Page 38 of Pretend You're Mine

I could almost see him pacing, his hands gesturing like they used to when we’d brainstorm during those late nights, dreaming about what life might look like beyond the sand and gunfire.

“Enough about me,” Trent’s voice dropped, growing more serious, like he was bracing himself. “What about you, Creed? Heard you’re back to civilian life. How’s that going?”

I tensed, the words sticking in my throat. Civilian life. He said the words like it was normal, like that dishonorable stamp on my file wasn’t sitting there like a stain, even if he hadn’t outright mentioned it. Did he know? Had he heard the rumors? My mind buzzed with the questions I didn’t want to ask.

I tried to keep my tone light, but my hand gripped the phone so tight it hurt. “Doing some work here and there, just trying to find my footing. You know how it is.”

Trent let out a knowing grunt. “Yeah, it’s tough. You got plans for the holidays?”

“Spending it with... a friend.” I bit back the urge to explain more, feeling like I was exposing a little too much of my messy life. For all I knew, Avery considered this whole thing a business arrangement, a way to keep up appearances. I didn’t even know where I stood with him.

“Good, good,” Trent replied after a pause, but his voice carried a weight, as if he knew there was more to the story. “We should catch up in person after the holidays. Grab a drink or something.”

A strange warmth flickered inside me at the thought. Trent had been through the mud with me. He was the closest thing I had to family, even if we’d drifted apart after he left the military. There weren’t many people in this world who cared whether I lived or died, but at least there was Trent, calling out of the blue, reminding me I wasn’t completely alone.

“Yeah,” I managed, clearing my throat. “I’d like that.”

We exchanged a few more words, making tentative plans before the call ended. I stood in the middle of the tiny room for a moment, the silence pressing in around me, but that ache in my chest felt a little less sharp. I didn’t know what Avery really thought of me—whether he saw me as something more than a way to fend off his family's questions. But at least I had this. A friend who hadn’t forgotten me, who didn’t see me as a project to fix or a burden to bear.

I tossed the phone onto the bed. The thought of Avery's warm, well-lit family home with its garlands and fancy decorations gnawed at me, but I shoved it down. I’d survive, like I always did.

CHAPTER 22

CREED

Avery’s sleek car came to a smooth stop in front of me, its engine purring quietly. The door opened, and there he was, stepping out into the cold with an effortless grace. He was dressed in a dark wool coat, the collar turned up against the cold. His hair was styled just right, not a strand out of place, and even in the frigid air, he looked like he belonged in a magazine spread.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the car’s side mirror—unruly hair beneath my burgundy beanie, and a faded jacket that had seen better days. The old sense of not being enough twisted in my gut. But then Avery looked up at me with that tentative, genuine smile, and for a moment, the edges of my insecurity softened.

He moved toward me, his arms opening slightly. “Hey, you,” he murmured, his voice carrying through the frosty air. He wrapped me in a hug that was warm and firm, the scent of his cologne—clean, with a hint of spice—wrapping around me like a comfort I didn’t want to admit I craved. I stiffened at first, awkward in his embrace, but then I let myself lean in. His touch made the cold seem a little less sharp, the world a little less harsh.

I pulled back, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck, trying to shake off the embarrassment that crept up my spine. I caught a look from Avery—his gaze tracing over my worn-out clothes, but if there was judgment there, he hid it well. I tried to focus on the warmth of seeing him again instead of the knot twisting in my chest.

“You look... good,” I managed, my voice rough, the words coming out like they had to fight through gravel. It was the truth—Avery always looked put together, like he had his life lined up perfectly.

He glanced at me, a flicker of something crossing his face, maybe concern. “Thanks,” he said, tucking his hands into his coat pockets, rocking slightly on his heels. “Ready to get out of here?”

I nodded, throwing my duffel into the back seat before sliding into the passenger side. The car’s interior was warm. Avery settled into the driver’s seat, and we rolled out onto the snow-covered streets, leaving behind the dingy little apartment building.

We drove in silence for a while, the heater blowing warm air that gradually thawed my fingers. I kept sneaking glances at Avery, catching his sharp jawline and the focused set of his mouth.

Breaking the silence, he asked, “So, what were you like in high school? I can’t picture you as a kid.”

I snorted softly. “I only ever wanted to be a Marine.”

“How come? To see the world?”

“More like it was my dad’s dream,” I replied, shrugging. “Didn’t work out, though.”

Avery’s expression shifted, a mixture of understanding and empathy crossing his face. “Well, you definitely got the adventure part. I guess we all think it’s going to be one way, but then life hits us with reality.”

“Yeah, reality and all its glorious challenges,” I said, shaking my head with a chuckle. “I thought it would feel like freedom, you know?”

He nodded, one hand on the wheel. “I get that. He glanced at me with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. “You know, I’ve been thinking about those ridiculous what-if scenarios.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, what if we were superheroes? What would your power be?” he challenged, a grin creeping across his face.

---