Page 80 of Creed

“Hell yeah,” I say excitedly. I shift around in my seat to grab my polaroid from my backpack since I take it with me everywhere, and I see that Riley’s no longer in the vehicle next to me. “Where’s Riley?” I ask as I scoot back to where Creed is waiting patiently in the doorway. By the time I get to the edge of the seat, Creed and I are nearly nose to nose. A shiver runs up my spine and I clench my thighs when he leans in and rubs his nose against mine before lifting his face to place a kiss on my forehead. The place where his lips touched me is on fire when he pulls back and continues to look at me like I’m something he wants to devour. With the way he makes me feel all the time, I want him to devour me. Right here, splayed across the back seat.

I’m practically panting and ready to throw myself at him by the time he pulls away with a satisfied grin on his face. I want to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

“He’s loading his stuff onto the bus. Come on, I’ll take you for a little tour.” He says it so casually, like he didn’t just tip my world off its axis, his hand patiently outstretched to me. I take it and he surprises me by lacing our fingers together before pulling me along. I can’t take my eyes off his tattooed hand that’s engulfing mine.

I don’t want to lose this memory in case it’s just a fluke thing, so I lift the polaroid and take a picture. Creed looks back at me and grins as the photo slowly feeds from the bottom. I take it and tuck it into my pocket before he can see what it is. I don’t know why I feel the need to hide it, but I do. It’s just been me and my photos for years and I’m not ready to share it yet.

On the rest of the walk over, my stomach flutters at the thought of sharing a bus with Riley and Creed. I thought it’d be fine, but getting to know them both better for the last few days combined with Creed’s hot and cold behavior toward me? Now I’m not so sure.

Creed tugs me along to the first bus in the lineup and doesn’t let go of my hand as he pulls me inside. These buses are huge from the outside but I’m still shocked at how spacious it is on the inside.

“This is beautiful,” I breathe, turning in a slow circle to take it all in when Creed releases my hand.

I note a lofty bunk at the front of the bus with what looks like Riley’s suitcase already perched on the end of the mattress. The space where I’m standing is right in between a cozy sitting area under the loft with two plush couches on either side and a shockingly large kitchenette and breakfast nook on my other side.

“Follow me,” he crooks his fingers at me—the unintentional sensuality of the beckoning motion going straight between my thighs—and he nods his head toward the back of the bus. Thank God I’m behind him so he can’t see the fucking heat creeping up over my face as I follow him down a short, narrow hallway that has a small bathroom complete with a shower on my right, and two more small bunks on my left with privacy curtains hanging over each. Creed pushes open the door at the very back and it reveals a room that somehow fits the king-sized bed that’s nestled along the back wall. The small windows actually offer a lot of natural light, making the small space look larger. The entire bus is filled with cool tones but it still feels warm and homey.

“You’ll sleep in here,” Creed starts, and my head whips to him.

“What?” I question, my palms suddenly feeling sweaty and I shift on my feet. “Like, with—with you? Like the way we slept at your house?” I feel like an idiot for asking, and the blush on my cheeks amplifies all over again. I’m annoyed at the way my voice fucking squeaks when the question comes out without filter.

I can’t look at his achingly beautiful face, so I glance at the bed, noting there are only two pillows so the possibility of a pillow wall between us is an impossibility.

“No,” he says simply and it takes colossal effort to keep my shoulders from slumping with the disappointment that I feel over the simple one-word answer. No idea what his face looks like because I refuse to look at him still. I’m not sure where the confident girl who took his mouth and ground over his hard cock a few nights ago went, but apparently she’s left the building. Being friend-zoned can do that to you, apparently. “You’ll get sick of sharing a bus with two dudes who will have shit for sleep schedules over the next few months, so trust me when I say you’ll be needing your own space. I’ll take one of the bunks outside.”

“Creed, no.” I argue.

“Collins, yes.” He mocks and I scoff.

“No!” I turn to him and put my hands on my hips. Amusement shines bright in his icy eyes. “I’m not taking your bed!” I exit the room and pull back the curtain of one of the bunks. They’ve got a little over two feet of space overhead which is plenty of space to sleep cozily.

“Why the hell not?” Creed calls after me and gently yanks me back into the room like putting me in here is going to really drive his point home.

“Because of what you just said. Your sleep schedules are about to be fucked. You’re going to be on your feet for hours on end, singing and playing and exhausting yourself for the next three months. You are going to need a comfortable, private space to decompress. And…” I trail off, but Creed crosses his arms and raises his eyebrow at me, waiting for me to continue my embarrassing rant. “You need… you’ll have…” I stop myself because I really don’t want to finish the sentence.

But of course Creed doesn’t let it go.

“I’ll need what, Collins?” Creed’s voice drops to a low rumble that makes me clench my thighs and I shiver at the sound of my name on his lips. He takes a stalking step forward and his ice blue eyes dip down my body and slowly rise again, freezing in place when they reach my chest. I don’t even need to look to know that my lacy bra is doing absolutely nothing to hide my hardened nipples from how fucking turned on I am right now.

We’ve had this exact conversation just days ago, but I can’t let it go. I don’t want to sleep on a bus with him, or Riley for that matter, if they’re going to be seeking pleasure from other people. My heart couldn’t take it. I’m embarrassed at how hard it is to just get the damn words out, but I have to know for sure before I push to sleep elsewhere.

I shake my head. “You’ll have?—”

I start to say, but he takes another step closer, effectively shutting me up at the same time I take a step back. When he speaks again, it’s low and gritty and damn near lethal with what it’s doing to my lady bits. “I’ll have…what?”

He takes a final step forward and because it’s a small room on a tour bus, I stumble and fall back, my ass hitting the foot of the bed on a soft bounce, the new angle forcing me to crane my neck to meet his eyes again.

My breathing picks up because does Creed leave me alone down here on the edge of the bed? Of course not. He leans down, hands bracketing me on either side of my body, and his face is now so dangerously close to mine. His minty breath fans across my face on an exhale. He quirks a single brow at me, waiting for me to finish my sentence from earlier.

Why do I feel like I’m doing a naughty thing by being forced to say the words out loud? We’re both adults and we both curse, surely this shouldn’t be such an issue.

It’s not an issue with saying it. I’m not a prude with my vocabulary, but it’s the implication of him being with other people that aren’t me that I don’t want to voice. He knows it. I can tell by the look on his face. He just wants me to say it. Why, though? He’s the one who reinvented the line we’re not to cross.

But it must be fucking rainy in the place where he drew it because it’s looking awfully fucking blurry right now.

I release a shallow breath, my chest rising and falling quickly at his close proximity. “You’ll have… needs.” I close my eyes tightly, hating the ridiculousness of the sheepish words coming from my mouth. “Surely you’ll want to bring someone back and you can’t?—”

“Can’t what?” He prods, and I can tell he’s leaning even closer when the heat of his body washes over me and the tip of his nose just barely brushes mine again. What the hell is happening?

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