Shooting Star - Staci Hart Page 0,2

in monogamy, even though I was the girl he dated and they were the girls for sport.

But in the small hours of the morning, whispering in the dark, he was mine, and I was his. And that was enough.

Did I wish I could have him all to myself? Absolutely. But he had his beliefs, and I couldn’t change them. Mine were flexible enough to accommodate him. So it was open and honest between us. I took what I could get because what I got, I loved. And when he looked at me like he was just then, I was in the only place I wanted to be. Even if I knew it was temporary.

Mercifully, our friends mobbed us, talking all at once—Betty with a sailor on her arm, Joss glistening and apple-cheeked, and Roman, who was also dressed as a sailor but with a fifth of the fabric.

Roman was only shorter than Z for her heels—a tan, built, sharp-jawed hunk who basked in Z’s attention like a snake in the sun. Really, that puppy look Z had just silently berated me for glowed on her face as she laughed at something he’d said, the two of them in their own little bubble the second he’d entered her orbit.

Betty and I shared a look at the sight of them.

Roman was one of those guys—you know the type. Too much charm, too frequent a smile, with cunning eyes and a silver tongue. Before Z, Roman was a notorious whore, an untamable beast. But Z had domesticated him. Supposedly. The occasional dalliance was allowed as long as it wasn’t serious and under the condition that they were honest about it.

But I wasn’t one to judge, and until recently, Z hadn’t been either. Z loved him, and we loved Z. So that, as they said, was that.

Betty made a noise, and when I looked, her face wore a hint of a snarl as her eyes fixed on the bar. “Who invited Dominique?”

Her name sent the standard jolt up my spine, and I whipped my face toward the bar. Dex was facing her with his cavalier smile that made every girl feel special, and she leaned right back, laughing like an asshole as she trailed a hand down his shirtfront. She wore a gorgeous emerald dress with a tiny belt around her tiny waist, her skirts swaying with even the smallest motion. Somehow, she managed to look both demure and sultry, and the effect had caught Dex’s attention.

This did not improve my mood.

To my pleasure, he removed her hand from his chest. To my displeasure, his smile was still velvety and inviting. She pouted prettily as he picked up his drink, nodding at her before heading back to me.

I didn’t avert my gaze, didn’t pretend like I hadn’t seen the exchange. I just smiled at him like it was all good as he approached. Because I wouldn’t flinch, not because of Dominique. Even if she was smirking at me with the confidence of a girl looking for a fight.

It didn’t matter.

He always came back to me.

Dex slammed his whiskey and grabbed my hand, towing me toward the dance floor to spin me just like he’d said. With a smile on his face and his eyes full of love, he grabbed me by the waist and the hand and whirled us until I was laughing, hanging on to him so I didn’t fly away. And when he slowed, my body was pressed to his, his lips at my ear to remind me of all the ways I wished I could keep him, even though I knew it was all wrong.

Warmth bloomed in my heart, the glow of it spreading over me like sunshine.

The air bubbled and fizzed like champagne, every face and smile around me living the same moment, and that moment was pure joy. These were my people. This was my home. We weren’t only here for the thrill of it—we needed each other. We craved the connection of our friendship and the comfort and safety we found. And with all of us here together, celebrating life, I was filled with a sense of belonging I only found in this space, with these people.

Here, we belonged.

And I’d brought us all here tonight. I’d orchestrated the circumstance, built the environment for it to exist.

I didn’t want to lose the feeling—I wanted it to last forever. I wanted it intensely, and I wanted it often. I wanted to fill that well and keep it full.

I had the