Page 65 of Creed

The way these two quickly dissipated my dark thoughts has a sweet warmth settling in my chest. These men may be fucking beautiful and tempting beyond reason, but they’re showing me that they’re so much more beneath the surface. It’s easy to see a new version of friendship blooming between Creed and me, and a brand-new friendship between me and Riley. Something that feels cautiously like family. Something I haven’t had in a very long time. I smile at the two goofballs now seated across from me again.

Chapter 25

Riley

SHE’S JUST A FRIEND.

She’s just a friend.

She’s. Just. A. Fucking. Friend.

I’ve had to repeat the phrase in my head nothing short of a thousand times since Sunday, when she ate that fucking melted chocolate chip from my skin. My dick grew achingly hard and I thanked my lucky stars that I had the good sense to put some boxer briefs on under my sweats since I usually go without when I’m home. Before Collins, it was just Creed and me at the house, so I didn’t have to walk around worried about popping random boners.

After we’d smoothed things over with her on Sunday, I attempted to take a very cold shower to stave off the urge to wrap my fist around my dick when the memory of her emerging from the pool in that soaking wet shirt, my shirt, clinging to her like a second skin, her hard, rosy nipples standing out against the wet fabric.

I’d failed later that night and had fucked my fist while lying in bed. And again two nights ago when I was practicing on my drum set, testing out my new double kick pedal, the vibrations of the beat remind me of when we watched her aerial performance to our song. No surprise my cock ended up in my hand again, my release coming hard and fast when I thought about her lithe toned body and the way she moved like she owned the stage.

I was starting to feel like a fucking prepubescent teenager when I jerked my cock for a third time last night when I’d made her a mountainous sundae with every topping I could possibly fit on top and she fucking moaned around that first bite. Creed and I shared a look and I knew we were both thinking the same thing. The immediate thought and fantasy of her moaning like that over the pleasure we’d bring her took up residence in our brains. I wanted to yank her over to me and remind her of how good it felt when she’d straddled my lap, when she let me touch her smooth skin. I was fucking itching to touch it again.

But I couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

I’ve seen the way she and Creed look at one another. I’d never eavesdrop on their conversations, but I know something had to have happened between them that first night she was here. There’s lots of uncharted waters lingering between them and I’m not about to insert myself into a complicated equation that they themselves haven’t even attempted to solve yet. Every day the tension between the two becomes more and more palpable, and I’m just waiting for the snap. It doesn’t help that they’re sharing a bed, with the knowledge hanging over their heads that the forced proximity won’t change when our tour starts.

Though he’s offered on drunken nights in the past, I’ve never shared a girl with Creed. I never had much interest in women or men. It’s not like I have any attached trauma or bad memories of relationships, I just wanted my time with my person to actually mean something. But that’s just me.

The thought of sharing Collins with Creed? Fuck.

It's now Wednesday and it’s no surprise that Collins grows on me every day she’s here. We leave in two days to go on tour and she’ll be practically glued to our sides for almost four months.

Christ.

She’ll be living on the same fucking bus as me and Creed.

Collins Weston really is a ray of sunshine—in her own way. This girl adds a little boost of serotonin to whatever room she walks into. Even when Creed says something dumb to her and causes her to bristle, she’ll snap back with her own fire or flip him the bird, but it’s tampered quickly and she’s back to shining her sunny rays on everything.

I can’t get enough of her. Obviously, she’s ethereally beautiful, but she’s also a fuck-ton of fun to be around. She’s wicked smart, she’s funny, and she’s equal parts sweet and sassy.

Her pissy side isn’t fun to be on though. I firmly planted myself at the top of her shitlist when I surprised her with a trip to the mall to buy her more outfits. She made it clear that she doesn’t like people spending money on her. And I made it clear I don’t give a damn because I never get to spoil anybody.

Creed couldn’t come as he had to meet with Steve and Ayla to go over the finer details of the shows we’re taking over for As We Stand. After that, he was taking Bear and two of the band’s security guards with him to Viper to inform Tank that Collins won’t be returning to work. Ever. According to Creed. I’m glad for it, too.

I’m sure that’ll go over really well when he tells her tonight. I know she hates that place, but she also hates being manhandled, so I’m sure she’ll have some rather colorful words to exchange with him later.

Hopefully she won’t be pissed for too long when we surprise her with seeing her brother tomorrow morning before we leave.

We’d pulled up to the mall and Collins shot me that same hellcat glare I’d witnessed the first night Creed brought her home and firmly refused to get out of the car. My eyes absolutely stayed glued to her face and not at all drifted toward the tattooed shoulder that became more exposed when she crossed her arms over her chest, causing her vintage cut off tee to fall further down her shoulder. I was a perfect gentleman and kept my eyes on her face. Mostly.

I just shrugged with a shit-eating grin and told her I’d just buy her clothes that I liked and would guess her size for her if she didn’t want to get out. I would’ve left her there, too. For a minute, anyway. After grumbling some very colorful curses she threw the door to my Jeep open and strode toward the main entrance before I could even shut off the engine.

She’s fucking quick for a short little thing.

I know the kind of person she is, knowing how she grew up. I know because I was the same way. Between Creed, Collins, and me, we didn’t grow up with a lot and had to provide for ourselves in one way or another. At least Creed’s dad is pretty cool. I met him once after a concert a few years ago. He’s like an older version of Creed but burlier. We grew up without a whole lot of affection or care, so accepting the gifts and help of others definitely doesn’t come easy to any of us.

Like I told her, I’ve never been able to spoil anyone and she makes me want to spoil the fuck out of her.

I could feel the anxiety rolling off of her in waves at first, but I quickly pulled her to the side and gave her a bear hug and told her I wasn’t letting her go until she was better. Honestly, I couldn’t tell if the hug was more for her or me. I can’t help it. I was starved for human affection and she’s just fucking adorable and all too huggable. I released her and dragged her from store to store when I heard her muffled laughter at how I started walking while hugging her, our bodies waddling side to side while awkwardly navigating the walkway.

The sweet sound of her raspy, fading laugh makes me weak in the knees, so I’ve made it my personal mission to make this girl my new best friend and get her to laugh every opportunity I get. Sorry, Creed.

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