“I think I do.” I went to move, but Taylor held me tight, keeping me in place.
“I love you,” he said. “I hope you know that. I love you more than anything in the world. In the entire fucking universe. Happy anniversary.”
“I love you too.” I kissed him gently. “I can’t believe I’ve put up with you for a whole year.”
“Oi! I’m fucking adorable.”
“Yeah, you are. And I love you so fucking much. I’m so lucky.”
“Not as lucky as I am,” Taylor said.
We kissed for a little while before I eventually extracted myself from his grip to go and shower. It took me a while to figure out the new controls, but I was pleasantly surprised by how good the water pressure was. It was definitely better than the shower in the old flat.
When I got back to the bedroom, Taylor was lying on his stomach, his perfect ass on display as he thumbed through his phone.
“Anything interesting?” I asked, grabbing my joggers from earlier in case I had to wander around the flat to find the box of sheets. I couldn’t remember if the curtains in the living room were closed, and I didn’t want to show the whole of Parson’s Green my junk.
“Not really.” Taylor rolled onto his back, eyes raking over me. “I posted those photos on the blog and then got a message from Connor wishing us a happy anniversary. He and Patrick are looking forward to coming to see us in a couple of weeks. They booked an Airbnb.”
“I’m glad they got it figured out. They’re cute together.” I shifted a couple of boxes, reading the labels scrawled on the top of them. “How did the photos go down?”
“Well, you have over a hundred notes in like, five minutes, so, I’d say good.” Taylor smirked and stretched lazily, momentarily distracting me. Then he climbed off the bed and sauntered towards me. “They’re all jealous because you’re all mine.”
I bent down and kissed him. “All yours.”
Two weeks later, I stumbled into the flat, soaked to the skin from my walk home in the freezing rain and gale force winds that were the UK in late November. Trust my umbrella to break on the one day I actually needed it. Not that it would have been much use in the wind.
The flat was warm, and the lamps were on, which was odd because I’d thought Taylor was supposed to be in his office this afternoon. His new job had taken off over the past year, and the company he and Aiden had founded had become a roaring success. Taylor spent most of his days in their small office, but he occasionally worked from home, spreading himself over the dining room table and leaving a trail of dirty mugs and biscuit crumbs in his wake.
“Babe? You home?” I called as I dumped my bag and hung my sodden coat on the little row of pegs I’d put up. I turned into our bedroom, pulling off my jumper as I moved. I was wet through and everything seemed to be sticking to me.
I dumped my jumper and began unbuttoning my shirt when I noticed a large, glossy black box in the middle of our bed. I frowned. I hadn’t ordered anything like that. And all Taylor’s Christmas presents were being sent to my office so he didn’t accidentally open them.
There was a little pink card tucked neatly into a slot on the lid with pretty, curled lettering on it in handwriting I didn’t recognise. It just said: Open Me.
Was it for me? Was I supposed to open it?
I stared at it, my hands frozen.
From behind me, I heard footsteps padding along the carpet. “You can open it you know,” Taylor said, his voice soft. “It’s for you.”
“Oh… what’s the occasion?”
“Do I need an occasion to spoil you? Call it a very early Christmas present. Or a late anniversary one.”
I shot him a look over my shoulder. Taylor just shrugged and smiled. Then he frowned, tilting his head as he looked at me. “You’re soaked?”
“If you hadn’t noticed, it’s pissing it down.” I chuckled.
“Shit. I hadn’t. I had headphones in. Do you want to get changed first?”
“Yeah,” I said, automatically resuming stripping off without taking my eyes off the box. “Are you going to tell me what’s in there?”
“That kinda defeats the purpose of a surprise, babe.” Taylor leant against the door frame, watching as I dumped my sodden clothes in the washing basket and grabbed a comfy t-shirt, a hoodie, and a pair of grey jogging bottoms. I may have chosen the joggers deliberately since I’d peeled off my boxers and hadn’t bothered putting clean ones on. I couldn’t resist teasing Taylor.
I still had no idea what was in the box, although thinking about it logically, I could probably make a fair guess. Large luxury box, in our bedroom, at a time when it was just the two of us? My money was definitely on lingerie or sex toys. Maybe both.
I glanced at Taylor who was still watching me, his expression strangely neutral. Like he was desperately trying to keep a straight face.
Reaching for the box, I gently slipped the lid off, placing it on the bed. Underneath were layers of tissue paper, neatly folded and sealed with the sticker of a brand I didn’t recognise. Carefully, I peeled the sticker open, unfolding the tissue. There was a gentle waft of a sweet, floral scent as if the tissue paper had been sprayed with perfume. Taylor really had gone all out.
I gasped as I opened the tissue, my voice and breath frozen in my throat.
The box was filled with beautiful lingerie—a pale pink corset garter, stockings, and several pairs of satin and lace panties. But it was what was tucked in the middle of them that shook me most.
A
