Page 93 of Fake It 'til You Make It

‘What the hell are we going to do about these wet clothes?’

42

TED

We’ve done exactly what Abbey wanted us to do. We’ve lived the day like it was just us, as if none of the reasons Abbey and I can’t work exist. We’ve kayaked, hiked and bouldered, laughed and joked, touched each other and got lost in each other, given fellow hikers something to talk about once or twice.

It’s so unlike me,us, I think, to cut loose, to be truly liberated from all the noise down below. Chatting like two old friends who have a thousand things in common and so much to catch up on. It’s better now that she’s a numbers girl; I like that about her. The multiple colors of her personality seem to fit, not that my instinctive mistrust of her has vanished. When we have fallen into silence, it hasn’t been awkward. I’ve not searched for the next words to fill the void; we’ve been content in each other’s company.

I just like being around her. Almost as much as I like the sensation of her lips on mine, the feel of her in my arms.

The way she kisses me takes me to another world, one where I’ve never been kissed.

Because I haven’t, not the way she kisses me.

It’s urgent yet gentle. Hot, yet tender. And I believe, when we’re locked in these moments, that she wants to be with me every bit as much as I need to be with her. Both frustrated that we’re on a rock in one of the most beautiful places in the world and so many other people seem to know it and want to walk here, too.

Abbey checks her watch and sighs – a sound I don’t want to hear because I know it’s the ticking bomb on today, on the time we have left before I have no option than to tell her who I really am.

‘I think we’re going to have to head down; we’ve still got a way to go to get back to the car and Shernette and Dee are flying in.’

Leaning back on my elbows, I raise my head to the sun that is telling me it’s late afternoon. ‘What if I say no?’

She reaches for her backpack and looks inside. ‘Well, I could leave you with the bear spray and one last nut protein bar but I doubt you’d make it until morning.’

Reluctantly, I share the joke. ‘I’ll take my chances with the bears but I can’t face another snack of nuts.’

Abbey chuckles but it’s short lived and I know she’s feeling what I am: the dawning inevitability of this day coming to a close on us. Except she’s afraid that at the end of it all, I’m going back to San Francisco and a life of sport, models and booze.

She has no idea that the truth is worse.

43

ABBEY

The phrase ‘you could cut the tension with a knife’ is absolutely apt to the feeling of being in this vehicle with Mike. Before we set off for home, we shared one more kiss and it was passionate, fiery, chaotic and expectant. If it hadn’t been for other people in the car park…

We’ve been making small talk on the drive but I know all I’ve been thinking about is getting home and getting into the shower in my ensuite. Then…

I’ve never had shower sex. I’ve never had sex out of a bed, actually. I’m not even sure I’ve had great sex, especially after today. After feeling more lust from a kiss than I’ve ever felt from sex.

Sex. Sex. Sex.

It’s all I can think about. But not just sex. Sex with Mike. The body that I’ve been feeling against mine all day. That body naked, on me, over me, in me.

Garghhh, I’m a mess. I can’t think straight. It’s a wonder I’ve even made it to the driveway of home.

The sun set on our drive back – a legitimate distraction Icould pretend to be admiring whilst my mind was completely absorbed by images of Mike semi-naked in a towel, his skin wet from showering, Mike in a see-through shirt in the lake. Now, as we get out of the car, we’re surrounded by dusk and quiet. Though the lights are on in the house, I’m beyond thankful that there’s no sign of my family.

I get out of the car, already having decided the kayaks can be untied tomorrow, and knock my door shut. I make for the rear door to pick up my backpack from the footwell – I don’t know why – but I don’t make it as far as opening the door before I feel Mike behind me, his breath, then his lips, on my neck.

Thank God he wants this, too.

He turns me, nudging me back against the car, and I’m so pleased we’re getting a second chance at this kiss-up-against-the-car thing because today, without lies standing between us, a gentle caress of my cheek is not going to cut it. He knows I’m not really an actress to match his sports player, yet he still wants me.

His face is close to mine and I want to look at him, just for a moment, enjoy him, take him in, willing my mind to stay present and not overthink what tomorrow could bring. He steps closer to me, so I can feel his pelvis against my stomach. My hands find his hair and I pull him closer to me, tilting my chin, parting my lips.

But something shifts in his expression and I physically see his retreat from me.

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