Page 19 of Pretend You're Mine

Every second I spent tonight looking at Creed or appreciating how beautiful he was played on a loop in my head. My heart raced as I held my breath, bracing myself for Creed's reaction. Would he see me as a pervert? Maybe he would unleash his military training and throw a hard punch at me. Or perhaps, in some sick twist of fate, he would walk out the door, leaving me to face the consequences alone. The uncertainty only added to the turmoil brewing inside of me.

I was wrong.

None of those things happened.

Instead, Creed shifted to face me, his expression serious. "Are you scared of me? That's why you're lying on the edge of the bed, right?" His voice was... sad.

I wasn't sure how to respond.

Only the sound of our breathing punctuated the silence in the room, but Creed didn't let the quiet discourage him.

"I'm sorry about the way your family treated you during dinner. You're a good person and you deserved better than that.”

With a long, slow exhale, the tension in my chest seemed to roll off like a heavy blanket being lifted. I relaxed my shoulders and settled into a deep sleep.

My eyes flew open, my body still heavy with sleep, and for a few seconds, I couldn't make sense of my surroundings. Then, I heard Creed's muffled cries and saw him thrashing on the bed next to me. Adrenaline shot through me as I realized what was happening—he was having a nightmare.

A solid kick to my hip forced me out of the bed and I hurried over to his side. I stood back watching him wriggle and roll on the bed, as if he was trying to get away from something. Stark fear was reflected on his face, making me wonder what exactly he was seeing that made him panic so much.

Switching on the lamp, I noticed his side of the bed was soaked in sweat. The same sweat that drenched his gray sweats and light blue T-shirt and dripped down his face.

After a few seconds, I inched closer and tapped him gently. Whatever tormented his sleep, I couldn't bear to watch him struggle anymore.

It took another tap to jolt Creed out of his nightmares. As his eyes jerked open, he gasped, struggling to breathe.

"You just had a bad dream. It was only a dream. You're okay now." My fingers lingered on his chest where I had patted him awake.

Creed’s gaze roved the breadth of the room, settling on the bed and the soaked up sheets. He glanced downwards at his damp shirt. “I’m sorry?—"

I cupped his face in my hands and tilted his neck until he was looking directly at me. Our eyes locked for a second and I leaned in close.

Looking into hisgrayeyes, I felt something stir inside of me.

A spark? Was it a flame that crackled inside me, the embers spreading in my chest?

The air around us was a heavy fog that had settled inside the room. Creed was completely still until he finally blinked, his eyes widening. He let out an audible gulp, my gaze fixing on his Adam's apple.

"You don't need to look that way. I swear, nothing hap–" I raised my hands, palms facing forward, to reassure him.

My words, though meant to soothe, only seemed to add to Creed's panic and he jerked backwards, as if he'd beenelectrocuted. He tumbled off the mattress and hit the ground with a sick thud, his face twisted in anguish. And then, in a flurry of motion, with flailing limbs like a tragic ballet, he was gone, disappearing behind the closed bathroom door, shutting himself off from me and the world.

CHAPTER 11

CREED

The coldness of the bathroom tile as I slid to the floor shocked me out of my nightmare-induced haze. I leaned my back against the bathtub. The oversized tub in Avery's oversized bathroom was just another reminder of how different we were.

I blinked my way back from the fragments of the nightmare and reminded myself of where I was, bit by bit. Internally, I cursed my subconscious for dredging up my shitty memories. With the almost good day I had had, I hadn't expected to see bloodied and decapitated bodies when I shut my eyes that night. It wasn't like anything had happened in particular to trigger them.

A salty tang assaulted my tongue and I realized with a jolt that I was crying and rocking back and forth. The tears flowed free and uncontrolled, cascading down my cheeks in hot streams. I tried to stem the tide with the back of my hands, but it was futile; they came from a place beyond my control, fueled by a deep well of pain and anguish.

Avery was knocking at the door, quietly but desperately asking me to let him in.

Still seated on the cold floor, I attempted to tune out the sound of Avery's insistent knocking. My vision swam. I closedmy eyes, rocking back and forth. I didn't see darkness behind my vision, it was blood—of children and my buddies mixing with mine. The bright red liquid flowed in abundance.

I forcefully swallowed the bile rising in my throat. Christ, would I ever catch a break? The banging of the door forced the grisly details of my dream back into the recesses of my mind.

"Creed! Open up. Please…"

---