Page 57 of Creed

From the way he fought to pull me from the club, despite my dissociative episode and my stubborn streak rearing its head. The way he pissed me off when he refused to take me back to my room at the motel and took me back to his lavish home instead. The way he told me he’d fantasized about touching and kissing me. The way my body burned with lust and want and need when he kissed me like it would be his last. But then again I guess it was his last with the way he pushed me away and told me he couldn’t—wouldn’t— do it again.

Why? The damage had been done the moment his lips touched mine. The attraction and the lust are there, so why fight what we want? Then there’s the whole bed-sharing incident where I woke up wrapped around his body. His shirtless, delicious, toned and inked body. I had to fight like a motherfucker to control my breathing when my thigh brushed his hard cock, causing my pussy to throb uncontrollably. I’m fairly certain he bought that I was still asleep when I rolled myself over and buried my face in the pillow that I was convinced would keep us on our own respective sides of the bed.

Obviously I was wrong. Apparently I’m a hussy in my sleep.

The moment he disappeared to the bathroom I bolted. I didn’t get far in my escape when Riley caught me and bribed me into staying with the promise of all-you-can-eat pancakes and bacon. Which I exercised fully. I feel my cheeks flush when I think of the little game he and I played with tossing and catching chocolate chips in our mouths.

I knew just by looking at Riley that he was just a smidge shorter than Creed, but he was also leaner. I’m not sure what I expected to see when I encountered the shirtless drummer, but it wasn’t…that. He may be thinner, but he certainly wasn’t the string bean I thought he was. Riley Graves is deliciously cut and toned. He’s not the kind of skinny that only shows abs. Nope. God, no. Riley’s got gloriously defined pecs and abs, an adonis ‘v’ and his arms are well sculpted no doubt from constantly moving them while playing drums. He’s beautiful.

And the way his face flushed and his dark brown eyes blackened when I swiped that chocolate chip off of his chest? Fuck. Me. Okay, so maybe I was laying it on a little thick by sucking my finger into my mouth to clean it off, but Riley is fucking hot and I was already flustered from keeping myself from dry humping Creed’s leg.

But all the fun and arousal buildup had taken a plummet when Creed tried to tell me what to do in regard to my job, then he hurt me by hurling my bad life choices in my face, like I chose to be in the situation which I’m currently living. Of course I told him to get fucked and stormed out, dead set on getting away from him, but one look at the massive wall around the property had me saying fuck that and decided the pool looked like a better option. I have no regrets now with how perfect the water feels.

I let loose a heavy sigh because I have no idea where to go from here. If I’m being honest with myself, aside from him trying on his controlling asshole hat and hurtful words, the thought of leaving Creed again makes me feel sick to my stomach.

I let myself sink below the water, my whole body cooling and relaxing, releasing some of the tension I’ve been holding in since last night. I push off the bottom of the pool and break through the surface on a soft exhale, pushing my wet hair back out of my face. I wade in place for a moment, taking in the scene of the backyard beyond the pool. This place really is more like a well-manicured oasis.

My heart sinks a little because I shouldn’t allow myself to get used to this. This isn’t my home and my staying here would just be an imposition on Creed and Riley’s lives.

The sound of a throat clearing startles me and I spin around, finding Creed and Riley both standing at the edge of the pool, watching me. Creed’s face is set in a carefully blank expression, his arms crossed over his chest. Riley’s eyes are soft and sweet as they watch me, amusement sparkling in his dark irises as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. The two men look like polar opposites. Total grumpy-sunshine friendship.

My first instinct is to apologize for the rift between us and create the a sense of peace again, but I bite my tongue because I’ll be damned if I even so much as utter the words I’m sorry because I fail to see where I’ve done a single fucking thing wrong.

We’re all quiet for an awkward moment before I quietly sigh and make my way to the edge of the pool. Creed crouches down in front of me, leaving no choice but to crane my neck to look up at him as I grip the edge of the pool. His steely expression softens, allowing me to see the shadows of regret darkening the usually ice blue color of his irises.

“I’m so sorry, Collins.” His words come out with full sincerity and I can feel that he truly means it.

My hardened façade cracks at his words and the use of my actual name, and not Stardust.

When I first chose Stardust as my stage name, I regretted it because of the way it sounded coming from any mouth that wasn’t Creed’s. Over the years, I thought I would come to hate the name, but hearing him say it now—now that I’m not fuming mad or on the outs of a dissociative episode—I still have that butterfly feeling in my belly at the way it wounds when it slides from his lips like silk.

I look at him, wiping the excess water from my face as I think about my next words, and if I really mean them. The corners of my lips lift, slowly transforming into a genuine wide smile and say, “forgiven.”

The smile he gives me in return makes my belly flutter with excitement. Fucking panty-dropping smile. He offers me his hand, even though I’m right next to the ladder. I take it and try hard to not marvel over how his tanned, tattooed, and calloused skin starkly contrasts against the smooth, pale tone of my own. He hoists me from the pool with ease and helps to right me on my feet. “Can we talk?” he asks, taking a step back, his eyes sweeping over me quickly while I wring out my hair.

“Yeah. I?—”

“Riley can you get Collins a towel?” he interrupts, his voice strained and clipped.

My brows scrunch together at his sudden tone change, but when Creed snaps at his friend again, I turn my attention to Riley to see that his eyes are trained on me. Almost zoned out. Not on my face though. I look down and quickly realize that his eyes are fixed on my chest. Namely my hard, pebbled nipples showing rather prominently beneath the now-soaked t-shirt that’s plastered against my skin. His t-shirt.

My head snaps back to Creed, my eyes wide in shock. I feel heat creep up my neck and to my cheeks with embarrassment. I’m practically on full display for them.

Oh.

Before I can lift my hands to cover myself, a warm, fluffy towel is being snatched from Riley’s hands, wrapped around my shoulders, and pulled tight across my chest, effectively covering my breasts. It’s a good thing they’re covered because the shiver that racks through my body is no doubt turning my nipples diamond hard.

“Thanks,” I say, my voice awfully meek as Creed sidesteps next to Riley and shoulder checks him, snapping him out of his staring contest with my tits. Spoiler alert: he won. It’s cute to see his cheeks flush at being caught staring, though.

I clear my throat. “Um, you wanted to talk?”

“Yes, please.” he answers and gestures to the lounges on the other side of the pool, situated in the shade. We take a seat, me sitting sideways on one, while Riley and Creed across from me on the other. Creed looks away and grips the back of his neck with one hand, rubbing back and forth before his eyes find mine again. “First, I want to apologize to you again. I have no good reason, but my mind has been ten shades of fucked up for the last thirteen hours and I snapped at you when the pressure of everything became too much, so I aimed all that anger at you, but that was wrong of me. I shouldn’t be saying things like that to you. There’s no excuse for hurting you the way I did and I swear to you, Collins, it’s not something I’ll ever do again. I swear it.”

His words wash over me and the last of the fire I’d built against him in anger has diminished to nothing but ashes. I know Creed, and I know he would never intentionally hurt me. It doesn’t excuse the things he said to me, but I understand what it’s like to snap when you’ve hit your mental capacity. “Thank you for your apology.” I say, a small, teasing smile lifting my lips. “Like I said, you’re forgiven.” I point a finger at him through the towel I’m clutching to my chest as I level him with a glare. “Don’t ever pull that shit and talk to me like that again.”

He traces an x over his heart before placing his palm over the same area. “I swear it.”

I believe him, too.

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