Page 29 of The First Time

“I don’t see why we can’t make it there.”

Our car ride back is pretty silent, as we are exhausted from the day. Layla starts to nod off, and I get to spend some time watching her, thinking about our past. I wonder what would have happened between the two of us if I hadn’t let her ex get in my head.

Was he right? Is he still right? Or did I let my insecurities get the best of me all these years?

Our connection just feels too big to be wrong. I know I don’t make much money, not compared to what her father has provided for her all her life, but I could love her more than any bank account could.

I just want her to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. And I’m starting to wonder if I could make her happier than anyone. But I could never give her these lavish trips.

Fuck, I don’t know anymore. What I do know is that I want to make this trip everything she’s dreamed it to be. I look over at her, confident she is passed out now.

I pull my phone out and make a phone call to the front desk of our hotel. Thank goodness they speak fluent English; I can clearly tell them what I want to do, and Enzo confirms he can get it done.

As soon as we get back to the hotel, I nudge Layla awake. She is still half asleep as we make our way into our room, where she falls face-first onto the bed. I chuckle as I strip off my clothes and get under the sheets in my boxer briefs.

She’s clearly too exhausted to build her wall of pillows. Sleep doesn’t come quickly as I think about the surprise I have in store for her tomorrow.

Chapter Eleven

Layla

I’ve never felt so comfortable in my life. I wiggle around in the bed, enjoying the warmth the covers provide. I love mornings like this when you just wake up feeling cozy.

I hear a groan in my ear, and my muscles go rigid. I realize my entire body is warm because of the man I have climbed like a damn tree in the middle of the night.

My head is in the crook of his neck, his arms wrapped around me while our legs are tangled together like pretzels. Sometime in the middle of the night, I stripped down to my thong and tank top.

My right hand is on his chest. His naked chest. The man is only wearing boxers, and my thigh is basically resting over his slightly hard dick. Seriously, why have I seen his dick hard more times this week than I’ve seen of any man in the last three years? And it’s not like it’s led to me getting anything out of it. I’m still horny and unsatisfied.

Without permission from my brain, my hand runs across his chest, mixing with his chest hair. His arms squeeze me tighteras I hear him stir around. Crap. Why did you have to do that, you stupid hand?

I’m ready for him to jump off the bed and ask what the hell I’m doing.

“Morning,” he croaks out in a fog instead.

“Morning,” I whisper as I try to pull away, but he doesn’t let me.

“How did you sleep?” he asks, like it is completely normal to wake up like this.

“Umm, good. I mean, I’m sorry about this. I have no idea how we ended up like this.”

He chuckles, and I feel it vibrate through his chest. “Well, you hit the bed face first last night. You were too tired to build your pillow wall. And it looks like somewhere in the middle of the night, you lost your clothes.”

“I was exhausted last night.”

“It was a long day,” he says. “Are you feeling recovered enough for a surprise this morning?”

I lift my head off his shoulder, careful not to open my mouth too much and scare him away with my morning breath. “What do you mean a surprise?”

“Like, you want me to explain the definition of surprise, or you want me to repeat that I have a surprise for you?”

I glare at him. It’s too early for his sarcasm. “Don’t be a dick.”

He smiles. “Sorry. It just comes naturally. Come on, we need to get ready.”

He kisses my forehead and then gets out of bed. I don’t understand this new thing where he kisses my forehead like I’m his girlfriend. Mostly, I want to scream WHAT THE HELL DOES ALL OF THIS MEAN?

“How am I supposed to dress for this surprise?” I ask as he digs through his suitcase.

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