control strain harder.
He inhaled once more before finally forcing himself upright again.
Slowly.
Reluctantly.
His arms loosened from around her waist afterward, though the loss of her warmth felt immediate.
Unpleasant.
Maya missed him too the second he stepped back.
The absence startled her slightly.
She turned toward him slowly afterward.
And smiled.
Softly.
Brightly.
And Rege smiled back without even realizing he was doing it.
The expression completely mesmerized Maya.
Because Rege did not smile often.
Not fully.
Not openly.
But whenever he did, it felt devastatingly beautiful.
Like witnessing something rare.
Something private.
The wind moved softly around them while Manhattan stretched endlessly behind him.
And Maya genuinely thought he looked unreal standing there.
Dark hair slightly tousled from the breeze.
Hands relaxed beside him.
Aquamarine eyes fixed entirely on her.
Beautiful.
Dangerously beautiful.