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I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until his fingers made those first few passes over his guitar strings, the sound of it weaving through the room. My breath came out in a relieved rush. He was going to rock this shit so hard it wasn’t even funny. But the very next breath I took got stuck in my throat, because he’d started singing into the microphone.

I might’ve died then. Before coming back to life and falling for him all over again.

His voice was soft yet gruff. Gravelly, yet smooth. A complete contradiction of highs and lows and strength and subtlety that reached inside my chest and wrapped its claws around my heart, squeezing with a level of desperation I’d never felt before.

He looked down at his guitar most of the time, but every once in a while, he’d search for me in the dark and smile through his words when he found me. I’d like to say that I remembered every single word he sung that night, locking them safely inside a little treasure box buried within my brain, but I was so lost in his voice, so lost in the moments his eyes would seek mine, that I only really caught half of them.

I’d build a house out of stars, a past full of scars.

Rewrite my name, take all of the blame.

If you’d come back again, back again, back again.

He finished his song, and the crowd went crazy. Clapping, and hollering, and drunken, slurred words of approval. I, on the other hand, was in complete and total awe. My mouth might’ve been hanging open. Just a little. He smiled shyly—the first of its kind I’d ever witnessed from him—and made his way off stage. When his eyes found mine, that shy smile grew bigger, brighter, more at ease. He strode straight towards me and didn’t stop until he was right in front of me. Not nearly enough time to process any of this before he picked me up in a tight hug, squeezing every ounce of air from my lungs.

His arms.

Around me.

Firm, and strong, and unwavering.

His face was buried in my neck. I felt him inhale a deep breath. He didn’t say anything, not a single word. And he didn’t let me go. My heart was pounding out of my chest. I closed my eyes and relaxed into his embrace.

“That was…” he said, trailing off, inhaling and exhaling into my hair again.

“Fucking amazing,” I finished for him. There were no other words for it. He was absolutely amazing.

“Yes, that.” He laughed, slowly sliding me down his body to land on my feet. Except he didn’t pull away, and I didn’t step away either. So there we stood. Toe to toe, chest to chest. I looked up at him, and we both seemed to be forcing air into our lungs at the same time.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, the breath of his words falling over my face.

“For what? I should be the one thanking you. I just witnessed the first-ever performance of the one-day, mega-famousGreyson Hayes… Will you sign my face?”

He burst out in laughter. We were so close that I could feel the vibration of it tickling my skin. But I was selfish. I wanted more than that. I wanted to feel the weight of it against my body when he held me close. I wanted to feel the breath of it against my lips as he kissed me. There were an infinite amount of reasons and ways for him to laugh, and I wanted to own them all.

We were still standing so close, and not for the first time that night. But this time he was definitely looking at me like he wanted to kiss me. And I know for a fact that the way Ineededhim to kiss me was written clear across my face.

For a second there, I was absolutely sure he would.

Until he didn’t.

He cleared his throat and stepped away. “I can get you a free dessert,” he said, eyebrow raised. “Chocolate lava cake?”

I forced a smile, “Sure.”

I guess if I was being honest with myself, chocolatewouldcome second to a kiss from Greyson. If Greyson were the waves of an ocean and chocolate was the deepest, darkest depths of it.

Seventeen After

THE THING WAS, I had felt so numb for so long, that Greyson was the first person to come into my life and make me feel something. To make me feel anything at all. And only five minutes into seeing him, after all of these years, it feels like he’s done it all over again.

The aftermath is still lingering days later. I can’t shake it. Can’t shake seeing him again.

What was he doing here?

Does he live here?

Is he here on press tour? Does he have a show in town?Will I run into him time and time again, or was it a single, fleeting moment I’ll never get back?