“I thought you’d love wearing these better than the hospital gowns,” he says, pulling his own change of dry clothes on.
“So much better.”I smile as he takes the shirt from my hands and gingerly helps me put it on, careful not to snag my stitches or my IV. The moment my head pops through the top, Creed is there to place a quick peck against my lips. “Thank you, love.”
I freeze, rolling my lips in and slamming my eyes shut as my face heats, probably turning an even deeper shade of red becausewhat the fuck?I didn’t mean to let that nickname slip, and even though my feelings for Creed are pretty clear,those wordshaven’t been spoken yet, and I know he told me I should wait until the three of us were home, but I’m still a little more than mortified.
Creed is painfully quiet, so I bravely crack an eyelid open to gauge his reaction. What I see has my heart fluttering in my chest. His face is completely alight with a contented, goofy, lopsided smile. “Ireally,like the sound of that, Stardust.” He gently taps his forehead against mine, then kisses the tip of my nose. “I definitely wouldn’t mind hearing it more often.”
And just like that, Creed makes everything better.
He helps me to slip on the fuzziest slippers I’ve ever seen, complete with shoe soles on the bottom. “We can’t have you slipping, twinkle toes.” he says as he winks at me, and I wiggle said toes inside the slippers when I step into them.
He helps me to brush through my hair until it’s free of knots and tangles before kissing the top of my head and holding my hand as he opens the bathroom door. The curtain is drawn, cutting off the view of his father, whose legs are the only visible part of him at the moment where he stands by the door.
I notice that the nurse, Chrissy, is back with several gauze bandages set up on the tray to redress my wounds. My face heats all over again when she eyes me suspiciously as Creed helps me into the freshly made bed. After my screaming spell, I’m physically incapable of making loud sounds again, so I don’t think she heard me when Creed had…helpedme earlier.
She goes over the daily routine of healthcare questions and tells me she’ll get in contact with speech to assess me again. I’m looked over as she rebandages some of my wounds, and she doesn’t ask questions when I purposely look away while she rewraps my shoulder. I know what I’ll find when I look, but right now, I refuse to face the result of what he did to me.
I watch as Creed disappears behind the curtain for a moment to talk to who I’m assuming is his dad. Anxiety rushes in. Rationality tells me that he’s just on the other side of the curtain, but it doesn’t feel that way when I don’t have my eyes on him. I can feel my skin crawling with creeping fear because not having him near leaves room for the dissociation to take over. For the illusion to fade and the chance that I’ll wake up in that cold, dark room again.
I don’t breathe again until he reappears, pulling up the chair next to my bed and lacing his fingers through mine as he places a soft kiss to each of my fingertips.
It seems to be the growing love language between us.
Kisses.
They’re grounding and it’s becoming quite the addiction.
“Please use the call light if you need assistance with anything, Collins,” Chrissy says, pulling my attention back to her momentarily. She smiles, but I can see the frustration brewing in her demeanor. “That’s what I’m here for. Okay?”
I nod, feeling a little knot of guilt work its way into my stomach knowing I’ve caused her unneeded stress and trouble. It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize, but she turns to leave the room before I can whisper a single word.
“You don’t owe her a damn thing, baby,” Creed reads my mind as he murmurs against my fingertips, brushing them across his lips almost absentmindedly. After a beat, he straightens and crosses the room once more, but instead of disappearing, he grabs the curtain and looks back to me with a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “You ready to meet my dad, Stardust?”
I huff a quiet laugh. “I guess so.”
My jaw hits the floor when a familiar face steps around the curtain that Creed holds open. I’d never met Creed’s father, even as a kid. But taking in the man standing before me, everythingfrom a single night two years ago starts to make sense. The dark hair, the same demeanor and stature. It’s like I’m staring at an older, slightly larger version of Creed, except with darker eyes.
He offers me a small smile, the same one I remember from the last time I saw him two years ago, and I don’t know if I want to laugh, cry, or stare at him in utter disbelief. Maybe all three.Heis Creed’s dad? The impossibility of it has me dumbfounded, yet the truth is staring me in the face. Literally.
“Oh. My—“Nothing, I meannothingcould’ve prepared me for this. “…Garrick?”
“Hey there, Sunshine.”
Chapter 13
Creed
“YOU WERE THE ONE THING I NEEDED.”
Idon’t think she’s pieced together that the man in the taxi who helped her two years ago is also my father. I think it’s the recognition of the man who saved her life that has tears springing to Collins’ eyes. She’s out of bed faster than I can warn her to not hurt herself. I’m quick to grab her IV pole and follow close behind as she leaps arms first into my dad. He catches her with ease when she stumbles on her own feet, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her. I watch him press his cheek to the top of her head as he pulls her in tighter, sinking into that role of a loving father for my girl without thought.
Something clicks right then, like another piece of the puzzle that eternally connects me to Collins snaps into place. I know right here and now that I’ve fallen even more for her as she sinks deeper into my father’s embrace.
They met years ago, a brief, serendipitous encounter, and yet neither one of them had forgotten the other.
“How is this possible?”she rasps, pulling back to look at his face, her pretty green eyes wide as saucers, and her dainty hands grip his biceps like she’s afraid he’ll disappear. She turns, meeting my gaze, her pert nose a rosy pink from crying that only enhances her freckles. Her septum ring had been removed by thestaff, and I make a mental note to have Blair bring her a new one today. “Heis your dad? Did…did you know that he…”
“Yeah, baby, I do,” I finish when her words trail off, already knowing her question. What she doesn’t know is how he not only saved her once, but twice now. “It’s a crazy small world, but I couldn’t be more thankful.”
