Page 22 of Creed

With a sigh, I open it so my neighbors don’t get too curious. My lips part to tell him to go away, but he shoulders past me.

I huff out an ironic laugh and swing the door shut. “Come in, why don’t you?” I snap out, but the attitude drains when I face him. Fury is etched on his face, a thunderous expression that makes me fold my arms across my chest like armor.

Creed’s eyes dip to where the shirt raises higher on my thighs, his jaw tightening as he takes in my damp hair and nipples poking through the thin material. He looks like a predatorpoised to pounce on his prey. I’m sure if he knew I didn’t have underwear on, he wouldn’t hesitate.

“You can’t just show up at my house. Do you know how that would look to my station?”

His lips purse. “Are you pregnant?”

Shock makes my blood run cold, and my arms fall to hang limply at my sides. I can’t close my mouth as I stare at him. How could he know that? How could he possibly fucking know that?

Creed nods, his tongue dragging along ‌his lips as he looks around my apartment. “I’ll take your stunned silence as a yes. I don’t take you as a woman who sleeps around. I think that night in the bar was a one-time thing, and I bet that kid is mine, isn’t it?”

Tears blur my vision, and I don’t know why. There’s no reason to cry, and yet I can’t help the sob that hiccups in my throat.

He pounces then, moving toward me with a quick grace that would normally impress me, but I’m too caught up in how he coddles me, taking me into his arms as I break.

Thick, shoulder-shaking sobs pour out as I press my face into his chest. I’m not even sure why I’m crying.

Creed just holds me tightly, his thumbs rubbing my back until eventually I calm.

I step away from him, wiping the tears and clearing my throat. “Sorry about that.”

Creed’s lips quirk. “About crying?”

I nod weakly. I feel physically and emotionally drained. I’ve never bawled like that, never been held while I cried, and now I’m uncomfortable, unsure what to say or do.

He watches me for a few more seconds, then moves to sit on my couch. The distance between us is loosening the tight hold on my lungs.

“Ain’t a thing, darlin’. Sometimes we all need to cry.”

My eyebrows furrow, a challenge rearing its ugly head. “Yeah? When’s the last time you cried?”

He shifts on the couch, resting his neck on the back cushion as he stares up at the ceiling. “Four years ago. Got a call, brother stationed overseas, MIA.”

I swallow the rough knot growing in my throat. “Sorry to hear that.”

He shrugs. “The way of life. In the end, none of us make it.”

It’s bleak, but true. It feels heavier coming from a man who’s been armed with a playful quip the times I’ve met him.

“I’m not pregnant. I thought I was, but I’m not.”

His eyes lock on to mine. “And you’re sure?”

My lips part and close, and I swallow roughly. “I took two tests. It’s possible they could both be false, sure. But I think it’s very unlikely.”

Creed nods. “Would you have told me?”

I laugh, unable to hold it back. It’s a hollow, short bark-like noise because god, what kind of question is that? “I don’tknow. I didn’t really have time to think through the what-ifs of everything when it came out negative.”

“That’s fair,” he says quietly, tearing his eyes away to stare out the small window next to my couch.

I bite down on my lip, staring at him. “Were you hoping I was?”

It takes a lot of effort not to cringe at the question. I can’t believe I asked that, but I can’t take it back now.

Creed cocks his head to the side, his eyes dragging the length of me. “Were you?”