Chapter 31 Collins
Collins
“YOU’RE KIND OF MY HERO.”
It’s been weeks since Riley finally came home.
He’s been diligent about his therapy and has even started working out with Wilder a few times a week in addition to his therapy sessions.
Zero complaints from me on that front. He’s getting that soft definition back that I love so much, and seeing his progress has me equal parts proud and turned on.
We’re celebrating his incredible progress by taking a trip downtown to the fancy recording studio so that he and Creed can piece together some tracks with Bear and Blair. It feels more like a family reunion because Ayla will be there, too.
Failure isn’t a part of Riley’s vocabulary, especially when it comes to his aversion to disappointing those he loves.
While he still uses smaller silicone grips on his drumsticks, his grip strength is incredible.
He’s improved so much, and it seems as if he’s gotten out of his own head ever since I invaded his drumming session and had him play while I straddled his lap.
I shift where I’m sitting cross-legged on the vanity in the bathroom. Creed is showering, singing a’cappella to some song by Pink Floyd while Riley is downstairs after offering to try and make chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast.
I miss Riley’s cooking, so it made my heart flutter in my chest to know he’s at least trying to get back at it.
Carefully, I peel the protective paper layer from the silicone gel sheet and turn my shoulder towards the mirror to inspect my scar.
It’s pink and puckered in several places, but some of the former gashes are much more shallow and have smoothed out, taking on a pale, shiny hue.
A sharp kind of sorrow pricks at my heart to see just how badly Guy marred my skin.
He’d always hated my tattoo, and it pains me to face the knowledge that he finally got what he wanted and got rid of it himself.
My vision dims, and faint auditory memories resurface from that day. I remember the pain, the tears that gathered and inevitably fell. Riley screaming and begging. Guy’s laughter. It’s all muffled, but it’s still there. I wish I could erase it all, erase the feel of his venomous, vile touch—
“Do you want me to help you place that, Stardust?” Creed’s voice cuts through the memories and darkness until his impossibly handsome face comes into view. He does so well with masking the concern in his expression, but I can feel it radiating from his bones.
It’s not his fault, but that pity and concern invoke an all too familiar kind of guilt.
Guilt that I am the cause of this extra stress.
My therapist tells me that it stems from childhood trauma—my parents fighting, me wanting to make myself as small and as non-problematic as possible—and she taught me some ways to try and rewrite my internal code to kick the people-pleasing…
but clearly I’m still struggling with that.
Though right now, my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth for a whole other reason.
The silicone strip slips from my fingers, but Creed catches it with a quick hand.
A flush takes over my body when the jolting motion causes his loosely tied towel to fall free.
His body has always been my very own definition of perfection.
“You’re so fucking pretty when you blush for me, baby.” Creed crooks his finger beneath my chin, encouraging my eyes to peel away from his gloriously pierced cock. “Be a good little patient for me now, and I’ll give you something sweeter than a lollipop later.”
I pull a sour face, and Creed barks a laugh.
“That snap you out of it?”
I huff. “Like a rubber band, Doctor Love.”
“Okay, brat, show me your muscles so we can get you patched up.” He smiles, holding his hand out for my arm. His eyes meet mine with a playful smirk firmly in place. “I was talking about Riley’s pancakes, by the way.”
“Mhmm, sure you were,” I quip. “
“You caught me.” He teases, carefully placing the bandage. He’s still gloriously and unashamedly naked…and it’s taking all of my self-control not to ogle every inch of his inked skin so proudly on display.
The cool touch of the silicone gel makes me shiver, but I force myself to hold still for him.
I’m feeling brave today, so I opted to wear a crop top with a longer skirt.
I’ve come to some sort of internal peace treaty with the long scars on my inner forearm, but the slices that mar my legs?
I’m not ready to show them in public yet.
“You’re a stunner today,” Creed says so matter-of-factly while focusing so intently on my dressing that it catches me by surprise.
He’s complimented me plenty every day from the moment I woke up in one way or another.
Maybe this time it’s the fact that I’m wearing makeup and have my hair pulled up into two messy space buns, some hairs hanging loosely and framing my face.
The effort I put into my appearance feels like more of a rarity than it used to.
Because I can’t help myself, I ask, “What makes you say that?”
I hate the amount of self-consciousness that bleeds into my question. I’ve never been overly aware of my looks. I was just comfortable in my skin. My scars have dimmed that confidence I once wore so proudly.
Creed’s smile is slow, with sweet adoration coating his expression, and it has my heart skipping a beat before kickstarting in a renewed, rapid rhythm.
“Because you look like my Stardust. My girl. You just look like…you.” His eyes look glassy. Reverent.
“But I’m not—I’m not me,” I rasp, a lump forming in my throat. “I don’t know if I could ever be her…the old Collins again.”
My admission feels like a ton of lead being tied to my ankles, and the truth is a vast, dark ocean that’s swallowing me whole.
Creed strokes my neck with his hands, his thumbs lightly brushing beneath my ears.
“I don’t need the old Collins back. I just need my girl as she is now.
You’re so goddamned strong, and truthfully, I have no fucking clue how you do it.
” That signature smirk pulls so tight that a dimple pops in one cheek as he dips his head and brushes his nose against mine.
“I loved you then, and I only love you more now.” He closes the distance and kisses me before I can properly process his words.
He smiles against my lips when he pulls back. “You’re kind of my hero, baby.”
Tears prick my eyes, and I give him a watery smile. “Say it again.”
Creed’s eyes search mine. “You’re kind of my hero—”
“No.” I laugh quietly “The other part.”
His smile stops my heart. “I love you, Stardust.”
I grip his wrists in each of my hands, closing my eyes. “Again.”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
“I love you so fucking much, Collins,” he whispers roughly, pressing his forehead against mine.
My lashes flutter open, and I look into the eyes of the man who has held my heart for longer than he knows.
“I love you, too, Creed,” I tell him, meaning the words with every fiber of my being. I press my lips to his, pouring every ounce of love I harbor for him into the kiss. “For more and longer than you could possibly imagine.”
“Fuck, baby,” he rasps against my lips, his forehead rocking back and forth. His grip on my face tightens fractionally, and he swallows hard. “You have no idea how I’ve been longing to hear those words from you.”
A small chuckle bursts from my lips as I run my nails down along the lines of his arms. “You would’ve heard them a lot sooner, but you told me not to say them yet.”
I can see the moment the hospital memories flash through his mind because his eyes go distant and his expression sobers up. A wave of sadness and trepidation take over, and it’s so unlike Creed that it catches me by surprise.
“I didn’t believe I deserved to hear them back then.” He shrugs, taking half a step back, dropping his hands to the tops of my knees. “I’m still not even sure if I deserve them, but I’m fucking selfish, and now, I can’t get enough of hearing it from your lips.”
My face falls as sorrow pierces my heart for the man before me.
What I went through was a fucking unimaginable nightmare, but I can’t even begin to imagine what it felt like for him.
He fought so hard to keep me safe, and I’ve seen the way he and my brother punish themselves for feeling like they failed Riley and me.
For the first time, I can see the demons he’s barely keeping at bay.
The trauma he endured and continues to fight against every day.
This incredible man has been fighting to maintain this happy, flawless facade, keeping every bit of pain and internal struggle a closely kept secret. My heart twists and aches for him, that he’s been shouldering it alone.
“You saved me,” I say, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Every day, you save me.” I swallow thickly, my eyes welling up with tears. “But who saves you?”
Creed heaves a sudden breath, the sound incredulous as he tips his head back, blinking rapidly. As if he can’t believe I asked the question. It’s not mockery, but disbelief.
“You silly, silly fucking girl.” He turns his misty eyes on me.
“You save me. Riley saves me. Shit, even Asher and Blair save me. Seeing all of you—my people—under my roof, smiling, laughing, and fucking destroying my kitchen with questionable meals?” We both laugh at that.
“That’s what saves me. Shit gets heavy in here sometimes,” he says, tapping two fingers against his temple. “But your joy makes it go away.”