Page 99 of Creed

It's for Riley.

And I am so fucked.

Chapter 34

Creed

It’s concert night and we’ll take the stage in about three hours. Doors will open in two and I’m fucking exhausted already but I’m ready to get this show started. We’ve never done anything like this because bands typically just cancel or reschedule their tours. It’ll be a unique experience, that’s for sure. I talked to Jake this morning and he sounds like shit—worse than Collins’ did when she was recovering— but he says that he’s healing nicely and will be starting therapy soon.

I hope like fuck that it’s successful because Jake and his band worked their asses off to rise to their level of fame and I’d hate to see it burn out before he’s ready.

I’m standing center stage, overseeing the installation of the contraption that will hold the fabric that’ll hold Collins up during her routine. Silks, is what they’re called, apparently. Weird, considering the material is not, indeed, silk.

We’ve run through sound check twice now and we’d rehearsed snippets of each song for the set but we’re taking a break so the crew can finish the construction for this aerial setup for Collins.

“What the fuck is that thing for?” Steve snaps as he steps onto the stage. “That wasn’t part of anything we’d discussed, Creed.” He says, fingering through his folder that he no doubt pulled from that fantastic, magical suit jacket of his.

I roll my eyes as he stops next to me, staring up at the contraption. I smile at him with a grin that promises nothing but the shenanigans that he can’t stand on concert night. “Hello, Steve. I’m good. Thanks for asking. Sound check is going smoothly, too. Thanks for noticing.”

He scoffs and scans the rest of the stage to see Bear tuning his backup bass and Tony is shockingly calm as he sits cross-legged on the floor, re-stringing his Schecter seven-string that he typically uses during the second half of the set for our heavier, more guitar-centered songs. Riley’s got big headphones on; his lips curled between his teeth and brow furrowed in concentration as he taps against his silent drum pad. I sang just long enough for our sound guy to adjust my volume, but my main focus has always been to make sure that no instrument overpowers the other, that my voice doesn’t ring out over the music. I’d done some vocal warm-ups with Riley backstage while Collins spoke with the construction crew about the aerial setup.

Riley and I had taken Collins to a local studio this morning so that she could dance and practice her routine. If I thought she was talented in the dark lighting of that shitty club, it’s nothing compared to watching her in the bright light of day.

She’d worn short compression shorts and a black sports bra, but it may as well have been lingerie by the way she moved. It was mesmerizing to watch her. The flex of her muscles when she’d pull herself up, wrapping and wrapping the fabric around her body until she looked like a damn mummy, only to make my heart stop beating in my chest when she’d dropped and began to unravel. Riley and I both nearly bolted from the wall where we were sitting, ready to catch her before she hit the ground, but when she stopped herself with such grace and elegance, we were both once more sucked into the trance of her dancing.

It's no secret that I’m possessive as fuck over Collins and I don’t give a shit if she’s only been back in my life for a week. I’ve known her my whole life and I’ve obsessed over her for the last two years of that. I know what I want, so why the fuck would I wait and take things slow when I can have her now? I can’t explain why it doesn’t bother me to see Riley silently mooning over my girl, or the thought of him becoming a part of us so fast has my heart pumping, but not in a bad way. It fucking excites me.

I love Riley. I’m not attracted to him in a sexual or even romantic way, but that doesn’t stop me from showing him the affection he deserves, even if it drives him insane. Thing is, I’m fucking crazy enough to want to see Collins give him those affections, too. To see my girl giving him kisses and cuddling him late at night. See, this is the new bit of habitual fun I’ve picked up within the last several days—It’s the mental game I’m playing with myself, all these scenarios that involve the three of us and how the fuck I can make that a fantasy come to life.

Yeah, I should be bothered by the way I can tell that Riley is clearly smitten with Collins, but I’m not. I’m just the crazy fucker who’s turning dreams into reality. We’ll be like one of those books that authors write where the lady character doesn’t have to choose.

I’ll never make her choose. I’ll do that shit for her.

I’ll marry the both of them if I have to.

Mr. & Mrs. & Mr. Graves-St.James.

A damn mouthful, but it’s music to my ears.

Riley’s not the only one with shifting feelings. Oh, it’s not me, either. Collins is still mine and I’ve got zero plans of letting her go, rest assured. However, I’ve noticed the way my little blonde vixen watches Riley, too. It’s all innocent and platonic in their actions, but it’s impossible to miss the way she blushes when he smiles at her, or the way she nervously glances at me when he hugs her, like she’s waiting for me to snap.

I won’t, though.

She can cuddle the fuck out of my boy and I’d even join. Make a little Collins sandwich.

Yum.

Collins is definitely feeling something for Riley, but by the way she cried my name this morning when she woke up with my face buried between her thighs, I’d say her feelings for me are still firmly in place, too.

I’d never force her to choose, and I’m not going to try and put a stop to their growing feelings either. This is the twenty-first century and polyamory is a thing that no person should ever feel embarrassed or ashamed about. I know that the heart is capable of loving more than one person, and if Collins wants to find that with my best friend, too? I’ll be right by her side to help her navigate it.

Thing is, she’s too shy—outside of the bedroom, anyway—and her people-pleasing habits and undying loyalty would keep her from actually telling me how she feels. Riley only cares about everyone else’s happiness, but more specifically lately, Collins’ happiness. He wants to be that platonic best friend to her, to be that shoulder she can lean on, but I can see his hesitation at times when his own emotions and feelings for her get in the way.

It's cute, that neither of them have a clue that I know, or that I’m honest-to-fuck eager to see where this could go. We’re all family to each other in one way or another, so nothing would be changing about our dynamics, except that Collins would just have one more man to show her all the affection and love and pleasure that she deserves.

While Collins wrapped up her routine, I’d smacked a dramatic, wet kiss on Riley’s cheek and told him I was going to grab some coffee from the shop next door. I came back to see them huddled at the front of the studio, laughing and giggling over something Riley had said. I forgot all about the muffins I bought for them as my crazy-ass heart jumped in my chest at the picture of both of my favorite people looking so happy together. They both look like completely different people than they did even a week ago. They need each other. I need them. We need us.

Us.

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