Page 109 of Unleashed

“Take the day off,” he suggested gently. “We can talk tonight.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated, my voice barely audible.

“Stop apologizing,” Slade said firmly but kindly. He leaned over and pressed a tender kiss to my forehead before slipping out of bed to take a shower.

I nestled back under the covers, caught between sleep and wakefulness. The gentle sound of running water from the bathroom was soothing, and I drifted in and out of a restless slumber. When Slade returned, I felt his warm lips brush against my cheek, accompanied by the faint scent of his cologne and the scratch of his stubble.

“Love you,” he whispered, his voice a comforting murmur in the dim light.

“I love you, too,” I mumbled, barely able to keep my eyes open.

I fell back into a deep sleep and didn’t stir until the sun was high in the sky. Its rays streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the wooden floor of my bedroom. I reached for my phone on the nightstand, my hand trembling slightly.

Two texts from Slade awaited me, but nothing from Michael. A pang of disappointment struck me. I wasn’t even sure if he remembered my number—or if he ever would. It didn’t matter, though. Slade was right; I was with someone else. Yet, a nagging thought lingered in the back of my mind: Did Slade win by default, or was it something more?

“How are you feeling?”Slade’s voice was warm and concerned over the phone.

“Better,” I replied, my voice still a little groggy. “My head doesn’t hurt as much.”

“Do you want me to come over after work?” he asked, a hopeful tone in his voice.

“Do you mind if you don’t?” I hesitated, feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling me down. “I’m really tired.”

“I guess,” Slade said, his disappointment evident. “I really wanted to see you.”

“Please, Slade?” I pleaded softly.

I wasn’t in the mood to talk or reveal why I indulged so heavily in alcohol. Whatever I told him, it would be a lie. Our argument wasn’t the reason, Michael was.

He chuckled. “Okay, I’ll call you when I get home from work.”

“Thank you,” I said, genuinely grateful.

After we hung up, I dragged myself out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom, dressed only in my panties. A long, steamy shower worked wonders, and I emerged feeling somewhat revived. I was padding around my apartment in a short pink robe when there was a knock at the door. Slade was on his lunch break, so I didn’t bother checking the peephole.

“Did you forget your key again?” I called out, pulling open the door with a casual flick. But the sight of Michael standing there, freshly shaven with his hair neatly cut, stopped me in my tracks. I suddenly felt acutely aware of my state—naked underneath the thin satin of my robe.

“If I had a key, I wouldn’t be knocking,” Michael said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“M… Michael,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over me before he waited for me to close the door. I tightened the sash of my robe, feeling exposed under his intense scrutiny.

“Miss Kincaid,” he said, his tone teasing, “making it tighter won’t change the fact that you’re naked underneath. Am I right?”

My cheeks flushed crimson. “Obviously. I don’t usually wear a robe over my clothes.”

He sighed, the sound heavy with regret. “I should go.”

“Why?” I asked, my curiosity piqued. “You’re here and clearly have something to say.”

“Why?” Michael echoed, his voice low and tortured. “Because for the past two months, all I’ve thought about is making love to you.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. The room seemed to spin, and I sank onto the couch, struggling to catch my breath.

“You can’t just show up and say things like that,” I stammered. “I’m engaged.”

“I know,” Michael said, anguish etched in his features. “And it tears me apart.”

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