Page 35 of Creed

“No.” I shake my head. Swallowing past the lump in my throat and the nerves threatening to turn my legs to jelly, I push to stand and cross the room stopping just a few feet from the two men. “Can I have just a moment to speak with him?”

Jett just stares at me. I can feel his eyes boring into me, but I keep my eyes on the bouncer. Needing him to see my determination and not any of the other million emotions raging through my very being right now. “Please, Jett.”

He nods after hesitating, though it’s clear he doesn’t like it. He releases the man staring at me as though I’ll disappear if he blinks and turns to the other bandmates in the room “You two follow me.” He turns and pauses in the doorway, “And get that sack of shit off my couch before I drag him out by that cheap-ass chain hanging around his neck.”

I hear a snort and a chuckle behind me, followed by a sleepy groan. Not a word is said as they leave the room, the door clicking shut behind them. Though there are only two of us in this room now, it feels suffocating, as if all the air was sucked from it when the rest of the men left.

I take the small moment of silence to really take in the fact that the man I’ve loved for so long is finally standing before me after a fucking decade. Even though I see his face everywhere because of his fame and social status, nothing compares to being able to drink in his features in person again.

Everything about him is still so ruggedly beautiful. So familiar. From his black hair that’s now cropped shorter on the sides and longer on top, to his ice blue eyes framed by thick dark lashes, and a sharp jaw I’d fucking love to kiss and bite and lick…

Stop it.

Focus, Collins.

He looks borderline manic with emotions swirling in his eyes that volley from pain, to confusion, to realization, to…anger? It brings to surface my own pain that I felt. Still feel. From all the times I wished someone could’ve saved me from the shitty hand I was dealt in life. Wished he would save me. It was so fucking selfish and so wrong to be angry at him all this time for not taking me in when I wasn’t even his responsibility. I definitely didn’t have a right to be angry when he begged me to let him save me two years ago and I shut him out.

Damn stupid pride. Look where that got me.

Swallowing down past the lump in my throat, I take a tentative step closer to him, closing in the distance between us. With every step, his nostrils flare and his chest heaves faster with heavy breaths, but he doesn’t stop me.

I don’t stop until we’re toe to toe, and I wrap my arms around his strong torso, and I hug him for the first time in ten years. It’s as if I can feel the crack in his hardened façade as his arms snake around me in answer, one gripping around my shoulders while the other presses into my lower back. His fingers flex and grip me tighter when I bury my nose in his neck and whisper his name.

“Creed.”

Chapter 17

Creed

Bear, Riley and I sat waiting patiently for this Star dancer after the threat that fucking scary-ass bouncer left us, while Tony was making even more of an ass of himself. I didn’t think paying her to dance for us was a good idea, but something about her had me curious enough to get a closer look. Now my knees are bouncing in anticipation to see her again. So many of her real features were hidden behind a wig and makeup which is no doubt done on purpose.

But when I’d heard someone refer to her as Stardust after the show, I nearly fell out of the booth where we were seated at the irony of the nickname, especially today. Her birthday. It’s an impossibility, so the fact that I’d paid to keep her near me long enough for four fucking private dances, so I guess that makes me a masochist.

Barrett looks calm and collected, his face giving away none of his real emotions, just like he always does. He finishes pulling his long hair up into a messy bun on top of his head and runs his hand down his beard before crossing his massive arms over his chest. Sometimes I forget how fucking huge the guy is, his nickname fitting for him. He’s eyeing Tony who now looks like he’s fucking tweaked out but somehow also about to pass out.

He's bouncing in his seat restlessly when he cups his hands over his mouth, his slurred words shouting over to the opposite corner of the room where she was no doubt waiting to begin. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. We already know how fuckin’ talented you are. We just wanna see those ti—ah, fuck, what the fuck, man?!”

Tony rubs at his shoulder where Bear just sucker-punched him. Probably a little too hard, but I don’t fucking care, he deserved it. “Shut the fuck up, T.” He growls at the idiot who’s now starting to slump over in the seat.

It’s embarrassing to watch. We might be rockstars, but we don’t live the stereotypical life of sex, drugs, and endless partying. Well, maybe not the drugs part. I reach out with my leg and shove his knee, trying to rouse him. “Jesus fucking Christ, Romano. If you don’t shut the fuck up I’m going to just let her have the money and drag your ass out of here myself, private dance be damned.”

Tony’s mouth moves, making some kind of intelligible noise before he’s completely unconscious and the room is quiet again. We all take notice that she still hasn’t started. I’m about to say something when Riley’s quiet voice speaks up, surprising me.

“I’m sorry, Star. You can, uh, start whenever you’re ready… I guess.” His legs are bouncing and his thumbs are nervously tapping out some rapid beat, no doubt matching his heart rate right now. The auburn waves on top of his head fall messily over his brow, nearly hiding the nervousness behind his dark eyes.

A second later, a slow, sultry song starts to play and all of our heads snap to the corner of the room. The whole world fades away when she steps out from behind the partition. The room is so fucking dimly lit that I can barely make out her features but the way she moves is so goddamn intoxicating.

I’m enraptured by this girl with curves that bend and sway with utter perfection, every move she makes pulling me deeper under her spell. She knows we paid for four separate dances and as she spins and dips, even in the dark of the room I can see her assessing us, choosing who she wants to dance for first.

The jealousy that burns through me when she drops to her hands and knees and fucking crawls to Riley is unreal. My cock is so hard behind my jeans right now that I can feel it pressing against my zipper through my boxers. I tip my head back as a low groan escapes from deep in my chest. Fuck, the sight of her dancing is conjuring up all kinds of fantasies.

This girl is going to be the perfect distraction I needed tonight. She turns, the long red hair falling over her shoulder, curtaining her and Riley’s faces as she places her knees on either side of his thighs, straddling his lap. His throat bobs, and I watch through a hooded gaze as his chest rises and falls with quickened breaths at their close proximity.

I spare a glance at the other couch where Bear is watching them, his typical mask of indifference plastered on his face. He was never an overly emotional person, but I feel like he’s forgotten what it means to even smile over the last decade.

The dancer moves in Riley’s lap and my eyes snap back to them. She leans forward and for a moment my heart stops when I think she’s going to kiss him but she bypasses his mouth and whispers something in his ear. When she pulls back and his eyes meet hers, even in this dark room, I see what looks like understanding simmering between them.

His shoulders are still tense, but he looks to be a little more at ease, and it’s clear that he’s got stars in his eyes for this girl. She gives him a small nod while undulating her hips over his crotch and his hands slowly lift and grab her hips.

---