The sun was high, and the hospital corridors buzzed with activity. Jay had just finished her last patient for the morning, mentally exhausted, her hands still warm from comforting her patients. She was about to head to the staff lounge when her phone buzzed.
"Get ready. I'm taking you out. Now. Fiancée."
Her cheeks immediately heated. She groaned. "Of course he is…"
Outside, Keifer was waiting in his sleek car, arms crossed, the picture of calm authority—but with that playful glint in his eyes that made her knees weak.
"Keifer! I just finished my rounds, I—"
"Fiancée," he interrupted, flashing that smirk that made her heart race, "you're coming with me. No arguments. I have something in mind for your hard work today."
Jay tried to protest, but a quick glance at his impossibly serious expression told her it was useless. She climbed into the car with a huff.
The car ride was silent for a few moments, except for the soft hum of the engine. Then he leaned closer, brushing his shoulder against hers.
"You look exhausted," he said smoothly, "but adorable. Of course, I plan to fix that."
Jay rolled her eyes, but she felt herself smiling. "And how exactly do you plan to fix it?"
"You'll see," he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes.
Ten minutes later, they arrived at a small, cozy ice cream parlor. Keifer opened the door for her with that over-the-top flourish, making her laugh despite herself.
"After all," he said, sweeping an arm toward the parlor, "my fiancée deserves the finest ice creams in the city."
Jay laughed, shaking her head. "You really are dramatic."
"I prefer charming," he corrected, tugging her gently toward a table by the window.
Keifer ordered two extravagant sundaes, topped with chocolate drizzle, whipped cream, and fresh strawberries. He slid one toward her with a flourish.
"Fiancée," he said, eyes sparkling, "dig in. You've earned it."
Jay couldn't help but grin. "You really do spoil me, you know that?"
"And you love it," he teased, leaning back in his chair with that smug expression she hated—and secretly adored.
Jay rolled her eyes, scooping a spoonful of ice cream. "Maybe a little," she admitted, cheeks turning pink.
Keifer smirked, leaning just close enough that their arms brushed as he reached for his sundae. "A little," he echoed, voice low, "but don't worry. That blush suits you."
Jay's heart skipped, and she pretended to concentrate on her ice cream. But every so often, she caught him watching her, that subtle teasing glint in his eyes making her flustered all over again.
"Keifer," she said finally, trying to act stern, "stop staring at me like that."
He leaned forward, resting a hand lightly on the table near hers. "Stop pretending you don't like it," he said softly. "My fiancée, flustered by me… I could get used to this."
Jay's cheeks burned hotter, but a small, defiant smile appeared. "I'm not flustered," she said, though her voice wavered.
"Sure you're not," he teased, picking up a small bite of ice cream and deliberately dangling it near her lips. "Here, fiancée… taste test."
Jay squealed and swatted his hand lightly, laughing. "Keifer! You're impossible!"
"And yet," he said smoothly, finally taking a bite himself, "you keep smiling at me. Admit it—you love it."
Jay groaned, leaning back in her chair, but the smile on her face betrayed her. "Maybe… a little."
Keifer's smirk widened, eyes gleaming triumphantly. "Good. That's all I need to hear, fiancée. Just a little… for now."
By the time they left the parlor, Jay was sticky with melted ice cream, laughing uncontrollably, and completely flustered. Keifer had teased her the entire time—brushes of hands, playful whispers, and "fiancée" said far too many times for her nerves—but she couldn't deny it had been perfect.
And Keifer? He was grinning like a kid, knowing he had successfully made his fiancée blush, giggle, and—most importantly—utterly his.