Chapter 3
Owen
MY ATTENTION KEEPS SLIPPING away from Zara’s descriptions of her design project, drawn instead to the man hiking several paces behind us.
I can feel Slade’s presence like a physical weight against my back.
My head still throbs from last night’s whiskey, but the pain pales compared to the burning embarrassment of what I did.
“—so the client wants something that pops, you know?” Zara’s bracelets jingle with each gesture as she speaks. “I was thinking if we focused on the navigation—”
“Makes sense,” I mumble, nodding at what I hope is an appropriate interval.
My gaze drifts to the forest floor, where sunlight dapples the dirt path through gaps in the canopy.
The greasy breakfast Slade forced on me is the only reason I’m functioning at all.
The thought of him—of how he took charge, how he set that plate in front of me and expected obedience—sends an unwelcome shiver down my spine.
“You’re not listening, are you?” Zara stops mid-sentence, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
“Sorry. Hangover.” It’s not a lie, but it isn’t the whole truth, either.
“I get it.” She pats my arm. “We’ve all been there. Though I have to say, you were really going for it at the bar last night.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “Was I that bad?”
“You weren’t sloppy, if that’s what you’re worried about. Just…determined. Like a man on a mission.”
A mission to forget Maia and Jace. I realize I haven’t thought about them once this morning, have paid no attention to them at breakfast, and am barely aware of them now.
It’s funny—last night I was so wound up about them it somehow led my straight-as-an-arrow self to kiss another man. A man who didn’t kiss me back. He hadn’t pushed me away, but he hadn’t responded either. Just let me make a complete fool of myself.
“The trail splits up,” Bryce calls from the front of our group. “Stay left for the lower route.”
We follow his direction, the path narrowing as it winds deeper into the woods. Zara slips ahead of me. Behind me, I hear Slade’s steady footsteps, each one sending a fresh jolt of awareness through my body.
“The waterfall should be just ahead,” Ava calls back to us. “Can you hear it?”
Now that she mentions it, I can—the distant rush of the stream grows louder with each step.
The forest trail widens again, opening into a clearing.
Sunlight breaks through the canopy, highlighting motes of dust suspended in the air.
The scent of pine gives way to the clean, mineral smell of the current.
“Oh wow,” Naya breathes as we round the final bend.
The waterfall reveals itself like something from a travel magazine—a cascade of clear water pouring over a rocky cliff face into a deep pool below. Sunlight catches in the spray, creating a fleeting rainbow. The pool itself is a perfect blue-green, ringed by smooth rocks and small patches of sand.
“It’s even better than the pictures,” Ava claps her hands together, turning to Bryce with a delighted smile. “You were right about this place.”
“The hike was worth it,” he agrees, pulling her close for a quick kiss. They look happy, connected in a way that reminds me of what I’ve never had.
“Everyone remember their swimsuits?” Ava asks, unzipping her backpack.
The group disperses around the pool, finding rocks and fallen logs to set their bags on. I move toward a flat boulder near the water’s edge, aware of Slade following in the same direction. When he sets his pack down just a few feet from mine, my heartbeat kicks up a notch.
“You feeling better?”
I risk a glance at him, immediately regretting it. The way the sunlight catches in his dark curls, how his t-shirt stretches across his broad shoulders—it’s all too much. Too confusing. Too appealing.
“Yeah. Thanks for breakfast.” I keep my voice neutral, though my insides are twisting.
“Good.” Just one word, but it carries weight.
I turn away, digging through my backpack for my swim trunks. Around us, the others are also changing. Zara and Naya have slipped behind some bushes. Maia and Jace are helping each other apply sunscreen. Bryce and Ava are already in their swimwear, testing the water with their toes.
“I’m going to…” I gesture toward a cluster of trees that might provide some privacy.
Slade nods, tugging his t-shirt over his head. I catch a glimpse of tanned skin stretched over defined muscle, a trail of dark hair disappearing beneath his waistband, before I force myself to look away.
Behind the trees, I change quickly, stuffing my clothes into my backpack and pulling on my swim trunks with jerky movements.
My mind races. I need to apologize to Slade.
Make sure he knows last night was just a drunk mistake.
Nothing to do with any latent desires or confusion about my sexuality.
Because I’m not confused. I like women. Always have.
So why can’t I stop thinking about how his body felt beneath mine?
When I return, most of the group is already in the water. Naya floats on her back, eyes closed in bliss. Zara sits on a rock, dipping her feet in. Maia and Jace are splashing each other like teenagers. Ava and Bryce have waded in deeper.
And Slade—Slade stands at the edge of the pool, water lapping at his ankles, watching me.
His swim trunks sit low on his hips, revealing the physique that comes from actual use, not only gym hours.
He has broad shoulders and a well-defined chest, tapering to a narrow waist. His entire body is strong and precise.
Our eyes lock, and for a moment, the rest of the group disappears. There’s just us and the strange, charged energy between us. Then he turns and dives into the pool, barely making a splash.
I follow more cautiously, stepping into the cool water inch by inch.
It feels amazing against my skin, washing away the sweat and dust from the hike.
I wade deeper until I’m chest-deep, then duck under, letting the water close over my head.
The world goes quiet and blue, my heartbeat loud in my ears.
When I surface, shaking water from my hair, Slade is nearby, treading water with effortless strength.
“There’s something behind the waterfall,” he says, pointing at the cascade. “Want to check it out?”
I hesitate, knowing this is the sort of situation I should avoid until I’ve gotten my head straight. But I find myself nodding.
“Sure.”
We swim toward the cascade, the roar growing louder as we approach. I can make out a dark space through it—some kind of recess in the rock face. Slade reaches it first, disappearing behind it. I follow, pushing through the cascading sheet.
The noise is deafening for a moment, a powerful torrent pounding against my shoulders, and then muted as I emerge on the other side.
I blink, taking in our surroundings. It’s a small alcove carved into the cliff face, big enough for maybe four people to stand.
The rock floor rises above the water level, creating a natural shelf.
Filtered light streams through the curtain of falling water, casting everything in a wavering, ethereal glow.
And there’s Slade, watching me with those intense dark eyes, droplets streaming down his chest.
“Cool, right?” he says, gesturing to our hidden sanctuary.
I nod, breathless. “How did you know this was here?”
“Bryce mentioned it when we were looking at the trail map. Said there might be a cave behind the fall.”
I move further in, placing a hand against the cold rock wall to steady myself.
The alcove is removed enough from the pool that the others can’t see us unless they swim right up to the waterfall, and the rush of water creates a blanket of white noise that makes our voices barely audible to each other, let alone anyone outside.
“So,” Slade says, leaning against the opposite wall. “How’s the hangover?”
“Better. Thanks again for the breakfast intervention.”
“You needed protein and fat. Best cure.”
“Med school?”
His mouth quirks. “Life. Teaches you about hangovers one way or another.”
Water drips from his curls, tracing a path down his jaw. I watch its progress, transfixed, before forcing my gaze away.
“Listen, about last night—”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“I do. I was drunk. And I…I’m sorry for falling into your bed and…” The words stick in my throat. “For kissing you. That was out of line.”
Slade studies me, his expression unreadable. “No harm done.”
“No harm—? Slade, I kissed you. A guy I barely know. A straight guy.” I rake a hand through my wet hair. “That’s pretty fucking harmful to my dignity, at least.”
“I didn’t mind.” His voice drops lower, the words almost lost beneath the roar of the waterfall.
I stare at him. “What?”
“I said, I didn’t mind.” He pushes off from the wall, moving closer. “In fact, I enjoyed it.”
The air between us shifts, grows heavy. My heart hammers against my ribs so hard I’m sure he can hear it even over the surrounding noise.
“You—” I swallow. “You didn’t kiss me back.”
“You were drunk, Owen.” He says my name with a precision that sends a shiver through me. “I don’t take advantage of drunk people.”
“So if I had been sober…”
“If you had been sober.” He moves closer still until I can feel the heat radiating from his body. “I would have kissed you back.”
My brain short-circuits. This can’t be happening. Slade is straight. I’m straight. This isn’t—we aren’t—
His hand comes up, fingers gripping my chin with gentle firmness, tilting my face up toward his. “You’re not drunk now.”
It’s not a question, but I shake my head anyway, as much as his grip allows. “No.”
“Good.”
Then his mouth is on mine, and every single one of my thoughts scatters.
His lips are firm, insistent, nothing like the passive reception of my clumsy drunk kiss.
This is deliberate. Claiming. His free hand slides around to the small of my back, pulling me closer until our chests press together, skin to skin.