Chapter 15
Creed
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I snap, finding Noah asleep on my couch bright and early.
He sits up, rubbing his sleepy and unfocused eyes, clothes neatly draped over the back of my armchair.
“What the fuck are you doing up at this time on a Saturday?” he counters, stretching his arms over his head while a big yawn tears his mouth wide open, his tongue piercing playing peek-a-boo with me. “It’s five in the morning.”
“Which means the gym’s empty.” I cross my arms over my chest, waiting for an explanation.
“Jesus,” he groans, falling back onto the decorative pillow, my sizable morning wood in his face. “Put some pants on, Creed,”
His fault for imposing on my personal space.
“What are you doing here?” I repeat.
“Millie’s in my bed.”
My heart slams to a halt. For a second, I’m not sure I heard him right, then my brain halts, too, like someone pressed a reset button and I’m fucking rebooting right now.
...what the fuck?
My lips part, but words don’t come. I stare at Noah as he rubs a hand over his face, still half asleep and very unaware of the rug he just pulled from under my feet.
At least my brain’s back online.
I think about the fight night last week, the way Millie looked standing at the fence, her delicate fingers curled into the chain-link. I think about the moment I snaked my arm around her waist, yanking her into my chest. I’ve been thinking about that every waking moment since.
She was warm and smelled so sweet and fitted against me way too fucking easily. I remember the way she shook when that guy hit the fence. She was wired, in awe, half scared, half turned on, trembling softly in my arms.
She didn’t pull away like I expected. Her fingers tightened around my arm, and her breath caught when I leaned down and told her to breathe. And then Hyde said she was worried, and it made me feel so fucking good.
No one worries when I’m in that cage. Everyone knows the rage living inside me. They know it needs an outlet and that I rarely get hit, so they’re not concerned.
Millie was.
The look on her face hasn’t left my head since. Her eyes followed my every move. She watched every punch, every drop of Trevor’s blood hitting the concrete. She saw my violence, saw exactly what I am up close and now...
Now she’s in Noah’s bed.
“Why?” I finally ask, forcing the word past clenched teeth.
He shifts on the couch, stretching his arms over his head. “Abby was having an orgy in their room. Hyde had some chick with him and Millie was going to sleep in the library, so I offered her my bed and hijacked your couch.”
My eyes narrow. “You couldn’t sleep on your couch?”
I have no idea why I’m asking. It’s not like I’d prefer him to sleep in the same room as Millie. That thought has me clenching my fists. It’s bad enough she doesn’t speak around me but has no such qualms about Noah. He gets to hear her voice... and now he gets her in his bed.
His sheets will smell like her for days.
Kicking aside the blanket he must’ve stolen from the bottom of my wardrobe, he plants both feet on the floor. “That was my initial idea, but...” He rakes a hand through his hair, taking a long, cliffhanger pause.
“But what?” I snap, yanking on a pair of sweatpants, my hardon long gone.
“But she saw Abby getting fucked by two guys. She was really turned on and couldn’t calm down, so I gave her space.”
I drag a tee over my head and march away, starting the coffee machine, my jaw working, teeth aching from how hard I’m clenching them.
“You spend every evening with her,” I say, pulling two cups from the cupboard and setting them down hard. “You play chess, sit in the library for hours. She went to you last night and you... what?” I glance over my shoulder. “Decided to leave her horny and needy? Don’t fucking bullshit me, Noah.”
“She didn’t come to me,” he says, his voice calm.
It pisses me off, so I turn back to the counter, watching the machine sputter while Noah gets dressed.
“I was coming up from the common room and found her in the elevator.” He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and drains the whole thing in one go. “And yeah, I spend time with her, but nothing much happened last night.”
Nothing much?
“But something did, right?” I grit out.
“I offered to play chess with her, but she couldn’t calm down. Locked herself in my bathroom, tried cooling off, but it wasn’t working, so I...” he trails off. “Anyway, she stopped me, and I knew it was you she wanted.”
“Stopped you? What...” the fuck! “...did you do?”
He meets my gaze. “Pinned her against the door,” he says, weighing every word. “Pushed my thigh between hers...”
I grit my teeth, my blood boiling.
“She stopped me, Creed,” he reiterates quickly. “And nothing else happened... yet.”
Yet. Even he knows she’ll choose him.
Rage coils around my neck like a fucking noose. I held her once. For a short moment, I held her and she stayed when she should’ve moved away.
I’m no good for her.
Noah is.
Once she heals, she’ll choose him. For now, she’s struggling.
She’s not broken the way Hyde thinks, but she’s not whole.
She’s torn between what she should be, what she wants to be, and what she is deep down.
That little ghost hiding beneath oversized clothes, head down, lips sealed, isn’t her.
Too bad seeing through that mask doesn’t give me any rights.
I reel in my temper, breathing in and out through my nose as I hand Noah a steaming cup of coffee, my grip only a touch tighter than it should be.
He’ll be good for her. He has his shit together, knows what he wants, and she’s comfortable around him.
She speaks to him.
Not me. I’m toxic, unhinged, paranoid, and aggressive. I don’t get to have nice things because I break them into pieces.
And I already broke her once.
I park my hip at the counter, disobeying my every instinct. “Whatever you do, don’t hurt her, Noah, because it’s not just Hyde you’ll have to watch out for.”
Being a good boy is hard fucking work.
“I’ve seen you watching her, Creed.” He savors the first sip of coffee before speaking again. “You won’t just quit. You’re not made that way. Ultimately, it’ll be her decision. But right now?” His eyes lift to mine. “She has no idea who she wants.”
“It’ll also be Hyde’s decision to castrate us both for going after his little sister.”
“The little sister we didn’t know existed until she almost died.
Everything he’s doing since is from pure guilt.
” He takes a long sip, watching me over the rim.
“Something tells me pissing him off might be worth it this time. And...” An amused smirk curls his lips, “...pissing him off never bothered us before, right?”
He’s not wrong.
I don’t say anything as I finish my coffee and sling my gym bag over my shoulder. Noah throws himself back onto the couch, one arm tucked under his head. Lazy fucker.
I don’t ask if he wants to hit the gym. I’ve tried before, but he prefers working out after classes, so I leave him be, opting for different company.
Instead of entering the elevator, I head down the hall to room 529. Noah’s room. The door’s unlocked, bedside lamp on, and Millie’s curled into a ball in the middle of the spacious bed.
Her blonde hair’s braided, lips pursed, eyelashes casting long shadows over her cheekbones... so fucking gorgeous.
Noah was right. There’s no way I’d step aside and let him have her. I should. I know I should, but as twisted as it is, despite her silence stirring the worst parts of my character, she also calms my psyche faster than anything else.
I’m already deep down a rabbit hole with her. Have been for almost a year and I’d be lying if I pretended my fascination with Millie started and ended with how beautiful she is.
The girl draws me more than fire attracts moths.
When people don’t talk, you adapt. You learn to observe and deduce. Since Millie walked into my life, conscious, pink-cheeked, wide-eyed, I’ve kind of stalked her every move.
At first, I was trying to figure out everything she wasn’t saying, but compulsive watching has grown beyond curiosity and enforced the quiet obsession that started at her hospital bed.
I have her facial expressions down to a T.
I know which smiles are genuine, which are fake, which are designed to divert attention from things she already accidentally given away without speaking.
She doesn’t eat processed fruit. It’s either their natural form or juiced. No jams, blueberry muffins, or apple pies. She takes her coffee stronger than I do, barely any milk, but too much sugar, like she’s not sweet enough already.
She tries not to react to Dash’s dumb jokes. She really tries, but her mouth always twitches before she breaks into a smile, and that half-second of resistance makes me wish I was funny.
Her favorite color is dusty pink. I’ve known that even before she arrived here, thanks to all the duty pink sweaters Hyde ordered and sent her way.
Her lips move when she reads. She often absentmindedly doodles with her fingers over her thighs, hips or other flat surfaces, and when she’s nervous, she worries the crease of her thumb with her nails.
She never does that when Noah’s around.
The mattress dips under my weight as I sit on the edge of his bed.
Millie stirs, her lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks.
Her breath catches and lips part when she looks at me.
I expected a furrow in her brows, surprise, shyness, maybe anger, but what I get is different.
Her expression is open, pupils blown, gaze unfocused like she’s caught in the throes of her dream.
And I’d bet my right arm that it was dirty.
She doesn’t speak, but her body gives her away, legs shifting beneath the blanket, curling higher, thighs pressing together.
“That must’ve been one hell of a dream.”
I drag my gaze over her flushed skin and pulse flying at the base of her throat. Fuck. Desire curls low in my spine and my mind dives into the gutter as I imagine sliding my hand between her legs, finding the heat she’s desperately trying to hide, and taking care of her ache with my fingers.
Would she let me pin her down? Let me fuck enough pleasure into her that she’d walk funny for a week?
I picture her face twisted in ecstasy, eyes rolling back, mouth open and gasping, body arching beneath mine as I work her open inch by inch. I can almost hear the breathy little sounds punching out of her throat.
A muscle jumps in my jaw. The air between us is thick enough to choke on, but her eyes flick away, cheeks growing redder, less alluring and more ashamed.
“Don’t hide from me, Millie,” I say, breathing through the heat clawing under my skin. “Don’t act like what you feel is wrong, baby. It’s not.”
She meets my gaze again, defiance lining her pretty face. Slowly, she sits up, holding the blanket close to her chest and I realize nothing covers her shoulders. Not one flimsy strap.
She’s bare, from the waist up at the very least.
Fuck. The air moves and her scent fills my nose, an afterthought of perfume mixing with sleep, and... arousal.
My cock jerks in my sweats.
“I’d give you a few minutes to take care of yourself, but I’d lose my fucking mind knowing what you’re doing.” I rise to my feet, jaw tight, eyes locked on her. “Come on.” Before I forget my place. “Let’s work that frustration out of your system.”