Pay Back (The Ferrari Family Book 3) by Hazel Parker

Author:Hazel Parker [Parker, Hazel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-08-19T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12: Pierre

I hadn’t worked out the day before because I didn’t have energy, but I was pretty sure after the way Layla had just drained me, if I’d had to so much as jog on the treadmill, my legs would have wobbled and collapsed underneath me.

As it was, just getting out of the shower was an entire ordeal. Layla seemed to have the opposite “problem”—she jumped out of the shower like I had just injected her body with the elixir of caffeine, and she handed me my mimosa while I still stood in the shower, just trying to regain the energy to walk back and get dressed.

“Boy, I haven’t felt that kind of passion in ages,” she said. “You are something else, Pierre.”

“I try,” I said with a tired smirk, but it was the good kind of tired, like a fatigue I had earned. “Let me have a moment.”

“Of course,” she said, though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sense that there was some concern in her voice. I could not blame her—it was not like the previous five years of justified disgust had vanished with a good night and morning of sexual pleasure.

I sipped on my mimosa in silence, thankful that I had this opportunity. But I reminded myself there was much to learn and much to unveil, and it made no sense to project ahead until a clearer future was established.

Eventually, I got out of the shower, finished my mimosa, and put on clothes. Layla put on jeans and a t-shirt.

“Are you not planning on going out after?” I asked.

“Are you planning on leaving this room?” she said with a chuckle, making a point to eye me up and down to my nakedness. “You have to put on something!”

“What, are you saying it would be unbecoming of a gentleman to go to breakfast in the nude?”

“If I need to say it, then I think maybe you need to experience it so you can learn the hard way.”

“The hard way, eh?”

Layla burst out laughing. I suspected she did not think I was capable of making the occasional juvenile joke.

“Just throw something on, we’ll figure it out after.”

I grabbed some jeans and a tight-fitting button down. We left the room holding hands, almost without even intending to, but when our hands bumped together, it just felt like something that was supposed to happen.

It being Saturday, the breakfast had turned into a buffet, and so we went our separate ways to get our food. She went for the typical American fare—sausage, bacon, and eggs—while I preferred something a little lighter, especially on buffet days. I had no problems with the taste of American food, but in unlimited quantities, it was not hard to see how many Americans struggled with portion control.

I sat down first, but Layla was not far behind me. When she sat down, I noticed that she looked like she had something on the tip of her tongue, as if she was searching for the right words.

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