“He’s like his own solar system,” Josie, Reena’s friend, shouts into my ear. The awe in her voice is viscous. It sticks to the skin of my cheek and shoulder as she stands behind me. I swallow down the ball of irritation that I feel every time anyone talks about Graham like they know him.

I glance at her—my forced reply on the tip of my tongue. And there it is destined to remain.

Her eyes are fixed on something on the other side of the club, the light in them positively feral.

I don’t bother to stifle my groan.

Even if the room had been quiet, she couldn’t have heard me anyway. Graham has this effect on people. He’s beauty, brilliance, and a whole lot of stardust—all held together by a gravitational force that makes people forget everything but him.

Josie clasps her hands together and bounces on the toes of her bright red, patent leather stilettos and squeals.

“Oh my God, thank you so much for letting Reena invite me to this party, Apollo. I mean, I can’t believe I’m in the same room as Graham Davis.” Her voice thins to a strangled scream. “Oh my God, oh my God. Oh. My. Freakin’ God. I think he’s looking at me.” She draws out the final vowel on the word me, and it sounds more like strangled meow.

“I’m sure he is,” I say disinterestedly and take a sip of my drink. I take a few seconds to savor the tingling effervescence of the ice cold tonic water infused with just the right amount of top shelf vodka dancing over my tongue. Why couldn’t life be like this drink? Simple, easy, uncomplicated but yummy?

“I’m gonna go talk to him. He and what’s her name just called it quits, right? I mean, he’s single again. This has to mean something, don’t you think?” she says, her eyes still fixed on him, but her hand clamps my shoulder. She squeezes it and squeals again.

“Sure, go ahead,” I mumble around the straw I’ve obliterated with agitation, envy, and more than a little despair. I toss down the useless, shredded piece of plastic and for a minute succumb to all my feelings.

The hand on my shoulder grips tightly and suddenly I’m spinning on the swiveling seat of the barstool I’ve been perched on all evening.

“Whoa, what—” I squawk in surprise when my drink splatters all over my bare arms.

“Come with me, please. I don’t know him. He’s your best friend.” I glance around to look for Reena who disappeared as soon as we walked in. She’s the worst wingman in the world. “You have to introduce me,” she pleads, her cornflower blue eyes as big as saucers and full of pleading.

I’ve been sitting here all night trying to work up the nerve to approach Graham. After he left last night, I wanted to run after him. But I decided it wouldn’t be fair to keep pulling him and pushing him and that I should let him see that I’d slept on it and wasn’t making this decision because I was scared. But, I’d been skulking in the shadows all night, afraid to approach him. Afraid he’d decide I wasn’t worth the trouble.

“Pleeeease!” Josie screeches and just to shut her up, I stand up.

“Sure, let’s go,” I say, and she pulls me to my feet, and we start to cross the club. The strobe lights flash over the sea of dancing, sweating bodies of the who’s who of New York’s entertainment industry.

Graham is one of the only people who could gather a crowd like this. Everyone wants to stand in the light of a star. In this city, there are three things that people value above all else: money, power, and beauty. Graham is the living, perfected, embodiment of all three.

He’s laughing at something that one of the guys in his huddle is saying. His head is thrown back, and his bearded jaw is on glorious display. His long, dark blond hair falls to his shoulders. Even in the dark of the club, it shimmers under the touches of light

“Oh my God, Apollo, look at his jacket. Only he could wear pink velvet and make it look like the most masculine color ever.” Josie’s nails dig into the forearm she’s got wrapped in a death grip.

I don’t respond. What could I say that wasn’t obvious?

Graham could make a yellow polka dot bikini look masculine.

As if he can sense our approach, his sugar gray eyes swing in our direction.

When they land on me, they widen, the way they always do when he sees me.

He breaks away from his group of friends and walks a dozen feet to close the gap between us. The sea of bodies part for him, yielding to his broad shoulders as he strides toward us.

As he approaches, his smile widens, but he doesn’t grin or show any teeth. That smile is his real smile. You’ll find it in every picture of Graham from the moment he was born until the moment his agent told him grins were sexier and sold more pictures.

These days, this smile is just for me. It’s warm, genuine, and very quick. It never fails to make me feel like the most important person in the world.

That familiar thrill of anticipation right before he touches me leaps to life just as he reaches us. His big, warm hand slides around my waist to the small of my back. It slips under my silk, loose fitting tank top, brushing the skin at the small of my back for just a second before it comes to rest in between my shoulder blades.

“Hey, Sunshine.” His lips brush my ear. “You havin’ a good time?” I shiver a little bit at the contact, but that isn’t new. I’ve been shivering under Graham’s touch since the day we met. I slip my arms around his strong neck and hug him back.

“I’m so proud of you, Star. This is amazing,” I shout into his ear, trying to be heard over the music.

His grip around my waist tightens, and he says, not shouting but, loudly enough that I can hear the smile in his voice when he presses his lips to my ear, “I’m so fucking happy you’re here.”

He presses a featherlight kiss to my temple as I pull back and I want to throw my hands back around him. I can’t contain the slight gasp at the kick in the gut I feel every time I have to let him go.

The last few weeks have been an exercise in self-control. My defenses didn’t stand a chance. I knew that I’d surrender. I was nervous to come here. I thought seeing him in his element, surrounded by all of these fawning people, would just make me doubt him. But, it doesn’t. I look up at his smiling face, and I know he’s mine. I smile broadly at him, my joy sincere, even as I take one more step back.

“I sent Lucas a text. Told him I couldn’t do it anymore. To give him a heads-up before his mother sees pictures in tomorrow’s lifestyle section,” I say.

His eyes narrow. “Are you—”

“Apollo, don’t hog him all night,” Josie sneers at me before she turns her veneered, bright white smile on Graham. “I’m Josie.” She wiggles her fingers in greeting. He looks at me like “Who is this chick?” and then he flashes her his Graham Davis smile. “Nice to meet you, Josie.”

“You, too,” she preens.

When Graham grabs her hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss, she sways and teeters toward him as if she’s being lead. I roll my eyes.

“Would you ladies like to come sit in my section? We have table service, and you might be more comfortable.”

“Why yes, I’d love that.” She bats her eyelashes and I marvel at how brazen she is.

Graham cocks his dark brown eyebrows at me, his smile flirtatious as he says, “After you.” He lifts one of his long, muscular, pink velvet-encased arms and points in the direction of the VIP.

My purse vibrates. I fish around in it and pull it out of my small, gold-beaded purse.

I caress the dime size depression at the bottom of the screen with my thumb noncommittally but with just enough pressure to unlock it.

The picture we took a few weeks ago. It’s just our faces, pressed together, our smiles wide, our eyes dancing. I wish we were back there.

The notification for the text from Lucas glares up at me. It’s been sitting there for two hours, and I still can’t bring myself to read it. Besides the fact that I don’t think we have anything more to say to each other. I hadn’t wanted to let anything ruin my mood on Graham’s big night. I let the phone fall back into my purse and continue toward the corner where he and Josie had disappeared.

The thumping bass of the loud hip-hop music thunders through my body violently that I feel it in my bones. I don’t know how Graham spends night after night in places like this.

As I take the few short steps toward the very last place I want to be, my organs feel like they’ve turned to water and slosh around inside me, and I feel the burn of bile in my throat.

Graham is already seated, and Josie is practically sitting in his lap. She’s laughing loudly.

I’m going to kill Reena when I find her. She said Josie was new to the firm and needed to get out. As soon as she’d climbed into the Uber I’d ordered for tonight, she started talking about Graham. Now, Reena has completely disappeared.

“Apollo, come join us,” Josie shouts over to me.

“I’m fine here,” I say down across from them.

Graham’s attention has already moved from Josie. He’s bent over his phone, texting, his face hidden under the long fall of hair. Josie leans forward, eyes dancing with excitement, her grin so wide, her teeth look like they’re trying to escape her mouth.

“Holy shiiiiiit,” she mouths as she shimmies her shoulders and points at Graham. As if I and the dozens of eyes trained on her don’t know that she’s talking about him.

I smile, pretending to be as excited as she is.

But right now, the only thing that would excite me is seeing them both spontaneously combust. The mental image that conjures makes me laugh out loud.

Graham’s head whips up at the sound of my laughter, and he arches an eyebrow at me.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, enunciating so I can read his lips. I can’t hear anything above the booming music.

I just shake my head and dismiss him with a wave of my hand, but my laughter dies. He eyes me expectantly, and I shout, “It’s nothing. Really.” His eyes narrow and he leans toward me, rests his chin on his linked fingers and his elbows on his knees as he watches me like he’s trying to decide what to do with me.

“Tell me,” he demands again.

“No,” I say with a giggle.

He stands up, his tall body appearing even longer as he comes to stand in front of me, legs spread, arms crossed over his broad chest. My eyes are eye level with the brass buckle of the dark brown leather belt that he always wears. I purse my lips defiantly and glare up at him.

He caves first, and with a small chuckle, he drops down into the seat next to me. He’s such a big man, but he’s as graceful as a dancer as he drapes his big body over the low, tufted sofa that I’m sitting on.

His arm is slung on the back of the chair. His hand rests lightly on my shoulder, and he toys with the lace that trims the sleeves of my top. It’s cold in the club, but the gooseflesh spreading all over my body, the tingle in my nipples as they start to harden has nothing to do with air conditioning. His touch. It is … my weakness and my greatest desire.

I lean forward to pick up my drink. My sleeve slides out of his grasp, and my heart rate calms.

He tilts his head and studies me as if he’s read my mind.

“Will you stop staring at me?” I hiss and take a sip of my drink to drown out the nervous laugh that’s tickling my throat.

“No.” He shrugs ambivalently and repeats, “Tell me why you were laughing.”

“Oh my God.” I groan and roll my eyes, but as much as I want to, I can’t suppress the smile that plays on my lips. “Why are you so nosy?” I elbow him in the side playfully and laugh. He frowns as if wounded.

“Come on, Sunshine, tell me.” He shifts in his seat, turning slightly, so we’re face-to-face. He’s biting his lower lip, something he does when he’s trying to stop himself from laughing, but I can see the smile in his eyes.

The fist of unease I’ve been carrying around all day loosens. At our core, Graham and I always have this. Us. The friendship that binds us has only been rekindled and set aflame by all of the things that we’ve been through in the last five years. It’s only made me sure that we can survive anything.

“You are so annoying,” I say, not trying to hide my smile.

“Whatever,” he says with a shrug. “You can’t laugh and not tell me the joke. You can’t frown and not tell me what’s wrong.” He lifts an eyebrow and says, “And you’ve been doing a lot of that all night.”

I jerk my head back to him in the eyes. “How do you know what I’ve been doing all night? This is the first time I’ve seen you,” I demand, squinting skeptically over at him. His smile widens, and he scoffs.

But instead of answering me right away, he looks to the table and grabs his drink. I watch his profile as he takes a huge gulp of his club soda and take the opportunity to watch his strong, sharp jaw work to crush the ice he’s chewing. He puts the glass on his knee and stares at it for a few seconds and appears lost in thought.

“Well?” I nudge him. Only Graham could space out in the middle of a loud club packed with a thousand people who are all hoping to catch his eye.

He looks up at me, all traces of amusement are gone, and his eyes are suddenly very intensely focused on mine.

“I saw you the minute you walked in. I’ve watched you all night. Don’t you know I always see you?” he says softly, his eyes holding mine and he lets me see the longing in his eyes. My heart leaps into my throat.

“I know you do.” I lick my suddenly dry lips.

His eyes dart to them, and he leans toward me.

He frowns and his nose crinkles in annoyance as he looks down his chest. He sticks a hand into his blazer and pulls his phone out of a pocket inside. He glances at it and groans and gives me an apologetic grimace. “One sec, I need to get this.” And then he stands up, he puts his glass down on the table, and he walks to the end of the sofa, putting the phone to his ear and begins talking right away.

I reach for my drink again and see Josie’s knees across the table.

Shit! I’d forgotten all about her. I brace myself before I meet her eyes. She’s glaring bolts of lightning at me. If looks could kill …

“Are you having a nice time?” I ask lamely.

Apparently, I’m not convincing. She leans across the small table between our sofas and hisses through clenched teeth, “What the fuck, Apollo? You’re being a total cockblock. I was just about to seal the deal when you interrupted us.” She jabs one of her light pink fingernails into the table, and I think she’s reached peak diva.

“I’m sorry?” I respond in complete astonishment.

“Oh, that’s okay, don’t apologize.” Her face softens, and she smiles all traces of her irritation gone.

“I wasn’t—”

“I’m sorry I snapped like that, I just can’t believe I’m about to have a shot with Graham Davis. I don’t know how you’ve been friends with him all these years and not been tempted to take a little nibble,” she says with a conspiratorial wink and then she gives me a measuring look, from top to toe. There’s a smug light in her eyes when she looks back at my face. She smiles condescendingly as she smooths her hands down the front of her short pink skirt that says, “I mean, of course, you’re not his type at all.”

No matter how many times I hear that, it never fails to make me flinch. She notices it, and I hate myself for letting it show.

“Oh, Apollo,” she says in feigned sympathy. She reaches her hand across the table to cover mine and says, “I mean, you’re pretty. In a …” She waves her other hand around as she searches for the right word. “Well, in your own way.” She smiles pityingly at me.

“But, everyone knows he only dates models and that he loves curves. You’ve got a great ass, but no tits.” She frowns down at my body, which I happen to love and shrugs as if she hadn’t just insulted me.

The muscles in my jaw jump and I pull my hand away from hers and put my glass to my lips.

I scan the club and see that Graham’s ended his phone call and is talking to two men I recognize from the cast of his reality show. And across from me, Josie doesn’t seem to care if I’m paying attention or not, and she continues her dissection of me.

“Maybe if you added some highlights or something. Have you tried curling—Oh, look he’s coming back.” Her smile brightens, and her eyes light up as she flips a thick lock of her shiny golden locks, as if to remind me that I didn’t stand a chance next to her.

“Josie, he’s not coming back for you,” I say with a smile as bright as the one she just gave me. “But, I understand why you would hope so.” I down the rest of my drink and stand up to watch him move across the space.

Yes, he looks the part. Yes, he can have anyone he wants. Live anywhere he wants. But he’s made it very clear that he wants me.”

I stand up and walk toward him.

“I wore this dress for you,” I blurt.

He grins and looks down at his feet. His hands stroke the back of his neck.

“Graham?” I ask when he chuckles softly.

He peeks up at me through his eyelashes, and to my amazement, he looks … bashful.

“Are you blushing?” I ask him, delightfully incredulous.

His gaze is direct now, the intensity in eyes pins me in place.

“The girl I’ve had a crush on since I was fourteen is standing in front of me telling me that she put that gorgeous dress onto her insanely sexy body with me in mind. So, yeah, I’m blushing.”

God, he’s so hot. I press on with what I came to say.

“I wore this dress because it matches your eyes,” I tell him. His expression softens.

“I’m here to stake my claim on those eyes and the beautiful soul they’re a window to.” His chest rises sharply, and he opens his mouth like he’s about to speak.

But he doesn’t.

He looks dumbfounded.

God, I suck at grand gestures.

“I’m sorry. That was a poor attempt at being poetic … I’m just trying to say, I want us to be more than just friends.”

He shakes his head rapidly and then exhales sharply. He eyes me skeptically. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to think that I was giving an ultimatum. I just didn’t want you to feel like you were being coerced instead of wooed. And as badly as I want all of you, I don’t want you to hurry.” His voice is hesitant, and his words deliberate. His gaze is so intent and worried. “I’ll work as long as it takes. I’m prepared to run after —”

“I don’t want you to run after me, baby, I want you to run beside me.” He reaches out and yanks me toward him so roughly that I stagger on my heels and my thighs clench at how good it feels for him to take what he wants and know that he doesn’t need to ask. He presses his hard, strong, lean body flush to mine and looks down at me. His body feels so good, my wits start to scramble. I concentrate and try to finish what I’m saying.

“Let’s chase life, together. I want to live like I mean it. I want to squeeze every single drop of joy and pain that life has for me. I don’t want my fear to rule me. Also, I happen to be deeply and irrevocably in love with you.”

His smile is as bright and beautiful as the stars he has always reminded me of. And it’s just for me. He looks up at the ceiling and says, “Thank. Fuck. I’m so—”

I put my finger to his lips. “Please, I’m not finished.”

“Bossy.” He bites down on the tip of my gold-tipped finger, and I hiss as his tongue licks the sting away.

“Graham, let me go. I can’t talk when you’re touching me.” I step backward and tug on my suddenly very hot dress. “I have something to say, and I need you to listen.”

“You’ve got two minutes,” he drawls. The way his lips pucker when they form the ‘o’ in two makes my pussy quiver.

I cannot believe this man is mine. Now, it’s time for me to act like a woman who deserves him.

I sit down on the sofa and pat the cushion next to me. He nods and strolls over. When he’s sitting, I reach for his hand and link our fingers.

“I owe you another apology. What I did after your graduation … I shouldn’t have. I had too much to drink.” I look down at our joined hands. “It’s not an excuse. But, I pushed us over a line we shouldn’t have crossed. We were going in different directions, and I took it personally that yours had veered off where I thought … And then, I licked my wounds for too long.” I stop and swallow hard. “You deserved a better friend. I vow to be that from now on. I want to show you that you can trust me.”

He takes my hand in his. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You did exactly what you should have. You honored your dreams, you reached for more, and I’m fucking proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you, too,” I tell him.

He rolls his eyes. “Really? What for, exactly? Because I’m famous for my biceps and hair? Or because I’ve got overpriced athletic shoes in stores all over America? Or maybe it’s because people are more interested in my sex life than my relationship with Race for the Cure.” He laughs dryly and sits back in his chair and faces forward. My heart sinks at his words. How can that be all he thinks of himself?

“I’m proud of you because you’re a survivor. I know how far you’ve come. And yes, you’re famous for your gorgeous hair and your hot body, but why is that something to be diminished? You work hard. You’ve seen your mother through the fight of her life, and you’ve built a business you can be proud of.”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks for saying that; I just thought my life would turn out differently.”

“You’ve still got lots of time. If you want something, go after it. I’ll be with you no matter what. I promise.”

He gazes at me and then he yawns. I burst out laughing. “Sorry I couldn’t make this more entertaining.” I chuckle.

“I didn’t sleep last night,” he says, and suddenly I can see the fatigue around his eyes.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes on my mouth as he leans forward. I put a hand on his shoulder and stop him from coming any closer.

He quirks an eyebrow at me, and before I know what’s happening, he wraps an arm around my waist and takes me with him as he stands up again. His arm holds me tight to his chest.

I’m suddenly aware that the only noise in the room is the music. No one is talking. My head whips around the room and every single eye is trained on us. I look around and see the entire event has stopped and everyone is watching us.

“Graham. We’re making a scene,” I say, but I’m giggling, too.

“Apollo. I don’t give a fuck,” he says before he lowers his head to press his nose into the side of my neck. He takes a deep breath, inhaling me and stroking my neck with the very tip of his nose.

The simultaneous rush of heat in the hollow of my the gut and explosion of gooseflesh all over my skin makes me shudder, and I can’t do anything to stop.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t loosen his grip, doesn't take his piercing gaze off me.

“I want you to fucking kiss me.”

He cups my neck and leans in. “Now.”

I gaze into his eyes. I can see the truth plain as day. He’s all in. He’s mine. And I’m his.

I lean forward, rise up on the tips of my toes and press my lips to his.

It’s a light kiss. But there’s so much promise and passion in it.

“Damn, I hate that I have to leave tonight,” he murmurs and brushes my hair off my forehead.

“Me, too.”

“But, babe, when I get back … This is happening.”