Faked - Karla Sorensen Page 0,57

bottling the highest high. This was a decision for me. About me.

And Bauer.

The look on his face when I told him I didn't hear the plows still brought a giddy grin to my face. How no one had uncovered that heart of his buried underneath the façade blew my mind.

I wanted to know more. I wanted to see more. Hear more. Touch more.

And so did he, even if he wasn't ready to admit it.

The sound of running water made me smile for a different reason, the heated look he'd given me when we swapped places in the bathroom. He and I decided to shower separately from a purely logistical standpoint—Scotty's shower was tiny.

It was while I was towel-drying my hair and he was taking his turn to warm up that I fought against the thoughts of what would happen when we got back to the real world.

Bauer lived a very different life than I did, and he lived it a few hours away from where my own life was anchored—where my school and family and friends were.

Under normal circumstances, I would've ignored every gut instinct telling me that this man was worth a risky leap and convinced myself that I was better off not even allowing one kiss to tempt me.

The water turned off in the bathroom, and I felt a shiver go through my body, thinking about him naked, wet and just ... naked. I couldn't stop the ridiculous grin that spread over my face because this feeling was so incredibly delicious, so addicting, I could understand why people chased it with two grasping hands once they knew it existed.

I knew why my sister Molly had risked her job to be with Noah when they had every reason to stay away from each other. Sure, it turned out well for them, but at the time, it mystified me a bit that she'd have knowingly broken the rules to be with him.

Bauer came out of the tiny room with a white towel wrapped around his trim waist and a dangerous glint in his eye.

"You're gonna get cold," I said, pointing at his towel.

"I have someone to warm me up now."

"Agnes wouldn't warm you up if you were dying of hypothermia in front of her."

He laughed, leaning over me to drop a kiss on the top of my head. "True. But she's getting used to me."

"She's not actively hating you," I amended. "Let's not get carried away."

"Thoughts on dinner?" Bauer asked, opening the bare fridge and frowning at what he found.

I stood and approached him, wrapping my arms around his waist, kissing between his shoulder blades while my hands smoothed over the damp skin of his abs. "We'll have to get creative. It'll be a sad picnic, but if you're willing to split the last freezer meal, we'll have enough."

Which was what we did, and after Bauer dragged the mattress down the steps, shoved the couch backward to make room, and laid it on the floor in front of the fire, we decided that for our last night, we'd spend as much time as possible in that bed, including eat dinner there.

With the fire roaring happily, cracking and popping with the firewood that Scotty had wisely stored up, Bauer held up the last bite of a truly bland Salisbury steak frozen meal, and I ate it off the fork.

"Delicious," I mumbled.

He chuckled and moved the plate off the bed, turning on his side to watch me. So far, we'd kept clothes on during mealtime, which was almost necessary, given our condom-less state.

But the way he was looking at me, I felt my internal temperature slowly tick, tick, tick upward. One small degree at a time.

"I never go to Seattle because it sucks staying in that house," he said quietly.

Carefully, I lowered the fork and set it on the empty plate on the floor, but I kept my eyes on him.

"Adele was never abusive to me, so don't misunderstand. And as I got older, I was just as much to blame for how things are. But I was always aware of how much I wasn't her child. Even before Finn was born."

My heart squeezed painfully, but I stayed quiet.

"She loves children who aren't her own; she found her calling in that center," he continued. "But for some reason, I was the one she couldn't love. And when you have that in your face your entire life, even if it's unspoken, it takes a toll."

"I'm sure it does." I slid closer, picking up