Page 27 of Scattered Glitter

“I’m going to claim all your firsts, Trouble.”

Well, he didn’t. He got a lot of them, but not all. Our time together was too damn short. Six months. Just six months after he swore we had all the time in the world, time ran out.

I touch the tattoo lightly, my fingers tracing the edges as memories rush back.

“You wanna be mine, Trouble? Because damn, I’m already yours.”

I’m too sober for this.

Stumbling into the living room, I grab the bottle of whiskey and collapse onto the couch, surrounded by little diamonds. The burn of alcohol is a welcome distraction as I take long swigs straight from the bottle.

Why did I even bring Hottie home? Hell, he wasn’t supposed to get under my skin like this. He’s the fucking bartender—sharp, witty, flirty, and hot as hell, but easy enough to ignore.

Yeah, sure.

That’s what I get for making an exception for him. I shake my head, biting back a frustrated laugh. He literally quit his fucking job.For me.And I didn’t even protest when he showed me the text. Why didn’t I stop him? Why didn’t I laugh in his face and tell him how absolutely ridiculous it was?

What kind of person does that? Throws away their stability for someone like me? He doesn’t know me, not really. If he did, he wouldn’t have sent that text. He wouldn’t have kissed me. Selfishly, deep down, I wanted him to do it. I wanted him to make me feel as if I was worth something more than a quick fuck. I wanted him to choose me, even if it was reckless and absurd, because I know I won’t choose him. Ican’t.

Even though when he kissed me and his lips touched mine, it felt like every wall I’d spent years building came crashing down. It was a high, a rush I’d craved for so long, even though I should know better by now.

Because beneath all the glimmer and gleam, there’s only me, still holding up the walls, making sure no one gets too close. But that’s the thing about walls, they don’t just keep people out. They trap you inside too. And sometimes, I wonder if I’ve gotten a littletoogood at this game.

Hottie wasn’t supposed to matter. He was supposed to stay on the fringes, a little spark to distract me. Except the moment his lips touched my damn tattoo, everything came flooding back. The promises. The loss. The pain. It was too much. I couldn’t let him get that close. Not there.

Not to that part of me.

He wasn’t supposed to care about me. I’m not supposed to care about him. And yet, here I am, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how it felt when he kissed me, looking at melike I was something more than another girl passing through his life, like I was worth staying for.

Now he’s gone, probably thinking I’m just another broken mess, another complication not worth the effort.

And he would be right.

My eyes grow heavy, and I feel myself slipping under when a familiar weight settles in my lap. I blink blearily, forcing my eyes open to find Good Lookin’. “How did you get in here?” I ask, turning to see that we left the balcony door wide open. When I look back at her, her bright green eyes stare up at me with that calm, indifferent gaze only cats can manage. “I’m sorry,” I mumble, my voice thick as I run my fingers through her fur. “I’m such a mess.”

She doesn’t care. She just purrs, the vibrations soothing against my legs. It’s the kind of comfort that asks for nothing, expects nothing. And right now, it’s exactly what I need.

Tomorrow, the walls will go back up, and the world will only see the glitter.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Novalee

The air smells of dirt and wild sage mixed with the rich scent of red wine as I take a long sip from the bottle. The stars stretch out above us, bright and endless across a sky as dark as velvet.

We’re at South Mountain, a little corner of the universe, far away from the chaos below. Out here, the city lights and the new foster family feel like a distant memory, and the stars are almost close enough to touch.

I hand the bottle to Rosalee, and she takes a sip, closing her eyes, savoring it like it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted. Her lips curl into a satisfied smile as she swallows. “Now, this is nice.” She raises the wine toward the sky, toasting to the stars.

I smile at her and turn my gaze upward. “Look, that one right there.” I point at the sky. “It’s Orion. See those three stars in a row? That’s his belt.”

Rosalee squints up at the stars, taking another sip, then passing me the bottle. “If you say so. They still just look like shiny dots to me.”

I laugh and take a sip from the wine bottle, something Istole from a wine store for rich people because Rosalee mentioned wanting to try it. She deserves it, even if we’re not sipping it from crystal glasses. “Orion’s easy to spot because of that belt,” I explain. “And over there…” I point to another constellation, “… that’s Taurus, one of the oldest constellations. People used to navigate with the stars. It’s like an ancient map.”

Rosalee sighs, but a small smile ghosts over her lips. “Fine, fine. I guess if you know what you’re looking for, it’s kinda pretty.”

I roll onto my side, careful not to spill anything, grinning at her. “Told you. It’s more than just sparkles. There’s a whole universe out there.”

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