When Antonio had rung the doorbell, Gerald had to carry me to his room. My body was too weak to stand. Gerald had given me countless orgasms with his fingers and tongue. He laid me on his bed and pulled the cover over me.
He left the room and returned some time later with a tray of food. The food smelled amazing.
“Able to sit up?” Gerald smirked at me and stood at the side of the bed with the tray.
“Barely,” I laughed. I forced myself up into a sitting position and scooted over so Gerald would have room to sit down.
“Thanks,” Gerald said, sitting down next to me.
The tray had two plates filled with pasta. There was a bowl of rolls, two tall glasses filled with water, silverware, and napkins. Everything looked fancy; even the tall glassware.
“This is pretty fancy,” I whispered, taking in everything.
“Did I go overboard with what I asked Antonio to cook?” Gerald asked, frowning at the tray.
“No, not at all,” I blurted. He gave me the side-eye. “Just caught me off guard with how nice everything looks.”
He placed the tray on our laps. Half on my lap, half on his.
“You sure?” he asked, leaning his head back against the headboard. He looked disappointed.
“Gerald?” I said softly. He looked over at me. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. It just caught me off guard with how nice everything is. I’m not used to stuff like this.”
He looked at me for what seemed like forever. Finally, his facial expression finally softened.
“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I didn’t think of that before I took it personally. To me this isn’t anything new…” His words trailed to a whisper and died off.
“Yeah, my family isn’t rich. Far from it. My parents have worked at a hatchery since they were teenagers, for crying out loud,” I chuckled nervously.
It was really embarrassing admitting that my family was poor. The only reason I had decent clothes and no longer wore hand me downs was because I got a job waitressing at a bar in a neighboring town. My parents were furious; however, if it meant I’d help out with bills and buy my own stuff, they were all for me working. Even if I was underage and surrounded by a bunch ofhooligansas my mother called them.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” Gerald gave me a sympathetic smile. I shrugged and looked away from him. “How about we eat and then we can talk and get to know each other? Sound good?”
“Sounds great,” I said, facing him and forcing a smile.
I realized in that moment that I was foolish to even be in Gerald’s apartment. We were from two different worlds. He was rich and I was a poor girl from a small ass town in the middle of nowhere.
Eat and get the hell out of dodge, Kaylee.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Gerald wasn’t happy with me, but I took the tray into the kitchen when we were finished eating. He followed behind me complaining, trying to take the tray from me.
“You aren’t winning this one,” I laughed and set the tray down on the counter. “Just so you know, I’m the best dishwasher on the planet.”
“Oh. Is that so?” Gerald asked, walking up behind me and wrapping his arms around me. I sucked in a sharp breath.
“Mmhmm,” I replied. I didn’t trust myself to say anything else.
“Well, I have a maid who comes every morning to--”
I turned in his arms, looked up at him, and glared.
“What?” he asked with a slight chuckle.
“Why do you have a maid?” I groaned. It wasn’t any of my business, but I never understood why rich people felt the need to have other people tend to their every need.
“Should I not have a maid?” Gerald’s eyebrow raised.
