“And this is Tony, our very late drummer,” Brandon says with a roll of his eyes.
I greet all of the guys, but when I shake hands with Grayson, he holds on an extra second too long and looks into my eyes with something resembling uncertainty. The feeling in the pit of my stomach only intensifies as our skin touches. It’s almost overwhelming, and if it lasts even just a second longer, I’m going to have to walk away and clear my head.
Because…What. The. Fuck.
“Hey, Gray?” Eric says, and I’m now absolutely sure this is the same Eric who also lived in our neighborhood when Grayson and I were growing up. “Let’s go check out the stage set up or… something.”
Grayson snaps out of his reverie at the sound of his bandmate’s voice and drops my hand, still as speechless as I am when we finally break eye contact. Eric moves past us and brushes his fingers across Rylee’s hip, sparking something resembling intensity and familiarity between them that I don’t recognize. The band leaves the room shortly after the strange interaction. As soon as the door shuts behind them, Rylee whirls around and grabs me by the shoulders, already unaffected by whatever just happened between her and Eric.
“Do you want to explain to me why this whole room felt awkward for a good ten minutes and why Grayson was acting like he knew you?” she demands.
I’m a little bewildered, because I feel like I just learned more about her in the last fifteen minutes than in the entire year I’ve known her.
“Doyouwant to explain tomewhat just happened between you and Eric?” I shoot back. “Also, when were you planning on mentioning that Brandon’s band is a big enough deal to open for a show like this?”
“I honestly didn’t realize they were getting big opportunities now,” Rylee explains. “Brandon and I talk often, but he’s always been the type to play stuff like this close to the vest until it’s really happening. He feels like he’ll jinx it if he starts shouting his success from the rooftops. I’m not surprised he didn’t tell me.”
“Okay, valid,” I relent. “But you and Eric. What wasthat?”
“A story for another day, okay?” she says, and I hear the pleading tone in her voice for me to drop it. “I want to talk aboutyou and Grayson. I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that. Have you guys met before or something?”
“You could say that.” I sigh, trying to collect all the feelings and thoughts buzzing around in my head.
Rylee’s eyes widen as she points to the couch and demands I spill the details immediately. I tell her the story of Grayson Harris, the older boy who lived across the street from me. He sang and played guitar on his front porch, and I would sit on my own porch and pretend to read or work on homework so I could listen to him. Unbeknownst to him, he’s the one who started my love for music. I tell her about the huge crush I nursed for years and the heartbreak that followed when he left. In a desperate attempt to get to know him, I’d even gone as far as befriending his little sister, Johanna—not one of my finest moments. Now, I haven’t seen or heard from him in over a decade.
“You’ve got to say something to him!” she exclaims once I’m finished.
“No!” I say, almost instantly. “I’m not going out of my way to embarrass myself. It’s not like he felt the same way about me back then.”
Rylee rolls her eyes and heads for the door, saying something under her breath along the lines of, “If you don’t tell him, I will.”
I dart out of the room after her, but I’m too late. There she is, with Grayson. It seems like she’s telling him everything, animated gestures and all. I stand with my arms crossed awkwardly against my chest a few feet away, praying for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
He’s more than just a hot guy. Even when we were young, I thought he was attractive—as much as I could think that at fourteen. But there almost aren’t words to describe the effect he has on me now. He’s God-like.
Grayson looks from Rylee to me. His eyes widen in full recognition—and he runs straight towards me.
He reaches me in a few long strides, wrapping me tightly in a hug and spinning me around like something out of a movie.
“God, Mia,” he murmurs against my shoulder. “Look at you—all grown up.”
I return his embrace and allow myself to relax into him, breathing in his scent. I expected him to smell more like sweat and cigarette smoke—what most of the musicians I know usually smell like. But his scent is intoxicating, something remnant of sandalwood and fresh laundry.
I hope I’m not shaking hard enough for him to notice. He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, still holding on to me like he doesn’t want to—maybe can’t—let me go.
“You’re not just here for tonight, are you?” he asks, and I swear he sounds hopeful.
I shake my head, still too shocked by who’s standing right in front of me to say anything even remotely coherent.
“Good,” he smiles. “I have to go play this set, but please, don’t go anywhere.”
He kisses my cheek and runs out on stage with the rest of the band, greeting the crowd at the microphone. I stand there stunned, unable to move, as I attempt to process what just happened. I see Rylee rounding the corner with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
“Well?” I demand, half pissed at her for confronting him, half in love with her for the same reason. “What did you say to him?”
“You walked in before I could finish,” she says. “But, Mia, in all the years I’ve known Grayson, he’s never looked at anyone the way he just looked at you.”
Chapter two
