Chapter 22
Collins
“WHAT IS HOME WITHOUT YOU?”
The car ride is filled with silence, but there’s not much room for anything else with the amount of excitement and anticipation overflowing the cabin space.
My knees bounce nervously, jostling the gigantic bag of M&M’s I’m clutching in my lap, while repeatedly squeezing Creed’s fingers until my knuckles are white.
Riley comes home today.
Creed’s phone rings, and he answers it on the car’s speaker system. “Dad, what’s up?”
“There a reason why I’m being tailed by one of Asher’s men on the interstate?” Garrick’s grumbling voice cuts through the air, but Creed only chuckles.
He’s on his way home right now, but he popped by this morning to bring donuts and coffee, checking to make sure we didn’t need a ride to pick up Riley today. It’s still so surreal being around him and Creed simultaneously, the familiarity I felt around Garrick years ago making sense now.
Seeing the two of them standing side by side again was like getting a glimpse of what Creed will look like when he’s older, and I have to admit, I’m not mad about it.
Garrick is timelessly handsome and a little rugged to top it off.
He’s got a few tattoos, but nothing close to the amount of ink that covers Creed’s skin.
The same dark hair, sharp jawline, straight cut of perfectly white teeth…
but Creed’s eyes? Those come from his mama.
Bright, ice blue and almond-shaped like hers.
I know this now because I got to see her for the first time.
His dad keeps an old photo of her as the background on his phone.
My heart nearly snapped in two when I caught the bittersweet mix of heartbreak and all-consuming love in his eyes when he introduced her to me.
Nova was her name. The only woman to ever capture the heart of Garrick St. James.
She was beautiful. Garrick said she was a short little thing like me.
A heart-shaped face with a head full of curly, dark hair that she loved to pull up with a scrunchie.
She grew up in the eighties and nineties but dressed as if she were from the sixties.
Creed gets his smile from her, too. The perfect pout to her bottom lip with a softly pronounced cupid’s bow.
Pretty, tanned skin with a soft dusting of freckles just on her nose and one beneath her left eye.
Creed told me he was young when she passed away, but it was impossible to miss the yearning in his eyes as he stared at the photo this morning. For the briefest moment, he bore the longing for a mother who I am positive was just as beautiful on the inside.
Rolling my head against the headrest, I look at the breathtaking man next to me. He’s driving with one hand on the wheel and the other with his fingers laced through mine, grinning despite me cutting off his circulation with every anxious squeeze.
“They’re not Asher’s men, Dad.” Creed’s grin stretches a little wider. “They’re the McTavish men.”
A stretching moment of silence, then…“Creed—”
“Lachlan called it a parting gift.”
“A parting—how did he even know I was leaving?”
“I told him.”
“Credence—”
What??
My head snaps to Creed, whose eyes are rolling as he groans and drops his head back to his headrest. He peeks at me, looking awfully annoyed.
I’ve known him my whole life, and I had no idea that he had a full name that wasn’t just Creed.
I knew he had no middle name. Creed had told me once that his mom just knew he’d have a big enough personality with a name like Creed St. James that he didn’t need one.
She wasn’t wrong about that.
I roll my lips together, trying so, so hard to fight the bubbling laughter. Not because it’s a lame name, but because of the way his dad used it, like he was a child being scolded for sneaking candy.
Quirking a brow, I will my voice to not give away my amusement when I whisper, “Credence, huh?”
“Don’t you fucking start, Stardust,” he murmurs under his breath.
I shrug, feigning innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He releases my hand, just to clutch my inner thigh, dangerously close to the apex of where I crave him most. They automatically clench, and now it’s his turn to smirk.
He slows to a stop at a red light, leans over the center console, and growls into the shell of my ear, “You wanna tease me about it? We’ll see just how long that lasts when I have you screaming it with my cock buried deep inside of you. ”
And now I’m soaked.
Cocky bastard.
His fingers lazily stroke my skin, tracing lazy patterns up and down my scars. The pain is gone, but the goosebumps still take over because this touch feels good. Creed’s touch only heals, the contact soothing.
“I’m not in danger, you know?” Garrick says, drawing our attention back to the phone call.
“I know, but it would give me peace of mind to know you got home safe.”
“And a simple text or phone call wouldn’t appease you?” he says, chuckling, but Creed reassures him.
“They’re only escorting you home. They won’t stick around if you don’t want them to.” He sobers up a little as I watch a dark thought pass through his mind. “I just don’t want to risk it, Dad.”
Another brief quiet moment, then a soft sigh barely filters through before he says quietly, “Alright.” Garrick clears his throat, then. “Keep ‘em in line, Sunshine.”
I smile, even though he can’t see it, but Creed doesn’t miss it, and he gives my thigh another squeeze. “That’s a pretty big job, G.”
I smirk at Creed, who mouths I’ll show you a big job, tipping his chin down and gesturing to the erection that’s starting to tent his joggers.
A heavy blush rushes up, coating my chest and cheeks, but I shake my head and force myself to roll my eyes at his crude comment.
Hot as fuck, but I can’t think about the beauty of Creed’s cock with his dad still present with us in the space of his SUV.
“I think you’ll handle it just fine,” Garrick responds playfully, but it only feeds into Creed’s dirty innuendo. “I’m a few hours from home, but I’ll text when I get there. Bring your boy home. Unplug and focus on healing.”
“That’s the goal, Pop.”
“Ew, Credence,” Garrick groans before hanging up on his son.
My shoulders shake with silent laughter for a moment, then Creed joins in.
Before we know it, we’re both belly laughing.
I’m not sure what could be so hilarious, but I’ve never felt happier than I do in this very moment.
Creed is smiling. I’m smiling. There’s so much positive energy swirling around us that it could be a tangible thing.
Despite the conversation with Garrick being light, I think I know the real reason we’re both feeling this way.
It all boils down to the third piece to our little puzzle.
Someone so sweet, he makes my teeth ache. Makes my heart pound.
Riley. Is. Coming. Home.
Today.
“Hallelujah,” I breathe as we come around the final corner of the winding drive that leads up to the facility.
“Excited, Stardust?”
“Like you’re not?” I fire back eagerly, ready to tuck and roll from the vehicle before we’ve even pulled into a parking spot.
“You know I am, baby.”
Creed drives up to one of the last spaces available in the back of the lot.
Apparently, not only is today Riley’s discharge day, but it’s a rare day for visitors to see the patients as well.
It’s a coordinated day to keep all traffic in and out of the building isolated to the one day.
None of us had any clue that this was a thing here—fuck you very much, Pippa— but it doesn’t really matter, because while they are merely visiting, we get to bring our boy home.
Unbuckling, a sudden, hot wave of anxiety rips through me so fast that the color drains from my face. Turning to face Creed, his brows furrow when he takes in my sudden change in demeanor.
He opens his mouth, probably to ask me what’s wrong, but before he can form words, I blurt, “What if he hates me now?”
It’s absurd, really, but the thought creates its own validity in my mind.
I swallow. “Like, what if he blames me for everything he’s gone through and he’s changed his mind and wants nothing to do with me?”
At first, I think Creed might laugh at me, but his eyes soften as he reaches up to cup my jaw with his flawlessly inked fingers.
“There is no way in hell that the boy who’s about to walk out those doors could ever—never in a million years— hate you.
He’s had eyes for you from the moment you crawled into his lap at the club.
” He smirks, brushing his thumb over my chin and lower lip.
“He’s got it just as bad as you do, if not worse. Smitten from day one.”
He pops his door open and skirts around the hood, opening mine before I have a chance to even touch the handle, then helps me to hop down.
Creed’s arms band around me the moment my feet hit the pavement, wrapping me up in an embrace that instantly settles my nerves. His head tips up, and I can feel him smiling against my cheek.
“Turn around, baby.”
I don’t even need to ask why.
Spinning around, Creed releases me, just as a familiar figure materializes the second the glass doors open. Signature Vans, gray joggers sitting low on narrow hips, and a vintage band tee that covers the most beautifully freckled skin that I’ve ever seen.
When my eyes lift to Riley’s face, I’m gone.
I take off at a sprint, ignoring the soreness in my newly reforming muscles and let my feet carry me to the man I’ve missed more than I could ever explain.
A sob pushes through my smile when he starts to run, a pace that says he’s as desperate to close the distance between us as I am.
Creed’s steps echo my own behind me. He could easily pass me up but follows my lead instead.