When I was younger, I used to believe in shooting stars.

I would wish for many things. For the fancy red scarf hanging in the department store window, draped around the mannequin's neck. For my mom to let me go on the camping trip, my first overnight trip away from home. I even wished for my first kiss to be with Liam Cador, even though he always smelled too sweet, like an overpowering scent of butterscotch.

But there was one wish I wished for more than anything. I used dandelions and birthday candles, and then I would look into the sky and wait to see a shooting star, just so I could wish for a boy who would one day look at me as if he saw the same stars in my eyes.

It was crazy how wishes had a way of coming true.

I looked at my reflection in Griffin's bathroom mirror, straightening the messy, dark strands of my hair with my fingers.

It hit me I was actually in his bedroom; I had been in here before, but this was different. It was as if something had shifted between us, and suddenly I was nervous. I imagined what it would look like if I had the post-sex glow, and then I shook my head for letting Luce's words get into my head.

I had changed into Griffin's clothes to spend the night, and his t-shirt was a lot bigger on me. It smelled fresh, with a hint of sage and pine. His clothes made him look hot — but I definitely looked stupid in them. I swung open the door, waiting for him to laugh at the sight. Instead, he looked at me and swallowed, his eyes quickly skimming over me without him saying anything.

"What?" I said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Do I look bad?"

"No," he said, moving his arms so his biceps were more pronounced. "I think — never mind."

"Tell me!" I insisted.

He still didn't answer, taking me in, in a way that made me giddy and nervous at once. "Tell me," I repeated, moving closer to him.

"Or what?" he said, his lips pulling up into a devilish smile as he watched me.

I contemplated how to answer that.

Before I could, he reached out and pulled me closer, making me giggle. "I think you should wear my clothes more," he said in a low tone, his voice serious and husky. I felt my breath hitch as I realized how close we were. I think he did too, because he looked at me so intensely that I felt my stomach flutter. I placed my arms around his neck, and he moved me so I was straddling him before kissing my forehead.

"Thank you for staying the night with me," Griffin said softly. His fingers entwined with mine.

"I didn't want to be alone tonight, either," I whispered. I didn't know what I would do if I were in my room. The room that Justin had been in several times. I hated to admit it, but I was scared of someone I once thought would never hurt me.

Griffin took his bottom lip in between his teeth before releasing it. "This whole time, I knew we'd find the killer. I just never imagined what it would feel like when the truth was out."

I swallowed. "Do you think they're going to arrest him?"

Griffin looked at me with hooded eyes. "I'm sorry, Haven."

"Why are you sorry?"

"This whole time, I was so angry at Justin. I didn't think about how you feel." He licked his lips uncertainly. "I should've thought about you before I reacted like that earlier today. It's just... I felt this consuming rage, like I couldn't see clearly. All I could see was Natasha's face, and I wanted to keep going." His voice grew dry. "I didn't listen to you, and I'm sorry for that."

I shook my head, looking into his warm blue eyes. "No," I said. "What Justin did... He deserves everything coming his way."

The bitter words settled in the air. I didn't know where Justin was right now — maybe at home, maybe in the police station. Either way, I didn't want to see him again.

"The last time we talked," I said slowly, "He said he would do anything for us. What if he killed Natasha for me?" My breathing grew labored. "What if I'm the reason she's dead right now?"

Griffin shook his head. "Don't blame yourself for this."

I tugged my legs closer to my chest, staring at the ground. Before long, I felt warm hands interlocking with my own.

"Haven," Griffin said, more intently this time. "I'm not letting you blame yourself. You're one of the few reasons we even had a shot at saving Natasha and finding out what happened to her."

I sniffled. "I'm so used to losing everyone that I'm scared I'll lose you, too."

"I promise you that won't happen," Griffin whispered in my ear. "Nothing is going to happen to me." He hugged me tightly, and I felt my body go limp, laying my head against his chest. I didn't know how long we lay like that, but for the first time in a while, I felt safe.

When I pulled away, I said, "Don't break the promise, ok? I take those seriously."

He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "So do I," he said huskily.

"We're going to be okay," I said. I didn't know if I believed it fully, but I said it anyway.

"We're going to be okay," he repeated, lacing our fingers together. The way he was looking at me made butterflies float in my stomach, and every inch of me was warm.

"What?" I said, my voice barely coming out above a whisper.

"I can't look at you without wanting to kiss the hell out of you, Grey."

"So do it," I said, feeling my heart thud against my chest. He had to hear it this time- it was so quiet, there was no way he didn't hear it.

He placed his hand against my chin, pulling my face closer to him as he kissed me. His lips were soft and warm, encompassing my own. And he was right — he kissed me as if he needed me. He deepened the kiss, running his hand through my hair and I realized one thing:

Griffin Keely was a damn good kisser.

My t-shirt brushed up my thigh as I pressed into him and he leaned back into his bed, keeping his hand on the small of my back and pulling me into his hard chest. His hand was on my leg, creeping up until it was dangerously close to the hem of my shirt.

I felt everything. The way his fingers drummed against my leg, the silver ring on his finger, cold against my bare skin as he traced circles on my stomach. I was mesmerized by his touch, the smallest of touches, that made me want to be his.

And then, just as abruptly, he had pulled his hand away from me. "Haven —" he breathed, sitting up and stopping me before we could go further.

What was wrong?

I felt a wave of disappointment pass over me, the heat from seconds before dissipating into doubt. I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't help the thoughts crossing my mind. Griffin had slept with others, easily, without a second thought.

So why was he holding back now? I felt my heart crumble at the thought of him not wanting me and looked at him, knowing I couldn't mask the confusion and hurt in my eyes.

I wondered if I should shift over, if the moment was ruined. I tried to move off of him, but he kept his hands on my hips, locking me in place and making me look at him.

"I know you haven't, you know, before," he said. I felt a blush creep up my neck. Even though we hadn't talked about it, Griffin wasn't a stranger to the fact that I had never had sex before. What he didn't know was that he was the first boy that ever made me feel the way I did.

"I just want it to be special for you," he continued in his deep voice, the type of husky tone that sounded like he had just woken up late at night.

His eyes darted up to meet mine again. "So don't feel like I don't want you because I do. More than anything or anyone I've ever wanted."

Looking into his eyes, I knew he meant it. He was waiting for me and would wait for as long as I wanted. I reached up so I could brush through his hair, biting my lip as I nodded.

"Trust me, it's not easy," he lightly groaned. "Especially not when you do that."

"Do what?" I said innocently. He kissed me again as if that was his way of answering, and that was fine by me.

"Grey," he whispered against my mouth. That's all he said — my name, sounding so much better on his tongue. He broke the kiss to look at me, and that's when I saw it.

The type of look where a boy sees stars in your eyes.

"You're good to me," I whispered. Because even though I knew I wanted him to be my first, I knew we had to do it right. Not in a rush and not because we were hurting.

He smiled. A million-dollar smile, one that made his face light up and eyes twinkle brighter than any of the shooting stars I've ever seen, and I think I fell for him all over again.