12: Caroline.

"This is surreal." I lick the syrup from my lips and watch as Nolan flips a pancake.

He's standing in the small kitchen wearing nothing but his boxer briefs that cut low across his ass, not only showing off all the hard lines of the muscles he has from years of manual labor but my image inked on his skin. I'd pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming but I can still feel him on me. The throb between my legs from our lovemaking is still there and I don't think it will be leaving any time soon. Was that lovemaking or fucking? I think it was everything rolled into one after years of pent-up longing and need finally getting released.

"Eat," Nolan tells me as he looks over his shoulder. I forgot about my food and I reluctantly pull my eyes from him and take another bite.

"I didn't know you could cook," I say before taking another giant bite of the fluffy goodness.

I always cooked for Dad and me, and Nolan often joined us for meals or I'd take them down to him at the shop. That stopped wh