Page 37 of Creed

Because she’s actually here.

With me.

In this fucking shady-ass club.

In my goddamned city.

Has she been living under my fucking nose this whole time and I’ve just been blind? Seriously, and I mean this with every fiber of my being when I say, what the fuck?! I want to stay angry, but I don’t know if I can let the emotion take precedence. Not when she looks at me like the way she is right now… with those jade eyes, all wide and doe-eyed, so fucking full of confusion, hurt, relief and something that looks an awful lot like longing.

We stand in the bright room just staring at one another for a moment before she wordlessly rushes to close the distance between us and wraps her arms around my middle and squeezes me in a tight hug.

Just like that, ten years of walls built to harden my heart start to crumble as I pull her tighter into me at the same time she buries her face into my neck and sighs.

“Creed.” She whispers so softly, I almost don’t hear it.

Fuuuuck. My name on her lips should not sound that good. It’s better than I ever fantasized. I clear my throat at the same time I attempt to clear my rapidly dirtying thoughts.

“Collins.” I echo back to her.

I squeeze her tighter, afraid that if I let her go, she’ll disappear from me again. I inhale her scent, the salty tang of her sweat mixed with a sweet citrus scent. Now is not the time for indecent thoughts but Jesus Christ, she smells fucking edible.

Down, Creed. BAD.

When she starts to pull away, I let her go reluctantly even though my hands are itching to keep touching her in some way, as if needing the contact to remind myself that she’s still here with me and this not a dream. I want to touch her, to hold her, but fuck, I need to keep my hands to myself. Now that she’s here in person, seeing her face for the first time in a decade, all the guilt and shame I’ve carried for so long has been released and it’s currently wreaking havoc on my body, feeding my inner turmoil.

Collins turns and grabs a robe I didn’t notice hanging on the back of the door to the room and wraps it around herself. I find myself disappointed that her beautiful body is now covered up and I mentally slap myself because now is not the time for lustful thoughts. Maybe later. Once the robe is tied, she wraps her arms around her midsection, as if to protect herself. She bites down on her full lower lip, worrying it between her teeth and it takes all of my control to not reach out and thumb it free and maybe kiss it all better.

Her eyes dart around the room, looking anywhere but at me. She coughs to clear her throat, and her voice is barely audible when she finally speaks.

“Um, can you…do you want to sit and talk? I—I’m sure you have… questions.” She stammers, her delicate fingers now wringing together nervously.

I take a look around the room, before outstretching my arms wide, gesturing to the whole building and pinning her with a wide-eyed look as if to say, What the fuck, Collins? I’ve been looking for you for two fucking years and I find you in a goddamned strip club. What the fuck happened? But all I say to her is, “To say I’m confused as shit is putting it mildly.”

It came out more harsh and clipped than I’d intended, but I can’t say I’m sorry for it. The look on her face right now is telling me that she’s been caught rather than being found, and that kind of pisses me off.

“I know,” She winces and speaks softly, nodding like she has a damn clue of what I’ve felt for the last two years when she disappeared.

She reaches up, scratching at her wig before grunting and ripping the bright red mess of tangled hair off of her head, her face scrunching at the effort as I see it pull at the skin on her forehead. I flinch at the way it looks like she’s tearing her own skin from her scalp, because holy shit it looks like that shit hurt. She sighs in relief even though her head is still covered in a nylon cap and hair pins holding it in place. If I weren’t fucking reeling at this whole surreal situation, I’d find it laughable.

I make to head for the couch to sit down but Collins’ arm snaps out, stopping me, her eyes a little panicked as she whisper-shouts, “Not here!”

I look down at her tiny form and don’t miss the way her hands are shaking as she retracts and shifts to grip her own elbows. “I don’t want Tank to see us speaking. If he knew that we knew each other, he would?—”

“Who the fuck is Tank?” I interrupt, my tone short and agitated. Is it that hulking brute that looked like he could eat me for breakfast and still be hungry for seconds? Are they together? The thought pisses me off more and I glare at Collins as I wait for an answer to a question that I know shouldn’t be important, but it is.

I swear on all that is holy that I’m not trying to be an asshole tonight. Really. I’m not. But I have so many questions and emotions battling for the top spot in my mind right now that it’s becoming difficult to keep my emotions in check.

She’s not mine.

Not my family.

Not my girl.

My girl.

My brain short-circuits and I’m suddenly hung up on the last two words of that little statement… and I can’t help liking the way that it sounds.

Fuck! No. No, no, no, fuck no.

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