Page 24 of Pretend You're Mine

I forced a chuckle, shifting gears. “All right, seriously. Creed and I are just... living in the moment. Not everyone has to settle into the whole family thing, you know? I can’t make him open up about his past if he’s not ready. There’s nothing hidden here, no big secrets.”

“Fair enough,” Becca said, nodding, though her eyes still carried a trace of doubt. “Just remember, I’m here for you, always.”

I reached out and squeezed her shoulder—a gesture that felt like slipping back into an old role, back when we were kids and before I came out to the family. “I know, and I appreciate it. Creed and I... we’re good.”

She made a face. “If you say so.”

I shook my head, offering a smile. “Come on, let’s find something to snack on before dinner.”

CHAPTER 13

CREED

I'd been worried about how today would go with Avery’s family, afraid they'd see through my acting. Of course, I wanted Avery's family to like me. If not as a person, then as Avery's boyfriend.

Huh? Boyfriend? It was the first time I was claiming the tag in my head without automatically reminding myself I was a straight man with a fake boyfriend. I waited for the fear and self-judgment towards my own sexuality to arise, but it never did.

"So," Evelyn began in a singsong tone and the table quieted. "Have you considered therapy to help you cope with your traumatic experience while in the military? My therapist explained the stages of grief when I started going to her."

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably.

It was hard to tell if her question was born out of genuine interest or because she couldn't resist taking a dig at me in front of everyone.

"Thanksgiving weekend is a sports enthusiast's wet dream, isn't it?" Avery counted off on his fingers when he says, "You've got NFL, NBA and NHL games happening all across the country."

My eyes shot toward him to confirm what I suspected. Yup, he deliberately changed the subject. Brilliant.

The brothers, Joseph and Nathaniel, got into a robust argument about the three professional sports, but I found it impossible to focus on what was being said.

Avery's fingers skimmed on my thigh, hidden from view underneath the table and separated from my bare skin by the fabric of my jeans. He squeezed occasionally and warmth spread through me.

Did my eyelids flutter or did Avery just wink at me?

"You don't talk much about your family," Avery's mother began again. "How about your late father? Were you close?"

Fucking perfect.

Avery leaned in to whisper, "I'm sorry for what you are about to go through." His pleading eyes made me feel a need to protect him. Instead of asking her if this was the CIA or FBI like I’d planned to, I found myself putting on the good boy act.

"We weren't close and didn't always see eye to eye, but he was my father, and I'll always love him." I forced a smile, even though what I really wanted was to push my chair back, give each person at the table a piece of my mind, and walk away. But that wouldn’t be fair to Avery. He was a genuinely good guy, and I wasn’t about to do or say something that might hurt his relationship with his family.

Avery's mother took a slow sip of her wine, peering over the rim of her delicate glass. Her tone was as brittle as the china in her hands. "So, I take it he never found out you were gay? Did you ever come out to him?" She paused, letting the question hang in the air. "And what about when you were in the Marines? Did you pretend to be straight just to fit in with the others?"

I sucked in a deep breath and threaded my fingers with Avery’s beneath the table, his touch grounding me. My gaze flicked back to Evelyn, trying to keep my frustration in check. Despite her polished appearance, her attitude grated on my nerves. She looked like someone who had everything neatlysorted in life, but her probing questions were like knives disguised as conversation.

Becca sighed, clearly exasperated. "Can we?—"

"He never found out I was gay," I cut in, my voice edging over Becca’s comment. "But it wasn’t because I was trying to protect his feelings or cater to some fragile ego. It’s just that I hadn’t found the right person yet."

Evelyn’s eyes narrowed, her stare cold and unyielding. "And you're convinced that my son is the right person for you?" Her skepticism seeped into my skin like a chill, making me want to squirm, but I held my ground.

"We've gotten this far, so I’m pretty sure," I said, forcing myself to hold her gaze, though my throat felt tight.

She leaned back, creating a dramatic pause before delivering her next line. "How far? You’re having sex? Is that your big revelation that you've met the right person?" Disdain colored her words, turning her expression sharp. "Why must everything revolve around sex for your generation?”Says the woman who prepared a room with only one bed for our weekend at her home.“Can’t you form deep, platonic relationships without it turning sexual? Was your father married to your mother, Creed?"

It was clear that Evelyn's questions had more to do with the wine she’d been steadily sipping than any genuine need for answers. I opened my mouth, ready to defend Avery, to point out how deeply her words cut, but she wasn’t finished.

"I was married to my late husband for thirty-two years." Her voice wavered as unshed tears glossed her eyes. "Those were the best years of my life until Avery came out and ruined everything."

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