Page 23 of Pretend You're Mine

The words played over and over in my head like a mantra. "Don't let anyone make you feel less for being you."

Nathaniel nodded at me. "Did you sleep well last night, cousin?" His tone was heavily laced with sarcasm.

Before I could think of a suitable response, Creed answered on my behalf. "We slept better than you did, I'm sure."

Joseph chuckled. "Dinner is going to be great. I can feel it deep down in my bones."

Creed must have concluded that Joseph's comment wasn't worth the trouble because he only scowled at him before directing his attention back to me. He wrapped his arm around me and leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Keep your head up high."

I raised my head.

A wave of relief washed over me. It had been a while since anyone had looked out for me in this manner.

As much as I longed for a break from work and the chance to start dating again, I couldn't shake off the way this man made me feel. Every moment spent in his presence made it harder to deny that I was attracted to him. This sexy but straight guy. But at the same time, giving in to these feelings would only lead to heartache and complications. It was a constant battle between my desires and logic, leaving me torn and confused. Because at the end of the day, I had to remember that what was happening here with Creed was simply a charade. Two guys pretending to be in love. But the gag was, one of the guys was straight and finding himself falling for the other guy... and he was only here because he was desperate enough to pretend to be someone he wasn't. For Creed, it was just about helping out the pathetic guy for a little compensation for his efforts.

“There's a game going on. Let's head to the den and watch some football. It's been a while since we did that together.” I jerked at the sound of Joseph's voice.

"Avery? Want to join me in the kitchen?” Becca’s voice was quiet. “I need help with something."

"Sure. I'm right behind you." I trudged behind my sister, glad to be somewhere else.

"Thank you, Becca. That was starting to get?—"

With a sigh, she remarked, "You looked really uncomfortable. It's no secret you hate sports, and the way you sat up straight as a board made it obvious that you were struggling to stay put."

I leaned against the cool marble counter, my arms crossed. "So, where’s your husband? I wouldn’t put it past Dad’s ghost to lock him in the cellar for not declaring Christ as his savior. And what about Mother? Still in one piece?”

Becca rolled her eyes but cracked a smile. “Nice to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor, Avery. Carl sends his regards to Mother and the rest of you.”

“Busy with work, I’m guessing?” I asked, my tone casual but my gaze drifting to the window, the evening light softening the room’s edges.

She sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. Turns out being an aerospace engineer is both lucrative and time-consuming. He’s got this big contract with the military he has to oversee. I’m hoping he wraps it up in time to make it home for Christmas.”

I caught the faint note of longing in her voice, the way her smile faltered for a moment. A heavy project like that meant long hours, probably keeping Carl away more than either of them wanted.

Time stretched between us, the silence broken only by the occasional clatter from the kitchen staff in the background. Becca leaned against the counter, eyeing me with that all-too-familiar expression.

“What’s that look for?”

She shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips. “Didn’t realize there’s a specific way I’m supposed to look at my brother.”

“Becca, you’re not fooling anyone. I know you too well. Something’s on your mind, so just spit it out.”

She moved closer, placing her hand on my shoulder, her gaze turning serious. “Look, this might sound weird, but I’m worried about your relationship with Creed.”

My muscles tensed, bracing for whatever was coming. “What about Creed?” I asked, trying to keep my tone even, but the edge crept in anyway. My heart drummed in my chest, and I steeled myself to defend this relationship—ourfakerelationship—if it came to that.

“Call it intuition or whatever, but I feel like you’re holding back about him.”

I let out a slow breath, keeping my expression neutral. “I haven’t held back anything about him, Becca. I don’t even know what you’re trying to get at.”

She crossed her arms, tilting her head in that knowing way. “Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb. You’re dodging the conversation, and we both know it.”

“That’s all in your head, Becca.”

But her words hit closer to home than I’d like. Creed’s past, his job, the hazy story of how we supposedly met—it all hovered between us like a storm cloud that I desperately avoided discussing. The mystery around his family and the vagueness of our future plans only made the act harder to maintain.

Becca quirked an eyebrow. “Look at you, deflecting and shit.”

---