Page 86 of Creed

Voices pour into the space as footsteps pound up the steps. Riley pops up first, followed by Ayla, Bear, Ritz, and Steve. They’re all talking to one another so what they’re talking about is lost to me. Bear and Ayla go quiet when they see Collins sitting on the couch which then draws Ritz and Steve’s attention, too.

“Ohmygod,” Ayla rushes out, practically shoving Riley out of her way and tripping over my legs as she dives to sit next to Collins on the couch and yanks her into a hug.

Collins is shocked stiff for a moment, but she softens and gives Ayla a soft yet awkward pat on her back. Ayla pulls back and notes the uncertainty in my girl’s expression—feels fuckin’ good to think that phrase and it actually be true—and is quick to apologize. “I’m so sorry, I—you probably don’t remember me, but I’m Ayla. I’m a friend of Creed’s and Bear’s sister.”

She turns her head at the mention of the guy currently plopping down on the couch across from us, his fucking Aquaman hair pulled half up into a bun, and dark eyes observing the whole situation, always fucking scanning for threats and recognition sparks in her eyes. She’d only met him the one time, but the circumstances of that meeting had to have had a lasting impression. Bear’s always been a protector of women, but especially his sister. I have a feeling Collins is being added to that roster considering that he knows she’s now a permanent fixture in my life once again.

“Oh!” Collins squeaks out as she turns back to Ayla. “I do remember you!” she smiles, but then shoots me a glare damn near makes me want to flinch. Almost. But I don’t. I want to go head to head with fiery Collins. “It was you and Bear who found me and helped me out of the woods when I was left alone.” She puts extra emphasis on that last bit and her words are all fire and sass, the accusation dripping like venom from her tongue.

I kind of want to lick it off of her. Want to know what her skin tastes like when she’s all fight. I want to see all of her sides. I want to claim her while she’s happy and soft. But I also want to fuck her while she’s all hard and angry, too. I want to devour her every emotion and sensation like they’re fucking skittles.

Taste her goddamn rainbow.

“Hey, as I recall correctly, Stardust,” I glare back, but the mirth shining in her eyes tells me she’s not actually pissed anymore. I mean, that would be a very long time to hold a grudge. I continue anyway, “It was Asher’s turn to watch you because I was in the shed getting—” I cut myself off abruptly, not daring to finish.

“Getting what, Creed?” she asks so sweetly, but I can feel the barb from here. She’s sharp as fuck. Kind of want to bleed on it.

But warning bells are going off, flashing lights and lots of beep, beep, beep to the sound of me backing my ass out from the tight space I’ve fucking driven myself into.

Bad Creed. Abort mission. Do NOT poke the little Collins-sized bear.

“Tools.” I blurt with a guilty-as-fuck grin on my face that I just can’t wipe away. We all know exactly what I was getting in that shed, but Collins doesn’t let it affect her. She just scoffs and rolls her eyes like she couldn’t deign to give me the courtesy of her time for a real answer and goes back to talking with Ayla, the two of them relaxing back into the cushions and falling into easy conversation. I love that she’s growing into this take-no-shit sparky side of herself.

She can put me in my place anytime .

Hopefully, that place she puts me in is between her thighs with my face and tongue buried deep inside her sweet pussy.

The girls laugh at something, yanking me out of my little fantasy land that looks and smells and tastes like Collins. My head snaps up to see that they’re huddled close, looking like the best of friends who are swapping secrets. Collins looks lighter, emotionally. Ayla’s good. She’s never once looked at any of us as anything more than a friend, that’s all she’s seen us as, or as she so affectionately likes to call it, minor inconveniences. She’ll be good for Collins, as I’m sure she’ll get sick of my crazy ass and sometimes it’ll just be good to talk to anyone who doesn’t have a dick. I’d know. Ayla’s listened to me bitch and complain about anything and everything since she joined Bear a few years ago and became our social media and PR manager.

Speaking of bears, I had texted dear Barrett last night even after we’d talked during our meeting earlier this week just to remind him that she’d be staying with us while we toured. He knows vaguely of the threats her foster father has been sending, so of course he was all for her staying with us, being the mother hen of the group and all.

Tony—I’m sorry, Ritz, as the asswipe likes to be called, nearly got his ass beat to a pulp when we pulled into the lot and he’d offered for her to ride on his bus, and then to promptly ride on his dick. I wanted to snap his dick off completely and make him choke on it when he spoke about Collins like that.

I took tremendous joy in watching him turn a really fun shade of purple while choking him up against the side of his tacky, chromed-out hummer and threatened him to stay the fuck away from her because I don’t trust his unstable ass.

I know, I know.

Pot, meet kettle.

I like to think I’m the fun crazy.

Tony’s just the… not fun kind. He gives the ick or whatever it is the young people say these days. The kind you want to smother with a pillow and still call it an accident.

I’ve wanted him out of the band from the moment Steve negotiated his contract because he’s always been an embarrassment to be seen with in public. Somehow, unbeknownst to me, he has yet to do anything—or hasn’t been caught, is more like it—to violate his contract to get kicked out of the band. Popping my own nails off with a straight pin sounds more fun than the time I’ve had to spend with that guy. So I’m just waiting for him to fuck up big time and I’ll be there to throw the goodbye party. But I’ll be damned if I let him near Collins, or for her to get caught in the middle of his bullshit and I refuse to let him even speak about her in any way shape or form without repercussions.

Next time he so much as looks at her funny, I’ll fucking kick his teeth in.

Steve clears his throat and all conversations die down and we turn our attention to the greaseball that is our manager. Hate that fuckin’ guy, too.

He’s the only one who doesn’t know about Collins joining us, but at this point, the people who matter know.

Riley drops down on the same couch as Bear, and Tony stands behind Steve, fucking twitching and bouncing around like an ill-mannered child hiding behind their parents’ leg.

I want to roll my eyes at how ridiculous the two of them are and it hasn’t escaped my attention at just how much Steve goes to bat for Tony. How he’s always bailing him out of trouble himself. It’s weird as fuck.

“Just like with any tour, we need to go over the itinerary over the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.” He pulls out a folder from his jacket and I find myself wondering how the hell he had pockets big enough to hold the damn thing.

I need one of those. I could fit Collins in one of those things.

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