Faked (Ward Family #2)(26)

"Let's go with six months."

"Six months, it is," he agreed easily.

Two songs later—songs he knew the harmony to—he tried again.

"What changed?"

Tearing my eyes away from the mountains, I begrudgingly let my gaze turn in his direction. Which was a mistake, because Bauer, in the shirt and the jeans and the hat, with that scenery and that dark hair along his jaw, was like something ripped out of Rugged Man Magazine, and I was not here for that.

Not here for it.

At all.

He gestured back and forth between us when I didn't say anything. "Between us. What changed? Six months ago, I mean."

My mouth fell open. "I-I don't know. Does it matter?"

Bauer's shrug was careless. "Yeah, it matters. If I'm hanging out with a couple who interests me, and I start asking them questions about their relationship, I'd want to know what changed, considering we've known each other for years."

"Well," I hedged, "you and I just ... I don't know ..."

"Thank you for proving my point about why we need an answer."

I gave him a look. "I'd bet ten bucks that he won't ask what changed between me and you."

"Me and Lia," he corrected lightly. "Remember?"

Swallowing, I nodded. "Right. You and Lia."

"I mean, there must have been one moment," he said. "Maybe you were spending the night."

I closed my eyes. I didn't want to play this game with him. Didn't want to imagine whatever he had in his head because it was probably vivid. "I thought you never went home."

"Rarely," Bauer conceded. "They don't exactly roll out the welcome mat for me."

Staying quiet felt like a safer choice because my options were either contribute to the little story he was concocting or allow him to spin a tale of his own making.

"So I probably snuck in late since I needed a place to stay." He tapped his thumb on the wheel, and the sun glinted off the solid silver ring he was wearing. "You couldn't sleep, so I found you in the kitchen, staring into the fridge."

Carefully, I tucked my knees up to my chest and hugged my arms around my legs. I didn't want to imagine this. Because it suddenly, somehow seemed so much worse if he was placing Lia into his mind, instead of me.

My safe choice didn't feel so safe anymore.

"No one will ask this," I said quietly.

Bauer ignored me. "Maybe you offered me a drink because you were going to have one. One turned to two. Just enough that you were willing to lower your defenses around me, princess. First time you ever did that, I'm thinking."

I raised an eyebrow. "Taking advantage, are we?"

"Hell no. We were relaxed. Not drunk. I don't sleep with drunk women because trust me, that's a whole different world of trouble when you wake up the next morning."

"This story is leading to all sorts of romantic places."

He grinned. "In my mind, you grabbed me and planted that first kiss on my very unsuspecting lips. A hot kiss too."

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks were flaming. "Of course, that's how it would work in your head."

Bauer licked his lower lip. "You tasted like cherries. After that, I was all but whipped. I was yours to command, and I've never looked back."

Turning my face back to the window, I tried some deep breathing exercises at the thought of maintaining that particular fa?ade for even one single day. My heart was racing terribly. "I can't imagine Richard Harper will be interrogating us."

He laughed. "Polite conversation is not an interrogation."

"It sure feels like it," I muttered under my breath.

Oh, he heard me, and he thought that was hilarious. "You know, I like it when you're just being Claire."

No, no I would not feel a flush of warm, gooey happiness at that statement. When you were a twin, particularly an identical twin, there was a strange emotional tangle that went along with it. Inevitably, you're linked with that person for the rest of your life. In a lot of people's eyes, you come as a package deal. Friends in high school and even early college when we lived in the dorms were shocked if only one of us showed up to an event.

Claire and Lia.

Lia and Claire.

People taking a second to make sure they knew which twin they were talking to. Like we weren't completely different underneath the surface of our skin. Half the time, I wasn't even sure they cared if they knew which one was which.

For some reason, sitting in that car, following my brain along that path, made me think of something Brooke said to us about a year before she left.

We were driving to Logan's house. It was hard to remember the details now, but she wanted to go do something, so she was dropping us off at his house so he could watch us. Lia and I were bickering in the back seat, and because she couldn't hear her music over the noise we were making, she yelled back us to pipe down.

Because she was incapable of keeping her mouth shut, Lia sweetly asked which one needed to be quiet.

"Like it matters," Brooke snapped. "I can't even tell which of you sounds worse right now, or who's more annoying. Which is the same as every other day, I guess."

She'd gotten her wish because it shut us up in different ways. I’d felt like she'd punched me in the stomach. Lia's face went smooth instantly, but I’d felt her anger. I’d felt it humming under my skin.