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The drumstap, tap, tapto life, and the guitar starts in with an addicting melody, entangling itself with the beat of the music that begins to pour from the speakers.

But nothing is as addicting as Greyson’s voice, the way it floats across the space between us and slides over my skin.

I pushed, you pulled,

right from the start,

to shield and win

a broken heart,he croons, and it melts my insides—my heart, my soul.

The longer I stand here and watch him, the more I slowly start to fall into a world of my own. I don’t even realize it’s happening until it’s just him, and me, and a lifetime ago—where I sat on a small stool in a tiny pub and watched him sing to a crowd for the very first time.

The difference between then and now, the before and the after—these images flash in my mind, one replacing the other again and again. A young and nervous Greyson perched on a stool with his guitar in his lap. And this one. Stage-dominating, confident.

It takes my breath away.Hetakes my breath away. The contrast between the Greyson I knew, and this man on stage who commands and enraptures an entire theater full of people.

He swaggers across the stage without arrogance. Belts the words of his song without an ounce of restraint. And stands on a speaker and flashes a tilted smile that makes the theater go wild without even realizing he’s doing it.

I didn’t think it was possible to be more attracted to Greyson than I already am, but his stage presence is…

It’s something else. Something otherworldly.

The way his fans absolutely adore him. The way they eat it up as he toes the edge of the stage and waves his arm back and forth. The way anyone in this room can clearly see that he’s living his wildest dreams come true and is enjoying every second of it, not taking a bit of it for granted.

The crowd quickly mirrors his movement and a sea of arms sways side to side in perfect synchrony below me. I watch the wave of them flow back and forth, and back and forth, and it’s mesmerizing.

It’s almost too insane to wrap my mind around. All of this. But above it all, above anything else, I feel so—wildly, insanely, immeasurably—proud of him. Of all he’s done. All he’s accomplished. Who he’s become in the process. It’s beautiful.

Ricky takes my hand in his and spins me around in his arms, and my thoughts seem to fly away with the movement, falling from my mind one by one. My eyes meet his excited ones, and I can’t help but feel that excitement too.

It seeps into my consciousness until it flows through my veins, and I smile. Big, and unrestrained, and full of all the happiness I’m feeling.

Becauseholy shit.But that’smyGreysondown there.

Ricky swings me around again and again, and we dance the rest of the song away. We dance, and we dance, and we dance, and one song rolls into the next, and I don’t ever stop.

I switch from Ricky’s arms to Sita’s, and then Kat’s, and Maggie’s. Brienne and her friends come over and join us, too.

And I don’t think my smile leaves my face the entire night.

Especially not after Greyson’s attention focuses up on our group mid-song, and his eyes find mine, winking at me once before singing,

You blow my mind, girl.

You blow my fucking mind.

Because ditto, baby. Ditto.

Seventy-three After

I SLIDE MYlegs up and over Greyson’s, turning to face him on the black leather couch we’re sitting on.We’re in our own little world. An imaginary bubble separating us from the rest of the backstage crowd.

Ricky and my girls are around here somewhere, mingling with the band and their friends. I hear their laughter drifting across the room, but my focus is all on Greyson.

“That was insane.You’reinsane. Does this not blow your mind every single day?” I gush. “Like, do you wake up in the morning and look yourself in the mirror and go, ‘holy shit, I’m Greyson Hayes’?”

He laughs, pulling me closer, shaking his head. “Not exactly. But something like that, I guess. The awe of it all.”