Page 27 of Clean Slade
“Bullsh…sushi. You don’t look a day over twenty-five.” Slade bit his lip, and I choked down a laugh.
Did he really think I looked that young? If only. Maybe if I was, I’d have a backup plan, and I wouldn’t be in this position, hiding from my father like a coward.
Although I’d take coward over dead any day of the week.
“Thank you. I think I’ll keep you.” I smiled and wished I hadn’t said that because the look he gave me, all longing and needy, did things to my tummy and farther south that I couldn’t even begin to explore. “Also…bullsushi?”
He shrugged.
“It’s a new thing. Are you telling me you’ve never tried it?” He smirked.
Stop smirking at me. Stop smiling at me. Stop staring at me.
I don’t know what I might do if you don’t.
But I couldn’t tell him that, could I? Not without admitting he’d been living rent-free in my head and in my dreams for a decade and that being so close to him after all this time only made those feelings stronger.
Slade brought out the Connect 4 set and showed Mac how to play, and I watched them, trying not to laugh my ass off with how hopeless he pretended to be against Mac.
It was almost hypnotizing being in this warm yurt, with my daughter and the man of my dreams playing board games, their entertaining chatter a lullaby.
We were safe. I didn’t know what might happen next, but for now, we were safe. Thanks to him.
“I can’t believe you lost four to one, Slade. You’re such a looser!” Mac giggled.
“Shhh, keep it down,” he whispered as I opened my eyes and saw him packing away the chips.
“Hey,” I said.
“Sorry. Did we wake you?”
I grimaced.
“What do you mean? Why are you putting away the game? I thought you were playing.”
Slade opened his mouth, but it was Mac who spoke up.
“We’ve already played five games, Daddy. Did you not see me kick Slade’s butt?”
“Language, missy. And…no. Did I fall asleep?”
Slade nodded. “We tried to keep it down—”
“It’s okay. It was your chatting that put me to sleep in the first place, I think.”
“Are you trying to say we’re boring?” He raised an eyebrow, and Mac copied him.
“Me? No. Never!”
I sat up, and a blanket dropped down to my lap.
Had Slade covered me up? Oh, why would he do that? There was only so much resisting a boy could do.
“Would you like some coffee?” he asked, putting the board game under the coffee table.
“It’s okay. I can make it.”
“Let me. You’ve just woken up, and from the looks of it, you got some deep sleep. I’ll take care of it. How do you take it?” He grabbed the blanket from my lap and folded it while I tried very hard to not let my breathing betray how hot and fuzzy I felt inside since “rough and hard” wasnotthe answer he was looking for.
