Page 8 of Pretend You're Mine

There was no use trying to deny my instant connection to Avery. But I had attempted to and done a messy job of it. It was hard to forget the confusion on his face when I turned him down.

Guilt shredded my heart into bits.

Even though it had been momentary, it was nice to have someone look at me like I was worth something, like I was special. I was probably exaggerating Avery's attention because I was attention-starved, anyway.

Fuck that! My life didn't need any more complications.

Shadows danced in the early morning light just in front of me. Still shaken up by my dream, I immediately put on my headlights. The guards wouldn't come snooping for loiterers for at least another hour.

Despite the lingering worry of where I would get gas money to fill my tank, I forced myself to relax and adjusted into a comfortable position in the car. The gentle warmth that radiated from the heater lulled me into a peaceful sleep. As my eyes fluttered closed, the world around me faded away into a dreamless void. Time seemed to pass without notice. It could have been minutes or hours before a sharp knock on the window jarred me awake.

CHAPTER 6

AVERY

I didn’t bother stopping at the coffee shop for my usual early-morning pick-me-up.

My cheeks still burned from my encounter with Creed the day before. I’d humiliated myself enough, thank you very much. Even though the chances of him being in there that early again were 50/50, there was no way I was risking another awkward run-in.

But my embarrassment over Creed wasn’t the only reason I was reluctant to grab a cup of coffee. The other reason was my sister, Becca. I needed to get to the office before she did.

At thirty, Becca exuded a confidence that made me feel like the kid I used to be. I was only twenty-five, yet here was my older sister, the one who had wiped my nose and bandaged my scrapes, now acting like she was the parent.

She had a quick wit, boundless energy, and an uncanny ability to dig under my skin, even when I was putting up my best defensive walls. No matter how much faux hostility I threw her way, she would just laugh it off and keep pushing, unrelenting in her pursuit of whatever juicy gossip she thought I was hiding.

Somehow, she'd heard I'd be bringing home my partner for Thanksgiving before I mentioned it to her. Who am I kidding? Mother was the only person I’d told.

I expected her to bombard me with questions about my non-existent boyfriend but she'd done the opposite. The day before, Becca watched me the entire time at the office, with a smug smile on her face like she knew something I didn't. It was hard to tell if she was happy for me, mocking me, or I was in the center of some plot she'd whipped up.

Either way, one thing was certain.

I was screwed!

There were only two ways out of this: finding a boyfriend in less than three days or cooking up a new excuse that would fly. And with my mother and sister cross-examining me, there was no way the second option would work.

I shook my head. I needed to get my shit together. I was fretting like a kid in desperate need of a prom date.

I looked up to see a Corolla with its headlights turned on, sitting right at the edge of the lot. Though the body of the car could use some work, it was in pretty good shape and the slow rumble of the engine affirmed this.

It struck me as odd—who leaves a car running while parked? A twinge of worry crept in. What if the driver was in trouble?

Before I could nip my curiosity in the bud, I found myself walking toward the driver's side of the car. Snooping into someone's window was an invasion of their privacy but I couldn't help it.

It wasn't like I was going to gawk or anything. I would just peer in for a second. Just to ensure the occupant was okay and then I would walk away.

That was the plan.

Gingerly, I took another step towards the driver's side, wiped away the frost covering the window, and craned my neck for a good look.

"What the fu–"

I quieted down almost as soon as I had cussed.

With the seat reclined, Creed lay there with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs drawn up to his stomach. He had a worn coat pulled over his lower body. It had shifted in some places and now showed off his sock-covered feet.

I pressed my face to the window harder, struggling to see better.

What the hell had happened?

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