Page 12 of Pretend You're Mine

His words jolted me back to the present. I kicked back in the passenger seat, the world outside rushing by like a blur. "Curious to find out why I was stuck with the name, huh?"

He shot me a look, hands steady on the wheel. "Yeah. Spill it."

A cheeky grin crept across my face as I reminisced. "My mom was probably the biggest fan of the Rocky films. Apollo Creed was her favorite character. I was named after him." I chuckled, still remembering how she would mimic the boxer's iconic poses. "Mom introduced me to the movies when I was twelve and I became obsessed with them. We used to watch them on her precious DVDs, which were practically our religion."

Avery's eyes softened, and he nodded, urging me on.

"We even had plans to catchCreed, the one starring Michael B. Jordan, at the movies when I was 17," I continued, feeling the weight of the memory. "But life had its own script. We were supposed to seeCreedthe day after Thanksgiving, but Mom was killed in a car wreck on her way home from work about three months before the movie came out."

Avery's grip tightened on the wheel, getting the heavy vibe.

I flashed a wistful smile as I declared, "So, here I am." My hand involuntarily clenched into a fist as I continued, "Named after a man who went from being Rocky's bitter rival to his loyal friend, only to meet a tragic end." A pang of grief washed over me as I confessed, "Mom and I never got the chance to watch Creed's son Adonis's movies together."

There was a beat of silence before Avery broke it, steering the conversation to lighter shores. "What's your middle name?"

“Creedismy middle name.” I chuckled, the mood shifting. It was as if he sensed I needed to be lifted out of the doldrums. "Mom had a wicked sense of humor. Go on, take a wild guess what she picked for my first name.”

Avery raised an eyebrow, a playful spark in his eyes. "Apollo?"

I burst out laughing. "Damn, you're close! Mom's movie obsession strikes again. Guess again.”

"Balboa Creed?"

"Getting warm."

"Robert Creed"?

"Warmer.”

“What about Rocky? Rocky Creed?”

"You’re this close.” I held my index finger and thumb an inch apart, emphasizing the small space between them.

“Wanna try again?"

”Nah. Tell me what it is.” His tone was good-natured.

"It's Rocco Creed. And don't forget O'Brien." I paused dramatically. "I'm Rocco Creed O'Brien, but everyone calls me Creed."

We shared a laugh at that, a reminder that even in the heavy stuff, there's room for a bit of lightness.

The rest of the journey to Avery's home was smooth, but with every mile that we covered, my nerves grew more and more. The pit in my stomach started to tighten, and I couldn't shake offthe feeling of unease. Even though we stopped twice for breaks, it felt like time was moving too quickly. I was anxious beyond belief about what awaited me at Avery's family home.

I could not help the wave of doubt that hit me as we pulled up to Avery's parents' mansion. The building towered over the maple trees in the front yard. My stomach churned at the picture of obscene wealth as my eyes traveled over the house.

The glass windows and the greenery surrounding the place made it look like a palace from a fairytale. Each corner of the house was beautifully carved with distinct artistic designs. I took in the fleet of luxury cars, including an Audi A8 that gleamed in the massive garage.

Just from the landscape and architecture of the house, I noticed that even my Sunday's best outfit stuck out like a sore thumb.

It was clear as day I didn't belong. Shame swelled in my chest.

"I've never brought any guy home before," Avery mumbled.

I turned to glance at him. I took in the pale smile and the way he drummed well-manicured fingers against his thigh.

"There's always a first time for everything. Don't be nervous,” said the guy who was super nervous—me. “I'm sure everything's going to be fine."

Avery huffed out a breath. "And what if it isn't fine?"

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