Love, your biggest fan EVER,
Stardust. XO
“You kept these?” My voice breaks with the flood of emotions coursing through me. I feel ridiculous because the truth is staring me in the face.
Creed kisses my cheek, then my neck.
“I kept them all. The rest are at home, but this one,” he says, nodding at the letter with my ten-year-old handwriting, “needed to be here.”
I look at him, feeling even more all-encompassing love swelling up in my chest for this man.
Before I can say anything, the door opens, and a man walks through. He’s older, looking to be in his early fifties, but my God, he’s built like a fucking tank.
His eyes scan the room before landing on Creed, and he strides over, his massive frame quickly swallowing up the space that surrounds us. He’s a goddamned giant because he’s easily a head taller than Creed, who stands just over six feet tall.
“St. James, how are we today?” The deep drawl of his voice damn near vibrates the very walls of the studio. He holds out a hand to Creed.
“Good,” Creed answers, taking the man’s hand and shaking it before wrapping his arm around both Riley and me. “Glad to be back in the studio. It feels really damn good to get back to normal.”
Guilt gnaws at me again, because it’s me who’s kept him from living his normal, routine life. Creed gently squeezes my waist as a gentle reminder to calm my thoughts.
The massive man smiles and nods before shifting his attention. “You must be Riley Graves,” he says, holding his hand out to Ri. He eyes his hand before taking it and shaking once. I don’t miss the mini spark of pride in his eyes at how steady his hand remained while greeting the man. “I’m Fletcher McGowan. It's nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise,” Riley answers, smiling. “Creed’s told me about you. As long as you’re nothing like Shitstain Steve and you don’t ogle my girl, I think we’ll get along fine.”
I’m shocked by Riley’s bold words, but the entire room erupts in laughter. Ayla and I seem to be the only ones feeling some type of way, and it doesn’t match the energy of the room. My shoulders slump in ease, and I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding when she eventually joins in on the joke with a smile, then blushes when her eyes settle on Fletcher’s side profile.
I tuck that curious little nugget away to bug her about later.
“I’m just here to keep shit in order and make sure things flow smoothly. Outside of that, I’m nobody if you don’t want me to be.”
I like the way he said that. The way he left all the power in Creed and Riley’s hands, that if they want him around outside of business, he won’t insert himself into it unless he’s invited to. It’sthe stark opposite of Steve, and I can feel how much the entire band already likes and respects this Fletcher guy.
His eyes flick to me, and his hard features soften. The attention he gives makes him seem even larger, which makes me feel twice as small, considering my head barely reaches his chest.
“I’m Collins,” I blurt, shoving my own hand out toward him before he even has a chance to open his mouth.
Fletcher just chuckles and places his hand in mine. Well, no, heswallowsmy hand with his own. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Bear walks over just as he finishes throwing half of his hair up and into a bun and crosses his arms over his chest.
“We’re ready when you are.”
Creed nods as Fletcher quietly bows out and slips onto the same couch in the corner, where Ayla is working on her tablet. She hands him a binder with several folders in it, and he wordlessly gets to work looking through them. No painful flirting, no lingering glances, nothing. It’s not stopping Ayla from trying to hide her reddening ears with her short black bob, though.
She looks up to see me watching her, and she presses her lips together to suppress a smile and gives her head a subtle shake.
Creed’s voice pulls me back to their conversation.
“You know how it goes in here, Riley.” he says, turning to Riley on my right. “We can record one of two ways today. Together or separate. You’ve been doing fucking amazing, but I’ll leave it completely up to you how you prefer to work today.”
I look up at Riley, who purses his lips in thought. His dark eyes dart back and forth while looking at nothing, as if checking his mental pros and cons list.
“I think…” he starts, “can we try this one separately? And if it goes well, then we can record together for the next track?”
“Whatever you need, man,” Bear says simply, releasing one of his arms to clap Riley on the shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
My poor heart threatens to melt into a puddle at my feet. Riley deserves nothing less than the best family by his side, and he’s found it in these men.
