Chapter 123: The Sweetest Rivalry
Chapter 123: The Sweetest Rivalry
Vivian’s POV"You know, it’s not like I’m ungrateful or anything, but when you said ’date,’ I imagined dinner maybe a drive with some cheesy car games not walking for miles," I grumbled under my breath.
We strolled through a quiet neighborhood that looked like it belonged straight out of a movie. Little boutique shops lined the cobblestone sidewalks, kids squealed as they ran through a nearby park, and fairy lights already twinkled between the trees even though the sun was still dipping lazily toward the horizon. The entire scene felt almost too perfect, like a painting brought to life.
Zaliver just chuckled, throwing a heavy arm around my shoulders and pressing a warm kiss to the top of my head. I scowled down at the sidewalk while his amusement vibrated through me through our bond.
"Patience," he said, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "I thought you’d like to see this place up close on foot."
"You could’ve parked closer," I muttered. "I can see just fine from the passenger seat, thank you very much."
He laughed loudly a deep, rich rumble that drew a few glances and fond smiles from nearby strangers. I felt the sudden shift of his weight as he leaned heavily into me, thoroughly amused.
"Damn giant," I mumbled, rolling my eyes. That only made him laugh harder.
Eventually, we stopped in front of a cozy small bakery tucked neatly between two antique shops. I blinked up at the hand-painted sign in confusion. This definitely wasn’t a standard dinner spot.
He opened the door for me, and we stepped inside. The soft, heavenly scent of vanilla, baked goods, and cinnamon filled the air instantly. The interior was cozy and painted in warm pastel shades soft pink and lilac with delicate floral stencils edging the high walls. Tables were arranged all over the room, each fully equipped with mixing bowls, measuring cups, and detailed recipe cards.
I counted about ten couples, all of whom paused what they were doing to look up at us. Well, mostly at me.
I shifted uncomfortably under the sudden scrutiny until I felt Zaliver’s large hand land firmly on my shoulder.
"Don’t mind us," he said smoothly, and despite how casual he sounded, there was an undeniable Alpha command layered subtly beneath his tone.
Everyone quickly looked away and turned back to their own stations. Zaliver led me to a private table in the corner and handed me an apron. I eyed the chalk sign on the wall behind him: