Page 10 of The First Time

“You know I can’t afford that,” I grind out, a blanket of disgrace washes over me.

“Well,” she turns to Milana, “it looks like we are keeping our original room.”

Milana nods, looking uncomfortable at our exchange. She must feel the tension between Layla and me. She makes quick work of getting us checked in.

I stand behind Layla as she holds the keycard in front of our door. As soon as we walk into the room, my breath catches in my throat.

There is no way this is our room. To say it is big is an understatement. The large king-sized bed looks luxurious with its white comforter and large pillows. The room has polished hardwood flooring, which extends to the sitting area with deep blue couches next to the windows.

Speaking of windows, they are floor-to-ceiling windows with French doors that open up to a white limestone terrace overlooking the lake and mountains.

“Holy shit,” Layla whispers.

She drops her luggage on the floor by the bed and then walks straight to the doors. When they open, the wind blows around her as she walks out to the terrace. I follow her out. We both lean against the white stone railing.

“It’s beautiful,” she says as she looks out at the view.

“It is,” I agree. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“The water,” we both say together.

She smiles, and I can’t help but do the same. “It’s so clear,” I add, struck by the sight.

“Josh, look!”

I turn around and she’s standing next to a hot tub. Layla next to a hot tub, the two of us alone. My brain is conjuring up a bunch of inappropriate images that I try to push aside so I don’t spoil the mood.

“Shit, I think we’re getting in there all week. I can’t believe we have our own private terrace with a hot tub. This is insane.”

“This place is like a dream,” she says with a bright smile.

Relief floods me as I watch the joy radiating from her. Thank God I was able to make this trip, so she didn’t have to cancel. I’ve watched her work her ass off for years. She deserves this vacation. She needs this vacation.

“What do you want to do first?” I ask as I glance down at my watch. “It’s a little passed five right now.”

I rub the back of my neck, trying to ignore the tension there. I’m still exhausted from the travel.

“What time is it back home?” she asks.

“Lunch time.”

Her eyes bug out. “That’s it? Why am I so tired?”

“We just traveled for like fifteen hours. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t get good sleep last night, nor do I sleep well on planes.”

“Ugh, same. What do you think about ordering room service and getting a good night’s sleep?”

“I think that’s the best idea I’ve ever heard. We could eat out here on the terrace.”

We find a menu on the table near the couches. I make a call to the front desk and order us our food and a bottle of wine while Layla gets in the shower.

I’m sitting on my cell phone, trying to connect to the hotel Wi-Fi, when I hear the bathroom door open.

I look up, and every muscle in my body tightens.

“What are you wearing?” I growl, trying to compose myself.

She glances down at herself and then shrugs. “I know. I thought it was just me and Charlotte. Or that I was at least going to have the potential to bring back some hot Italian guy. These pajamas are all I have, and after the long day of travel, I just want to be comfy.”

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