Page 27 of Pretty When It Burns (When The Lights Go Down #1)

Chapter twenty-four

"Constellations" - Jade LeMac

Grayson

Backstage is even more chaotic than usual after the show.

After a normal night, we’d be doing the post-show meet and greets, hanging out with fans, and maybe jamming with the other bands.

But tonight, the crowds are so crazy after seeing Mia and me perform together for the first time that our team is strongly suggesting against leaving the safety of backstage.

I’ve already taken to Instagram to try to calm the waves as we’re greeted by a tense conversation with Jake the minute we come off the stage.

“Congrats on the vocals,” he says to Mia. “Now brace yourselves.”

I stiffen, my protective instincts in overdrive. “What happened?”

Jake hands me his phone and says, “You’re trending. But not all of it’s good.”

“You guys broke the internet!” Rylee screams, interrupting the intensity. “Look at this reel! Two million views already!”

She turns her phone towards us and I take it from her.

The video shows Mia and me mid-performance of Collapse Into You, faces close, in perfect harmony.

I barely recognize the guy in the video, thinking, is that really me?

That guy is calm, happy, completely in his element, so unlike the guy I’ve been trying so hard to keep buried under the surface.

“You guys are on the cover of People!” Rylee adds, taking her phone back to flip to the latest headlines.

Grayson Harris (@catastrophically_gray) and Mia Alexander (@miaalexandermedia) shock Philadelphia crowd—is Alexander Catastrophically Charismatic’s newest member?

Fans of the alt-rock group, Catastrophically Charismatic, were stunned earlier tonight when front man, Grayson Harris, wasn’t the only one taking the spotlight on stage. Mia Alexander, one of the band’s photographers—and Harris’ girlfriend—joined him, leaving the crowd speechless.

Alexander, who until now has stayed behind the camera, stunned the audience with a captivating, emotional performance that had fans asking: is this her official debut?

While the response from most showgoers has been overwhelmingly positive, a small contingent of critics claim Alexander was trying to “steal Harris’ spotlight” or that “Harris could do better.” However, the majority of the show’s attendees were thrilled for the couple and thought the show proved how perfect the two are for each other.

One fan wrote, “Mia’s voice? Grayson’s reaction? I’m never recovering.”

Harris took to Instagram Stories shortly after the show to clear the air:

“Can’t believe I even have to do this, but I asked Mia to come on stage with me tonight. She didn’t want to at first. This was all me.”

He followed up with another post, adding: “Been going through a lot. Mia makes that better. Pls try to understand. x Gray.”

We’re curious to see what Alexander does next, but whatever it is, we hope it brings her back on stage. Check back here for updates!

I scroll through some of the comments. Most are amazing:

“ICONIC! Give Mia a mic every night.”

“Where has Mia Alexander been my whole life?”

“Hayley Williams vibes for real.”

But others…

“She’s just a PR stunt.”

“Catastrophically Charismatic doesn’t need a female lead ruining their vibe.”

“Thank you, next.”

For the most part, I’m thrilled—relieved, even—that minus a small but vocal minority, people love me and Mia together.

That the show had gone well. That I made it through the damn thing at all after everything that’s been going on.

The media hasn’t always been like this for me and the band, covering us so closely, hence the need for us to have media management in the first place.

Sometimes, I miss being able to do and say whatever I want without having to worry there might possibly be a reporter or “anonymous source” listening or watching.

“You guys are trending worldwide now,” Brandon says, pulling me back to the present.

“The label rep is freaking out in the best way,” Eric adds with a grin.

Mia blinks at them, clearly overwhelmed. “I just… sang,” she says.

“Yep, and now you’re a phenomenon,” Johanna beams, but then seeing Mia’s expression, crosses her arms and sighs. “I hope you’re ready for what that means.”

I pull her away from the craziness of the group and into the privacy of our dressing room. The moment the door shuts behind us, the noise and chaos backstage fades like it’s miles away. It’s just me and Mia—finally.

I take her hand and bring it to my lips. “You’re magic,” I whisper.

She looks up at me, those green eyes I love so much softly glowing under the low lights. She gives me the faintest smile, but I can see the weight it holds. She’s still processing it all—the show, what’s being said about her, what might happen next.

“You could do it the whole time,” she says quietly. “You didn’t need me—you just needed to remember who you are. You’re the magic, Grayson. You always have been.”

My throat tightens a little.

Jesus.

She has no idea what it means to hear that from her.

I close the last of the distance between us and kiss her—deep, slow, filled with all the tension that had built around hearing her sing my lyrics on stage for the whole world to see.

“I didn’t just want you out there tonight, Mia,” I murmur against her lips. “I needed you. You anchored me to something real when I was about to lose it all. You were the only thing that made sense tonight.”

“I wasn’t sure I could do it,” she admits. “Not until I saw you, and then everything else just faded away.”

“I always knew you could,” I tell her, with every ounce of truth that I have as I tilt her chin up.

My other hand stays on her waist while my eyes lock with hers. The room is dim, only the soft, buzzy overhead lights above us, but everything about her and those eyes feels like warmth. All I can see is her.

I kiss her again, those pouty, perfect lips parting underneath mine as we explore each other with the trust that can only come from someone who’s seen you at your worst and stays anyway.

She presses closer, wrapping her arms around my neck, letting her fingers thread into my hair like she’s anchoring herself to me.

I let my forehead rest against hers for a moment.

It’s the first real moment we’ve had truly alone since the first night in LA that isn’t in the middle of a public park—I don’t want to waste a second.

My dick twitches to attention as her hands are already under my shirt, dragging her nails across my chest like she owns me.

I shiver at the contact and pull the dark blue canvas tee over my head in one swift motion, tossing it somewhere behind us.

The way she looks at me as she continues to explore my bare skin—like she’s starving for me the way I am for her—makes it impossible to think about anything but burying myself in her and never coming up for air.

“Tell me you want this,” I whisper, my voice hoarse and tight as I walk her backwards.

She never lets go of my gaze, her eyes sparkling with something dangerous and intentional.

“I want this,” she says. “I want you, Grayson. I’m done with taking it slow—I want to feel what it’s like to have you fill every inch of me.”

She’s right.

We’ve been dancing around this for weeks, been patient, careful. I’ve tried so hard to prove that this isn’t just about sex for me—because it’s not.

So hearing her say she’s ready for me? That she wants me to fucking fill her up?

Yeah, fuck self control.

Her legs bump the armrest of the old, brown leather couch in the corner of the room and she gasps when I grab her by the hips and lift her effortlessly as she wraps her legs around my waist.

I drop down with her in my lap, trying not to think too much about how many other people have done what we’re about to do on this very same couch.

She straddles me with ease, like it’s the only place she wants to be, already grinding against the bulge in my faded black jeans with a breathy little whimper that nearly makes me come in my damn pants.

“You okay?” I ask, my breath ragged.

She nods. “I think I’m more okay right now than I’ve ever been.”

I lean forward to meet her lips and her body melts into mine like we’re made for each other—and I’m completely sure that we are.

I slide my hands beneath that incredible skirt she’d borrowed—the one that’s been torturing me all damn night—and feel bare skin.

No panties.

I can’t help it. I groan under my breath, dropping my forehead against her shoulder.

“Fuck, Mia. You went on stage without fucking panties?”

She smirks because she knows exactly what she’s doing, and knows it sets my inner caveman off.

“Should I not have done that?” she pouts, all fake innocence and wicked satisfaction.

My eyes darken and I use one hand to clasp the back of her neck and bring her face just an inch away from mine.

“No one else sees you like this,” I growl, possessive and unhinged. “No one. But me. Understand?”

She lets out a needy little sound as I stop touching her, hovering my fingers over where she wants me most, not giving her anything until she gives me an answer.

“No one else,” she affirms softly, and I can hear the neediness in her voice begging me to continue. “Just you.”

“Good girl,” I praise, and my lips crash into her.

Her kiss is hungry, urgent, all tongue and teeth and heat.

When I finally press my fingers between her thighs again, she gasps like she’s been waiting her whole life for this.

She’s soaked, hot, and dripping for me, and I can’t fucking take it.

I’m obsessed with the way that she reacts to just my touch.

I can’t wait to see what she’s like when I’m thrusting into her with everything I have.

“If you want me to stop, tell me now,” I tell her. “Tell me now, baby, because you’re so fucking ready for me and I’m barely holding it together.”

“Grayson,” she whispers, her voice catching somewhere between a breath and a moan, a prayer… a plea. “Don’t you dare stop.”

That sound shatters me.

I slip two fingers inside of her and curl them just the right way, reveling in every sweet noise she gives me. She’s soaked. Ready.

I’m already addicted to her in a way I’ve never been with anyone before.

“You’re unreal,” I breathe, my voice strained. “I need you, sweetheart. Right now.”

I guide her skirt up to her waist as her hands move to undo my belt buckle, her touch just as hungry and frantic as mine. She strips off her shirt, revealing a sleek black bralette that does nothing to hide how hard her nipples are. My jeans hit the floor a second later.

I hold her in my lap as she unhooks the bralette. And when it falls?

I nearly lose it all over again.

“Jesus, Mia…”

She lowers herself onto me slowly, gasping as I stretch her open.

“Fuck,” she curses. “No condom.”

“I’m clean, sweetheart,” I assure her. “Nobody but you in longer than I care to admit.”

“Me, too,” she says with a sweet yet seductive smile. “And I have an IUD. Thank God, because I really wanted to feel all of you.”

Hearing her say that, I’m ready to come right there. I didn’t think I’d get to feel that so soon, but I’m sure as hell not going to tell her no.

Her hips roll instinctively against me and I swear under my breath again, my hands still gripping her tightly to steady her.

She’s all softness, heat, and breathless whimpers against my mouth while she somehow remains in complete control on top of me as I watch her eyes roll back into her head with pleasure.

She’s tight. Hot. Fucking perfect.

It feels like heaven is wrapped around me, and I don’t know how I’d ever thought sex with anyone else was any good before this.

This is earth shattering. Life changing. Every move she makes pulls me further under to the point that I’m practically seeing stars.

I let my hands roam her body, cupping her breasts and letting my mouth follow as I flick one of her nipples with my tongue and suck like my life depends on it.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” I say against her skin, my voice low and reverent.

Looking up at her, she locks eyes with me, all flushed cheeks and sex-hair, as she slowly moves up and down with all the intention in the world. She’s never looked more beautiful to me than she does right now.

“Then I hope it’s slow and sweet,” she whispers, pure sin dripping from her voice.

She’s the one in charge now, and I love every goddamn second of it.

But it’s my turn now.

I stand just slightly, my hands grasped firmly on her hips to keep her in place, and I flip her onto her back, never breaking our connection.

Her hair fans out like a halo, her eyes wide and waiting for more.

I line myself up, in the perfect position to thrust into her as deep as I can, and the sounds we both make fill the room. Mine.

She gasps again as I move against her, her nails digging into the skin on my back, staking her own claim on me.

“Grayson!”

“It’s okay, beautiful. I’ve got you,” I whisper, brushing sweaty hair away from her face. “I’ve always got you.”

Her legs wrap tighter around my waist, pulling me in as close as she can get me. She’s close now. I can feel it—the way she tightens around me, the way her whole body trembles under mine.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” I tell her, thrusting harder, deeper. “Fall apart for me.”

As she cries out for me again as her climax crashes over her like a wave, I follow right behind, giving myself over to her completely. My release fills her and drips from between her legs onto the couch beneath us.

We come undone together—skin to skin, breath to breath, soul to soul.

And as I hold her against me in the aftermath, one thing is crystal clear.

Maybe I finally claimed her, made my mark on her…

But this woman owns me, too, just as much as I own her.

Definitely. Completely.

Forever.