Page 30 of Unleashed

Slade followed suit, gingerly peeling off his boots and damp socks. His heel was a mess, just as I’d expected. The band-aid had slipped, and the blister was torn open, the skin soft and white from the moisture.

“Let me see,” I said, kneeling in front of him and gently lifting his foot by the ankle.

Slade winced but didn’t pull away. “It’s fine,” he mumbled.

“Fine, my ass.” I examined the raw skin, shaking my head. “You’re lucky it’s not infected. You should’ve said something earlier.”

He gave me a weak smile, leaning back in the chair. “Figured we had more important things to worry about.”

“Well, you’re off the trail tomorrow unless I patch this up.”

His eyes softened as I continued to tend to the blister, and for a moment, the rain outside seemed to fade into the background.

“I knew this would happen.” My voice was filled with frustration as I flipped over Slade’s boot, revealing the bunched-up band-aid. The one I had carefully placed earlier was now useless. I peeled it off and tossed it into the trash.

“What should I do with this?” Slade asked, leaning closer, his brows furrowed in mild concern.

“Let it air dry after you shower, and then I’ll bandage it again,” I said, rubbing my temples. “Hopefully, the rain will stop tomorrow.”

“And if it doesn’t?” His voice held a hint of playfulness, but I knew he was serious.

I met his gaze. “We’ll decide tomorrow. No point in stressing over it now. You want to shower first?”

He shook his head, a soft grin playing on his lips. “You go. I can wait.”

Relief washed over me. My muscles were sore, and the promise of hot water was too tempting to resist. “Thanks. I need it.”

The motel’s bathroom was small but pristine, everything coated in white—white tiles, white toilet, white sink, even the walls were white. The colorlessness only made my exhaustion feel sharper, like I could dissolve into the blankness. I stripped off my damp clothes, turned the shower on full blast, and let the steaming water rain down over my skin.

The heat was a balm, easing the tightness in my muscles. I took my time, shampooing my hair with the motel's complimentary vanilla-scented products, then soaped my body twice. The subtle scent of vanilla drifted through the steam as I wrapped myself in a thick towel. I was combing out the tangles in my hair when a knock startled me.

“Are you done? I’ve got a chill,” Slade’s voice called through the door.

Without thinking, I yanked it open—and froze. His eyes roamed over me, taking in my barely covered body, lingering on the curve of my hips, the slope of my chest. The air between us thickened, and I could feel the fire building inside me in response to the hunger I saw in his gaze. My pulse quickened.

“I’m done,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I hope you’re not getting sick.”

He didn’t move, just looked at me for a beat longer than necessary before answering. “I just need a hot shower, some food other than MREs, and a comfortable bed.” His eyes softened as he added, “Then I’ll be good to go tomorrow.”

I swallowed, suddenly aware of how close we were standing. “I hope so. I want to cover at least fifteen miles tomorrow, maybe twenty.”

Slade’s lips curved into a slow smile. “I’d be up for that. I’m enjoying my time with you.”

I averted my gaze, my heart thumping too hard in my chest. I couldn’t look at him like that—not when my body was betraying me. I turned toward the door. “Your turn,” I mumbled, stepping aside.

As he passed me, the warmth of his body radiated in the narrow space, and I was painfully aware of my own body’s reaction. I tightened the towel around myself and rushed out before he could say anything else.

By the time he came out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, I was dressed—barely keeping myself together. My eyes betrayed me though, darting to his broad shoulders, the muscles flexing as he dug through his pack. When he disappeared into the bathroom again, I exhaled, finally releasing the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. This trip was starting to mess with my head.

I was sitting on the bed, pretending to be engrossed in my phone when Slade emerged, fully dressed. The bed beneath me was so comfortable I could’ve sunk into it right then and fallen asleep.

“Are we getting dinner?” he asked, peeking out the window.

“Is it still raining?” I looked up, hoping for good news.

He sighed. “Pouring.”

“Great. Just great.” I rubbed my eyes in frustration. “I wonder if I can talk Sally into delivering to us.”

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