6. Avery

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?

Maybe he'd gotten drunk and realized he was in no shape to drive and chose to sleep it off in the parking lot.

I knew I was staring too long, but there was no other way to learn the truth about Creed.

He shifted in his sleep, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position, and that was when I noticed the newspapers tucked into every crevice of the Corolla's interior.

My eyebrows furrowed so deeply that it felt like they were meeting in the middle of my forehead. My heart plummeted as I came to the harsh realization—the charming, attractive stranger who could have charmed my pants off if he'd swung my way was homeless. And he had nowhere else to turn but his car.

The sight of him sleeping there, vulnerable and alone, caused a sharp pain in my chest. I couldn't simply stand by and ignore this. I had to take action. It was no longer just about me and my attraction to him, but about helping someone in need.

Before I could think of what I would say to him, I rapped on the window.

I watched Creed jolt awake with a start. His gray eyes shot open as he glanced around as if searching for threats. His fingers reached instinctively to where his head had been seconds ago.

For him, there was no slow switch from sleep to consciousness. He went from being dormant to alert in a second as if a switch had been flipped on. He flung back the coat that had covered him and sat up straight like an uncoiling spring. Another check in the military column.

I took a precautionary step back, raising my arms in the air. I studied Creed for a while longer while waiting for him to come to himself.

He blinked sporadically. Then when he noticed me watching him, his eyebrows lowered and pulled close.

Outside, I smiled encouragingly at him, arching my extended index finger as I gestured at Creed to roll down his window so we could talk. He shook his head.

Seconds later, the door clicked open and Creed stepped out of the car a hot, shivering mess. He wrapped his arms around his body protectively.

"Rolling down the windows to talk would let all the heat out," Creed muttered. He straightened nervously, his gruff voice stunting his breath.

"Hey, I'm not here to cause trouble," I said, my voice steady. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Creed narrowed his eyes, skepticism etched into his features. "What do you want?" he asked, cutting straight to the point. "Or did you come this far just to gawk?"

I couldn't help the smirk that tugged at my lips. "Hell no. What is there to gawk about? A grown man curled in the fetal position is a view that interests me, Creed."

"Oh?" His tone dripped with disbelief, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. "You look like a smart guy. Smart enough to realize that I wouldn't buy the script that says this encounter was coincidental, especially not after getting turned down. Why are you stalking me?"

I took a deep breath, the biting cold seeping through my jacket. "Look, I know this is weird, but can we talk somewhere warmer? I'm freezing my ass off here."

His gaze softened, and after a long moment of silence, he nodded, switching off the engine of the car and locking it with an air of caution. I led the way to a coffee shop nearby, the warm glow spilling onto the pavement as we approached.

Inside, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped us, a stark contrast to the chill outside. We ordered and I found a quiet corner and motioned for him to sit across from me. The ambiance was cozy, dim lighting giving a sense of intimacy, which felt almost inappropriate given the circumstances.

I took a sip of my coffee, letting the warmth spread through me, gathering my thoughts. Creed looked around, still on guard, as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I somehow figured you'd be in a better spot than your car," I said, trying to lighten the mood. "But that's not really why I'm here."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat as if preparing for whatever I was about to throw at him.

"I'm in a bit of a bind," I confessed, the weight of my situation heavy on my shoulders. "I need a boyfriend. For Thanksgiving. My family—" I paused, swallowing hard at the thought of my mother's relentless matchmaking. "They won't leave me alone about settling down. If I don't show up with someone, I'm going to hear about it for days."

Creed's expression remained impassive, and I pressed on. "I know it sounds crazy, but hear me out. I need someone who can pretend to be my boyfriend for a weekend. And I can pay you for it. Just name your price."

His brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his features. "You're serious?"

"Absolutely. It's an opportunity for both of us. I get a hot guy to show off and distract my family, and you get a trip and some cash for your troubles. Win-win, right?"

Creed studied me for a long moment, the silence stretching between us like an unbridgeable gap. Finally, he scoffed, a hint of amusement breaking through his skepticism. "There are a thousand dudes you could choose from. Why me?"

"Because you have that rugged charm, Creed. You look like someone who can hold their own in a family gathering, and I need that. Plus, you're good-looking; I wouldn't have to fake any attraction."

A flush crept up his cheeks, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of interest in his eyes. "And what's in it for me? What do you want from me?"

"I want you to show up, hang on my arm, and let my family assume we're together. No funny business. Just play house for a few days."

He leaned back, arms crossed, clearly weighing my proposition. "What happens if I say yes?"

"Then we come up with a backstory, we go to Michigan for Thanksgiving and you get a few home-cooked meals. Maybe some homemade pie," I said, trying to sweeten the deal. "I can even throw in an extra grand."

He let out a low chuckle, and I couldn't help but smile back. "Alright, I'm in. But this is strictly business," he said, his gaze steady. "No Pretty Woman makeovers. And definitely no falling in love."

"Deal," I replied, trying to suppress the thrill coursing through me. "All we have to do is pretend. You just have to be my eye candy for the weekend."

Creed nodded, his expression softening, and just like that, the tension shifted. We were in this together now, for better or worse.