Faked - Karla Sorensen Page 0,21

I hit the speaker button. "Who is it?"

"Let me up, princess."

"Shit, eff, dammit," I mumbled. I cleared my throat and pressed the button again. "I'm sorry, who is this? Lia is gone if you're looking for her."

I pinched my eyes shut at how utterly ridiculous I sounded. He called me out right before I fled. Like a coward.

"Princess," he replied patiently, the smile evident in his voice. "Let me up, please. I need to talk to you about something."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Trust me, it's a great idea."

I rolled my eyes but hit the buzzer. The faster he came up, the faster he could leave.

The faster he left, the faster I could put this entire evening behind me and pretend it had never happened.

His heavy footsteps approached the door, and I pulled it open, one hand perched on my hip. "Say what you need to say and go."

Bauer slowed to a stop, his fathomless eyes tracking from the top of my messy bun, across my sleep clothes, and stopped at my naked toes. A grin covered his face when he met my gaze. "This is the real you, isn't it?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "What do you need, Bauer?"

He didn't answer right away, which allowed me some studying time of my own. His jacket was gone, as was the tie he'd been wearing. The white shirt was unbuttoned, just at the top, and there was another line of ink under the notch of his throat. Honestly, what was he trying to compensate for with that many tattoos?

"May I please come in?" He held up his hands. "It'll take me five minutes."

"You have three."

"Ouch." When I pulled the door open and moved to the side to let him in, he grinned down at me when he passed. "You know, you're a lot nicer to me when you’re pretending to be Lia."

I shut the door with a frustrated huff, briefly leaning my forehead against the cold surface before I turned to face him.

"I'm sorry," I told him. "I shouldn't be taking my frustrations out on you. It was stupid to even try to pull it off."

He was studying the small family room.

It was a small apartment, as most were for students like Lia and me. But Logan refused to let us live somewhere without a secure entrance or seventy-five locks on the apartment door. Our décor was eclectic because while Lia's taste was obvious in the teal, pink, and yellow pillows, and the colorful throw rug, I'd picked the neutral couch and the tasteful prints hanging on the wall.

My face burned when he picked up the small plush kitten sitting on the arm of the couch. I'd always wanted a cat, but I'd yet to get Lia to cave. Watching Bauer study the stuffed animal, I felt invaded by his presence.

With a smile, he set the cat back down.

The lighting was dim because I liked it that way when I was home alone, so only two table lamps illuminated the room. Because of that, when Bauer finally faced me, hands tucked into his pants pockets again, it cast shadows under his cheekbones. He looked dark and terrifying even though his lips were still smiling in my direction.

His head tilted. "Why are you talking as if you didn't pull it off?"

"You knew," I explained. "Eventually, at least."

"Right away, actually."

That had my mouth falling open slightly. "Seriously?"

He leaned in to study the framed pictures on the bookcase next to him, candid shots of me and my three sisters. "Seriously. Lia wouldn't have been so shaken by it."

Great. The unflappable Lia. A girl always loved to be called The One Who Was Shook.

"I don't mean that in a negative way, princess."

"Can you stop calling me that?" I asked wearily.

Bauer took a few steps toward me, and I had to fight every instinct to back away.

"Even in those pajamas," he murmured. "You've got that look to you. I can't help it."

"Spoken like a true man. I can't help it," I mimicked his deep voice.

He tipped his head back and laughed deeply.

That laugh made me unaccountably nervous, and I couldn't pinpoint why. Maybe because I didn't want to make Bauer Davis laugh. I didn't want to have him in my apartment, looking slightly rumpled and more casual than he had earlier when he picked me up.

"What do you want, Bauer?" I asked.

His eyes warmed slightly at my use of his name. I didn't want that either.

He scratched the side of his scruff-covered face. "Right now, I want