Chapter 47 #2
Collins taps her wrist, then makes a winding motion to silently say ‘wrap it up’ before disappearing again. Creed pulls back, and he looks about half a second away from losing himself to his lusty emotions.
Pulling him back to the tender side, I cup his jaw and bring his forehead to meet mine.
“How the hell did I get so lucky?”
He kisses me, but keeps it short and sweet and pulls back just far enough to look into my eyes. “Luck had nothing to do with it, seeing as you were always meant to be mine, Riley Benjamin.”
Fuck, don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“You two are so fucking cute it makes me sick,” Blair croons playfully from the doorway he just burst through with Collins and Asher hot on his tail.
Creed laughs as he buries his head into my neck one last time. His lips meet the shell of my ear, and he whispers, “This is far from over, Sweet Boy. I’ll be finishing what you started later.”
I visibly shiver at his words, my skin flushing with a rush of warmth. I knew this would happen, and I’m doing a mental victory dance with thoughts of what he’s got in mind for later.
He turns to Blair and steps towards him as the rest of our family and friends filter into the room and take a seat around the table.
“You want some, too?” Creed says, rushing his friend, who cackles as he darts around the table to avoid getting grabbed.
An hour later, we’re all stuffed, thanks to Collins’ fucking incredible food, and the atmosphere around the room shifts. What was once loud and animated has turned into contented, quiet conversations.
Fletcher can’t take his eyes off of Ayla as she talks with Blair and Asher.
They’ve been settled into their own home just down the road from here, but they’re in the middle of renovating two of their spare bedrooms into an office for Asher and a recording studio for Blair.
I may not have known Asher for long, but I can see a vast difference in his overall demeanor when he’s with B.
The two are so deeply in love, and it makes me happy to see my friends so happy.
Creed is leaned forward in his seat, rapt attention focused entirely on whatever story Garrick is telling him. His dad laughs, a light flush to his cheeks when Creed joins him.
Collins says nothing while she listens to Bear as I stretch, laying an arm across the back of her chair and quietly playing with the impossibly soft strands of her newly pastel, fire and water-toned hair. I think it’s the most creative she’s come up with so far.
It’s a split dye. One half of her hair has all fire tones: pastel copper that fades to orange and yellow at the tips, while the other side starts as a soft gunmetal blue and fades to pastel aquamarine and mint green colors. She’d done it in honor of our new album Ignem & Aquem.
Fire & Water.
It’s a different vibe than our other albums, but it’s my favorite to date.
Every track we put out is a story of something that’s happened in one of our lives, but this one tells of a journey that we all shared.
Every one of us had to live through what happened to Collins and me, and all of us had to heal in our own ways.
These songs tell those stories, each one completely unique, but one no more important than the other.
It even includes the song that Creed and I wrote together, Born From Ash, and the song I wrote when I’d just gotten out of rehab.
I’m not as creative as Creed when it comes to naming songs, so I simply titled it Theirs.
It’s a song name that means everything. The song is theirs—I am theirs. Mind, body, and soul.
“Shut the fuck—no way!” Collins whoops, slapping Bear across his bicep as he shows her something on his phone with a goofy grin on his face. “I knew something was going on! Wait, is that why you’ve been such a fucking grump?”
Bear’s smile drops, and he tries to scowl but fails and just chuckles under his breath again.
“What did I miss?” I ask, leaning over to try to look at Bear’s phone screen. Collins snatches it from his hand and shows me a selfie of Bear with a woman who seems vaguely familiar.
“Bear has a lady friend,” she teases, zooming in on the photo. The girl is pretty, but she’s got nothing on Collins. Long, dark hair and green eyes shine as Bear kisses her neck.
I squint, trying to place her. Creed’s head pops up between us, inserting himself into Bear’s business, too. “Hey, isn’t that—”
“Coco? Yeah,” she laughs, handing the phone back to Bear.
“Your friend from Viper, Coco?”
“The very same,” she confirms.
“You know that’s not her real name, right?” Bear grumbles next to her.
“Like how my name isn’t Star Girl?” Collins rolls her eyes playfully. “I know. Amelie is great.”
“She’s a fucking feral animal and a brat,” Bear huffs, settling back into his chair, but then a smirk tugs at one side of his mouth. “But yeah, she is.”
“Will she be joining us on tour at all? I need to call her, I haven’t spoken to her in too long.”
Bear nods. “She still works, but with Viper under new ownership, she’s able to take real vacation time, so she’ll be able to tag along for a few weeks towards the end of the tour.”
Collins straightens. “Wait, new ownership?”
“Thank fuck,” Creed mumbles, dropping into the chair next to Collins. Garrick is now deep in conversation with Fletcher, who is still watching Ayla. The man isn’t subtle in the slightest about the way he all but claims her with his eyes alone.
Bear nods, but Collins asks, “Who? What happened to Tank?”
Creed snorts as if to say ‘who the fuck cares?’ but remains silent.
“Jett. Tank is dead.”
“Get the fuck out of here. Really?!” Creed’s words sound like a taunt, but they don’t hold the bitterness I expected.
Collins sags in stark relief before the shock registers.
I don’t know the first thing about the guy, but Collins cares for him, and it’s evident that all he wanted to do was protect the men and women who worked there.
“How?” Collins questions, but the hesitation in her tone tells me she doesn’t really want to know.
Luckily for her, Bear shrugs nonchalantly, but the shift in his posture tells me there’s a lot more to the story than he’s letting on.
“Good,” Collins breathes. “At least the girls will be taken care of the way they deserve.”
Garrick pushes to stand, and it steals Creed’s attention. “Leaving so soon?”
His dad nods as he pushes his chair in and grips the back. “I’ve got a job early in the morning, so I need to get back and prep.”
The three of us stand and follow him through the house and to the front door. He pauses and looks at each of us, a softness in his eyes.
“Good luck on your tour,” he starts, clearing his throat and fixing his gaze upon his son. “Be good and behave yourself, Credence.”
“Dad—”
“I’m so proud of you.” His gaze slides from Creed to me, then Collins. “So fucking proud of each of you, and proud to call you all mine.”
A broken sob escapes Collins as she throws her arms around Garrick’s middle. Creed follows right before I do. Something shifts and splinters before reforming anew within my heart when he rubs his hand along my spine before gripping tighter, pulling each of us in closer to him.
This…this is the kind of love I’ve always yearned for in a parent.
Garrick doesn’t just reserve it for his only child, either. No, he gives it to each of us unconditionally. Loving us as if we were his own and supporting our dreams the whole way.
He pulls back and cups Collins’ face, playfully squishing her cheeks with a teasing smile. “Keep ‘em in line, Sunshine.”