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Duncan, Harley, and their buddy, Cash, all had that same glow. I’d assumed it was a coupled-up thing, like what regular banging did to a person. But watching Liam made me wonder if there was more to their happiness, a deeper level of emotion, the result of the commitment to a life partner, not only someone to have sex with on the regular.

What would it be like to be as happy as Liam every day? A vision of myself showing off pictures of Malik popped into my head. Would I sound as proud as Liam? As secure and confident? Would Malik ever share pics of me?

Not gonna happen. This wasn’t some grand romance. Throat suddenly rough and scratchy, I returned my focus to the next extra in line. I tried hard not to think about my future, especially not beyond the here and now with Malik, but also working security. Apart from Liam’s relationship, he seemed professionally settled and happy, like he woke up every day excited to do costumes. Did I want to do security work for the next forty years? Did it make me Liam-level happy? Hell if I knew. At least today was fun.

“You look like someone who likes purple,” I said to the next woman in line, who had a purple parka on. “I’ve got a gorgeous plum number right here.”

And so it went until it was far later than I realized, and Liam shooed me away after I helped put the worn costumes carefully back on the racks with labels noting which extra and which scene they had been used in.

My phone lit up right as I left the building.

“Megan! It’s my favorite sister,” I greeted her.

“Your only sister.” Her eyeroll translated loud and clear over the phone.

“How is the new assignment going?”

“Great.”

“Not hating Colorado?”

“Nope.” I grinned at the empty sidewalk in front of me. “And you’ll laugh, but it turns out, I’m great at fashion advice. I had to help in wardrobe today.”

“Ha. Probably more like you’re great at flirting with extras.”

“Hey!” I made a sound of protest and drew my scarf closer around my neck. “I’m not always on the make.”

“Yes, you are. And I love you for it. Speaking of you and your thing for hot actresses, Tiffany Monroe called me totally out of the blue.”

“She’s up for a big role in some football movie.” I paused at the end of the sidewalk, debating heading to the diner to pick up dinner, but I was too bouncy to eat. And too eager to see Malik.

“Yep, so she said. Needs to learn how to be a football WAG. I’ll teach her everything I know.”

“That should be quick.” I chuckled lovingly as a bitter wind whipped down the street. Maybe the forecasts were right about snow after all.

“Jerk.” She echoed my fond tone. “And I’ll have you know she called you adorable.”

“Like a puppy?” I frowned. Malik had called me adorable too, but somehow, I liked it way better coming from him.

“Don’t be dense. You could have a chance with Tiffany. And she recently came out as bi in some magazine article.”

“And that matters why?” My tone became a bit snappish, and I paused my chilly walk to huff a breath. My exhale hung in the air like it was January, not March, and lingered like the truth of everything I wasn’t telling Megan.

“Aren’t you straight guys supposed to love that? Free threesome fantasy fodder.”

Straight. This might be the perfect moment to correct her on that assumption, but I opened my mouth, and all that came out was, “We’re not all that shallow.”

“Yeah, you are. Men. Anyway, want me to put in a good word with Tiffany?”

“Uh…”

“You don’t sound particularly enthusiastic to get back out there.”

“I am,” I lied, surprising myself with how little I was interested in Tiffany or anyone else not named Malik. “Maybe I’m done with actresses.”

“Oh? Some other fish on the hook?”

Yes. My steps quickened as I reached the motel. “Nah. Taking a break from relationships.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“And I’m about at my room. Probably going to lose signal.” I jiggled the phone, hoping for some convincing static.

“Fine, fine. Be that way. But expect a call from Mom about my engagement party when you’re back in town.”

I narrowly suppressed a groan. “Yippee. I’ll ready the penguin suit.”

Fucking buttons. I bet I wouldn’t be able to pull off something easy like a sweater. Another image of Malik flashed in my head. He was always so patient when I attempted to undress him. I could ask him to help with my buttons and not feel weird about it. And damn, the man did look good in dress clothes…

“I’ll tell Mom to make sure and invite some singles for you.” Megan interrupted my internal slideshow. Yep. Nice image, and so, so not happening.

“It’s a good thing I love you.”

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