Page 44 of Unleashed

"Nice place," I said, taking in the sprawling outdoor patio.

"Very," Slade replied with a hint of pride. "We even have an outdoor bathroom with a shower around the corner."

I smirked, adjusting my sunglasses. "I guess the executives weren’t exaggerating about this being a lovely retreat."

"Fucking freeloaders," Slade mumbled under his breath.

"Excuse me?" I shot him a sharp look.

"Nothing," he said quickly, but his jaw clenched.

"Did you just call them freeloaders?" I pressed, not letting it go.

Slade sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. "They eat like pigs, drink like fish, and kiss up to my father like he’s some kind of god. It’s obnoxious. I don’t plan on attending this year’s retreat."

I raised an eyebrow. "So, you’re saying I dodged a bullet?"

He gave me a rueful smile. "The more I think about it, the more I believe you made the right move, even though I hate it. I hate that I won’t see you every day."

I reached up and cupped his scruffy face, letting my thumb graze his jawline before pulling back. "Play your cards right, and you might see me every day."

Slade's eyes softened, and he took my hand, kissing my knuckles gently. "I really want this to work between us," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

He pulled out a tube of sunscreen, holding it up. "Your skin’s fair. You need to protect it."

I rolled my eyes but handed him the tube, letting him rub it onto my shoulders and back. His hands moved slowly, deliberately, until he reached my inner thighs. He lingered there, his fingers brushing higher until he pressed teasingly against me.

"You’re ready for more?" His voice was low, and a wicked grin tugged at his lips.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "I think I always will be when it comes to you. I love you... and I’m sorry if that makes you feel weird, but it’s the truth."

Slade's playful expression faltered, the corners of his mouth turning down slightly. "It only makes me feel weird because I can’t say it back," he admitted, his gaze dropping.

A pang of regret twisted in my chest. I wished I hadn’t said anything. "I hope one day you will," I whispered, but the moment felt heavy, his silence more telling than anything else.

Slade put on his sunglasses and leaned back on his lounger, retreating into himself. I felt his absence the second his touch left me. I watched him for a moment, his chest rising and falling steadily as he closed his eyes, signaling that the conversation was over.

After a long, tense silence, my stomach growled audibly. "What do you have to eat around here?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Slade removed his sunglasses and glanced over at me, his chest gleaming with suntan oil. "Plenty. The fridge is full. Help yourself."

His curt response stung, but I figured my own words had done more damage. Without pushing the issue further, I got up from the lounger and stepped inside the cool interior of the house, the heavy slider shutting behind me with a quiet thud.

I made my way to the fridge and, sure enough, it was fully stocked. Deciding to extend an olive branch, I gathered what I could to put together a small platter: chunks of cheddar, Swiss, and gruyere, slices of aged salami, and a bowl of grapes and strawberries. I even found some crackers and a bottle of white wine.

Balancing the tray, I slid the door open and carried it outside, praying I wouldn’t drop anything. "Baby, are you hungry?" I asked, hoping the playful endearment might soften the tension between us.

"Not particularly," he muttered, not even looking at me.

Determined to change his mood, I set the tray at the foot of my lounger and knelt. "Are you sure? I brought wine." I began fumbling with the corkscrew, the silence between us growing more oppressive by the second.

Slade glanced over, finally showing some interest. "I’ll do it," he said, sitting up and reaching for the bottle.

I handed it to him with a small smile. "So, you are hungry."

"I guess," he grumbled.

I hesitated before speaking again. "Slade, please don’t be angry."

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