Page 73 of Creed

My heart skips because he knows how much I hate them spending money on me already, so he took the time to find a place that wasn’t expensive but had good food. Nobody ever did things like this for me after Creed and Asher left for greater things and I’m hit square in the chest with an unfamiliar squeezing sensation that’s not one of pain and longing, but a fullness I haven’t felt in a decade.

“Why do you call me that?” I ask as we get out of the car, wanting to switch gears before I become an emotional mess.

“Why not?” he says, a goofy grin gracing his face. “He calls you Stardust.” He gestures to Creed, who’s pulling off his plaid flannel button down and tying it around his waist. I get distracted momentarily as I watch the way his muscles pull and flex over the motion of manipulating the fabric. The way his tattoos move and dance across his skin with every ripple of movement.

“I call her Stardust because she’s irrevocably obsessed with David Bowie. Listened to him nonstop when she was a kid.” His eyes turn to me and drop down my body for a second before meeting my eyes again, only now they’re filled with something that looks an awful lot like lust. “Apparently still is.” He smirks, rubbing his thumb across his bottom lip.

Ah, he’s remembering that Bowie inspired costume I wore.

Before I have a chance to fantasize about biting on that lip myself, he turns and starts making his way to the diner entrance, pulling his phone from his pocket and fiddles with it for a second before putting it away again. Riley and I follow him inside as he glances around like he’s looking for something or someone.

My brow furrows as I try to follow his line of sight but Riley distracts me by leaning down, his lips close to my ear as he says, “I call you Snow because I’ve never seen hair so naturally white. I also call you snow because it’s something we rarely ever see here in Cali, but when it does come, it’s pure, delicate, and graceful—it’s breathtakingly beautiful, and meant to be cherished for the time that it is here.”

I whip my head to him, my mouth forming an O. I look up to see that he’s blushing just as hard as I am. My heart is thudding hard in my chest because oh my god. It’s one of the most incredible things that anyone has ever said to me. I thought he’d called me Snow because of something cheesy like reminding him of that cartoon princess, but no. He just fucking blew me away with his words.

I’m at a loss for my own words, completely flustered that this sweet and goofy, but insanely attractive man just gave me one of the most romantic reasons for such a simple nickname. I manage to smile at him and stutter out a lame, “Thank you.”

I don’t get a chance to say more because Creed grabs me by my wrist and starts pulling me through the diner, weaving around the tables and booths faster than my legs can follow. I stumble and he mutters a half-assed apology over his shoulder.

“Creed,” I call to his back but he keeps pulling me along. How fucking deep is this damn diner? “Creed! Slow down, Jesus, what the fu—” he stops suddenly and whips around before he grips my shoulders, a really weird look on his face that has me wary and raising a brow at his odd behavior.

“Look, I thought this was a good idea to surprise you at first, but now I’m thinking I should’ve asked you before…”

I shake my head, confused. “What are you talking about? What surprise?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but his eyes go wide with unease and a bit of what looks like regret when a deep voice behind him cuts him off. “Collins?”

I freeze.

The voice sounds familiar. So fucking familiar. A voice I haven’t heard in ten years.

I peek around Creed and meet the eyes of a tall, muscular man dressed in an expensive-looking all-black three-piece suit, and a fancy haircut with his dark blonde hair pushed back away from his face. A face that’s clean shaven with a strong, sharp jaw. Familiar green eyes lock onto mine and I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Eyes that soften before welling with tears. Eyes that remind me of home.

“Asher?” I rasp, taking one tentative step around Creed towards the man who looks suspiciously like my brother. My brother, who was always a little rugged, rough around the edges at times, but this guy is some clean-cut, fancy-ass version of him.

Why is he wearing a three piece suit at six in the morning?

That doesn’t matter, Collins.

What matters is that it’s him.

My big brother.

I don’t hesitate to run into his arms the moment he opens them with hope and love and pain shining in his eyes. All thoughts and feelings of the only family I had left abandoning me are pushed aside for a moment when I wrap my arms around Asher’s middle and squeeze. I breathe him in and somehow, all these years later, he still smells the same, too.

“God, Collins,” He breathes into the top of my head. Taking a shuddering breath, he lays his cheek against my hair and sobs once. “Fuck, I can’t—My baby sister…” he trails off.

I couldn’t give two shades of shit that we’re in the middle of this diner with people looking at us like we’ve all grown two heads. Fuck them. I haven’t been reunited with my fucking family for a decade. Get over yourself and eat your pancakes, Glenda.

He just holds me tight and I squeeze him back. Creed, Riley, and everyone else fade into the background.

The moment we break apart, reality washes over me and the past comes back to remind me that I’m pretty goddamned pissed at him for the way he ghosted me for this apparent lavish life he’s been living without me. I had no idea what had happened to him after he quit his short MLB career, but apparently he’s done pretty fucking well for himself. I’m ready to scream at him and curse him to hell and back but I remember the chance I gave Creed to explain himself, so hold myself back. Barely.

As much as I want to hug my brother again and sink into the familiarity of his hold, I cross my arms over my chest and I’m vaguely aware of Creed’s presence approaching behind me. I barely catch the back of Riley’s head from the corner of my eye as he finds an empty booth several feet away and suddenly becomes very interested in the menu.

There are so many things I want to say to him. So many questions I have to know the answer to. Why did he leave me alone? Did he not want me in his life anymore? Was I that big of a burden to him? Was I always just an obstacle in his way? I need answers, but all I can think to say, in a voice much smaller than I’d intended, is, “You left me.”

The words are choked and a rogue tear escapes, but I don’t bother to wipe it away. I feel the soft, barely-there brush of Creed’s fingertips at my lower back. The touch grounding and calming. I watch Asher’s face morph into an expression of pain and regret personified. He swallows and looks down at his shoes, then out the window, before meeting my stare as he says, “I know. I owe you so many answers.”

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