23. Raleigh
Raleigh
23
Night after night, city after city, the tension worsens.
It’s been two weeks since being with Ezra in the pool, and when I say that there hasn’t been a single moment where I haven’t thought about it, I’m not exaggerating. Even in my dreams, I replay it over and over again. I’ve been wondering what it’d be like to be physical with him since I was fifteen years old, and it was just as incredible as I always imagined.
I had no idea it could be like that. The emotion, the pleasure, the connection . . . holy shit. I need to do it again. I need to feel him inside me. I need to feel the way he claimed me, and I don’t ever want it to stop. It was such a rush. In terms of experience, I can’t exactly claim to be an expert. Apart from what happened back in Michigan, my experience with sex is non-existent.
The moment Ezra pulled away from me and left me in that pool, I’ve never felt emptier. How can a life without him be worth living? Hell, I don’t even know how I’m going to make it through the rest of this tour. Seeing him every day and not being able to touch him or fall into his arms and tell him how much I’ve loved him over the years is killing me, and if it weren’t for my need to succeed at this job and prove myself to Lenny, I surely would have crumbled already.
I see it in Ezra’s eyes every time he looks my way. This is killing him just as much as it’s killing me, but I refuse to go running back to him, not while I’m holding onto so much anger and resentment. I don’t want to be with him that way, and deep down, I think he understands.
So for now, I continue to watch him from the sidelines.
Night after night, as Demon’s Curse performs for sold-out stadiums, I stand at the side of the stage, watching as the only man I’ve ever wanted pours his heart out in lyrics that I was too foolish and broken to hear.
Night one in Paris, he had turned to me and sung about one day giving me the love he always thought I deserved. And every night since, he’s done the same, picking a song, turning to me, and making sure I truly hear him.
Paris, night two, he turned to me and sang about the way his heart raced the first time he ever met me, and that still to this day, it was the greatest moment of his life. And I cried.
Italy, night one, he turned to me and sang about the anger he felt when he realized he’d allowed me to slip away, and how he’s never felt whole since. And my heart shattered.
Night two in Italy, he serenaded me with lyrics about how he would look up into the stars and picture wherever I was in the world, staring at the same dark sky. And the loneliness overwhelmed me.
And now tonight, as he waves his hands back and forth in sync with fifty thousand other souls, his gaze locks on mine, and I listen to the whole stadium sing about how he will love me unconditionally until his final breath. And with that, I feel the anger and resentment finally begin to fade into a distant hum.
The moment is too much, and as I hold his dark stare, my knees give out. I crumble to the ground as tears stream down my face, my heart pulling me in a million different directions, but there’s only one direction that feels like home.
I can’t take my eyes off him as he captivates the audience, his words speaking right to my soul, and when he makes his way toward me, my heart races for a whole new reason. He doesn’t skip a beat or miss a single lyric as he strides across the massive stage, past Rock and Dylan, and right into the wings of the stage where I remain a crumpled mess out of sight from the rowdy crowd.
Ezra offers me his hand, and as he sings the deep lyrics that shatter my soul, he helps me back to my feet. I expect him to walk away, to get back to his captivated audience, but instead, he pulls me into the warmth of his loving arms, wrapping them around me as he continues to sing.
I don’t say a word, simply hold him with my face pressed against his wide chest as the beat of his heart matches the bass of Rock’s drums.
A moment passes, and as the lyrics fade into Jett’s guitar solo, Ezra pulls back, lowers his microphone, and drops his intense stare to mine. His fingers brush beneath my chin, raising it until my lips are barely a breath from his. “Fuck, I love you,” he tells me.
All I can do is swallow over the lump in my throat as I hold his piercing stare, and when I don’t respond, he leans in and kisses me. It’s only a brief kiss, his lips lingering on mine for only a second before he pulls back. “I’m sorry, Rae. You’re too fucking beautiful to be on your knees for any man,” he tells me. “I needed you to hear it. I needed you to know what it’s been like all these years without you.”
“I know,” I murmur, clutching his strong arms. “It’s been the same for me.”
He nods, and as Jett’s solo comes to an end, Ezra takes a step back and lifts his microphone once again. His lyrics flow out of him so beautifully, it’s impossible to believe such words could have been written about me, and as he makes his way back to the center of the stage, all I can do is watch, completely mesmerized by this incredible man—a man I so desperately wish to call mine.
The rest of the show goes off without incident, and I manage to remain on my feet right until the explosive finale. Just like every night, I watch in awe as the pyrotechnics team does their thing. It’s incredible. Axel would have gotten such a kick out of it.
Dylan comes off the stage first, and just like every night, he scoops me off my feet and spins me around. “Fuck, that was a good one,” he says, completely pumped up. “You heard that crowd, right? Fuck. We were on fire.”
“You were,” I laugh as he settles me back to my feet.
He doesn’t release me though, simply holds my arms as he captures my stare, a seriousness washing over him. “You’re good though, right?” he murmurs, his gaze subtly flicking toward Ezra as he makes his way toward us. “That moment . . . you know, seemed a little intense.”
I give him a beaming smile and push up onto my tippy toes as I brush a kiss to his cheek. “I’m good,” I promise him just as Ezra comes past us, only he slows right down and takes my hand, gently squeezing it as he passes. His gaze locks onto mine, and for just a moment, my heart completely stops.
Everything that I am belongs to him.
Ezra continues, and our hands fall apart but my fingers feel as though they’ve been infused with electricity.
Rock crashes into me and Dylan, his arms locking around us both. “You know,” he muses, his grin way too suspicious. “If Rae wasn’t so head over heels in love with Ez, you two would make a cute couple.”
My gaze flicks back to Dylan’s, and a wave of awkwardness washes over us. “Ewwww, gross,” Dylan sputters, trying to get away from me. “She’s like my little sister.”
My lips twist with disgust at just the thought of being anything more to Dylan. Don’t get me wrong, he’s amazing, and any woman—hopefully Madds—would be lucky to scoop him up. But I am certainly not that woman. Madds on the other hand hasn’t been able to stop talking about him since their drunken night in my hotel room.
Rock laughs. “I know, I’m just fucking with ya,” he says, pulling back and clipping Dylan across the back of the head. “I’m fucking starving though. You down to eat?”
“I’m always good to eat,” Dylan says, finally able to release me properly.
“Count me in,” Ezra says from somewhere deeper backstage, and I turn back, glancing over my shoulder to find him putting his favorite electric guitar into its case. As if sensing my stare, his gaze shifts to mine. “What about you, Rae? You coming out with us? Just like old times?”
I let out a heavy breath, my cheeks blowing out. “Right, because that wouldn’t be a recipe for disaster?”
Ezra grins, and his whole face lights up, making my heart leap into action, racing a million miles an hour. “You’re not scared, are ya?” he questions, striding toward us.
I scoff and arch my brow. This boy always knew exactly what strings to pull to get me to cave. “Of you three? You wish.”
“Then it’s settled,” he says, his gaze darkening as it lingers on me, suggesting that after dinner, he’d like to have me for dessert.
A shiver sails down my spine, and I make a break for it, speed walking away before I accidentally jump him right here in front of Rock and Dylan. “Dinner sounds great,” I call over my shoulder, refusing to meet Ezra’s eyes. “Text me the details.”
I storm away, listening to the sound of Ezra’s laugh behind me, and the sound takes me back to a time when we were carefree and in love, a time when we didn’t have pain and resentment forcing us apart. And it occurs to me that whatever anger he had, whatever had him so frustrated when he first saw me, he’s let go of it. He’s happy, and the thought warms me in a way I wasn’t expecting. I just wish I were capable of doing the same.
After making my way back to my hotel room, I flop down on my bed, needing just a moment of peace before the rest of my night turns upside down. Don’t get me wrong, dinner with the guys used to be my version of normal, and to be able to do that again is amazing, but I know I’m going to feel Axel’s absence. It’s almost bittersweet.
A text comes through from Dylan, letting me know which restaurant they’ve chosen, and when he adds that I have twenty minutes to not only get my ass ready but to be there as well, a sheer panic rolls over me.
I throw myself from my bed and kick off my shoes before digging through my luggage. I managed to find a few spare moments in Paris and Italy to start refreshing my closet, and so far, I’m in love with everything I’ve found, but it’s always a struggle to pick out the right outfit now.
I’ve never had issues dressing the part before, and never really cared, but something makes me want to put in the extra effort tonight.
Picking out a black, form-fitting bandage dress, I get to work shimmying into it and doing what I can to get the zipper all the way up. I spruce my hair, wearing it down and doing what I can to accentuate and tidy my unruly loose waves.
After slipping into a pair of strappy heels and adding a little more makeup to take me from rocker-chick to evening goddess, I deem myself officially ready. I haven’t got a little clutch yet, so I’m stuck using the back of my phone case as a purse and after shoving my room key and some cash into it, I make my way to the door, only as I reach for the handle, a soft knock sounds through the room.
I pause as my heart starts to race, somehow already knowing who stands on the other side of the door, and as I lean into the heavy wood and peer through the little peephole, I find Ezra in all of his rockstar glory.
He looks as though he’s freshly showered, and just the memory of what that used to smell like is enough to cripple me. His hair is just as unruly as mine, almost jet black and falling into his eyes, and as my greedy gaze trails down his body, I become weak.
He wears a black button-down with the top few buttons left to their own devices, showing off his sculpted chest with those three chains hanging low around his neck.
He looks delicious, and I hate how desperately I want to take a bite.
“Rae,” he says, his voice so low it awakens something deep inside of me. “Are you going to open the door or just keep staring at me through that little fucking hole?”
“I’m not staring,” I throw back at him.
A stupid grin stretches across his ridiculously perfect face. “Uh-huh.”
Asshole.
Letting out a breath, I relent and reach for the handle, pulling the door open until I stand directly in front of him, and as the cocky smirk on his face morphs into awe, I feel the blush creep into my cheeks.
His gaze slowly trails down my body, taking me in as though he’s never seen me before. “Holy fuck, Rae,” he breathes, never having seen me wear such a beautiful dress before. “You look—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I warn, stepping into him and laying my hand against his racing heart before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You and I both know we can’t handle it.”
“Speak for yourself,” he mutters darkly before having to clear his throat.
“What are you doing here?”
“Thought you might need some company.”
I arch a brow as a stupid smirk settles across my lips. “And if I don’t?”
He scoffs, but there’s no mistaking the laughter shining in his eyes, and for just a moment, I could almost pretend that things were just like they used to be, that we weren’t two tortured souls desperate to find their way back together. “Then it’ll be a really fucking awkward walk to the restaurant.”
I can’t help but laugh as I roll my eyes and head off down the hall. Ezra falls in step beside me, and when he takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine, I don’t dare pull away. He loops our joined hands over my shoulder and pulls me in close beside him as we reach the elevator, only when it arrives and we’re closed inside, the shift in the air makes it almost impossible to breathe.
The tension rolls off us, and just as the elevator begins its descent, Ezra shifts beside me. I keep my eyes locked on his, watching him turn to face me, stepping in so close that we breathe the same air. His dark eyes are hooded and locked on mine as his hand takes my waist, sending the sweetest shiver sailing down my spine.
His darkened gaze drops to my lips as my chest rises and falls heavily, willing him to close the gap and kiss me.
God, I need him. That night two weeks ago in the pool wasn’t nearly enough. I need to feel him on me, his lips against mine, making me come alive.
The seconds tick by, and the tension grows so thick I can’t handle it another moment. His eyes are telling a story, a desperate plea for me to end his agony, to come around and finally give us the chance we deserve to start fresh, to give each other the love we so desperately crave.
His hand tightens on my waist, and as my heart booms like thunder in the deadliest storm, he begins to lean in.
I suck in a breath, and my hand involuntarily slides up his chest, preparing to claim him as my own. And just as I feel the slightest brush of his lips against mine—ding. The elevator arrives at the ground floor, and the door opens wide into the lobby where the concierge waits. “Mr. Knight. Miss Stone,” he says as I feel like a bucket of ice water has just been emptied over our heads. “Is there anything I can do for you? Reservations? A car?”
Ezra and I spring apart as though what we are doing is somehow wrong, and I watch as he offers the concierge a kind smile. “No, thank you. We’re okay. We’re going to walk.”
“Lovely,” the concierge responds. “It’s a beautiful evening for a stroll. Most of the fans and paparazzi seem to have cleared out.”
Ezra nods and as he glances back at me, he clears his throat before dropping his hand to my lower back. “Come on,” he murmurs before leading me out of the hotel lobby.
We walk in awkward silence as we step out into the street and find a few photographers that have lingered behind, but compared to the millions that were here earlier in the night, it seems somewhat peaceful.
Two girls rush up to us, beaming smiles across their faces as they shove band merch at Ezra with a Sharpie and giggle like idiots while begging for a picture. Ezra takes the merch from them almost on autopilot, signs it, and after letting them have their photo, they scurry away, leaving us to our night.
“That must get old,” I murmur as the street becomes silent.
He shrugs his shoulders. “Just part of the job, I suppose.”
“A shitty part.”
“Got that right,” he scoffs. “Axel was always the best at dealing with it. He always had time for fans, even the ones who wouldn’t get the hint to disappear.”
I laugh, remembering it so clearly. The few times I got to see him were always crazy. Fans would stalk us through stores, and by the time we’d finish anywhere, paparazzi had found us and were madly snapping pictures. It was insane, but Axel always had a smile across his face.
“I miss him,” I say with a heavy sigh.
Ezra’s arm falls around my shoulder, pulling me in just like he’d done in the hotel. “I know,” he murmurs. “Me too. Every fucking day.”
Silence falls around us, but this time there’s not a hint of awkwardness, just two people heavy in their own thoughts.
We make our way to the restaurant, and I’m not surprised to see Rock and Dylan already here, but when I spy Jett sitting at the table, irritation burns through me. “Really?” I mutter under my breath. “Why’s the tag along here?”
“Kind of a dick move not to invite him, don’t you think?” Ezra says. “Besides, it’s not like we can have a band dinner without him.”
“Sure. If this was a band dinner, but it’s not,” I say, hating how hostile I sound, but where Axel’s replacement is concerned, I can’t seem to help myself. “I thought it was just going to be us. Back at the show, you said just like old times.”
He peers down at me as we weave through the tables to get to ours. “Should I tell him to go?” he questions, raising his brow in challenge as if to see just how far I’ll push this.
Asshole. He knows my weaknesses.
“No,” I sigh, pressing my lips into a hard line. “I just don’t like being around him. It’s nothing against Jett, he’s an alright guy, I guess. He’s just a constant reminder that Axel isn’t here.”
“I get it,” he says. “But give him a chance. He’s really not so bad. Plus, you know after getting past his tendencies to run his mouth when he shouldn’t, Axel would approve.”
Being too close to the table, I keep my mouth shut, and as Ezra pulls out my chair for me, I can’t help but smile up at him. “Well, well,” Dylan says with a cheesy grin across his loveable face. “If it isn’t the world’s most repressed couple.”
Ezra rolls his eyes as he takes his seat, pinches a small bread roll from Rock’s plate, and launches it at Dylan. “Shut up.”
Dylan snickers, proud of his ability to always be the biggest moron in a room, but we all love him for it regardless.
“Nice of you to wait for us,” I say, not wanting to linger on the status of my and Ezra’s non-existent relationship, as I indicate toward their filled plates.
“We tried,” Jett says. “But the second we sat down, they just started bringing shit to us.”
“Ahhhh, lifestyles of the rich and famous,” I mutter, glancing between Rock and Dylan. “You know that shit isn’t normal, right? Mere mortals like me have to scavenge for our food.”
Rock scoffs. “Mere mortals like you? Please. You haven’t had to scavenge a day in your life.”
I clench my jaw to keep from saying something I shouldn’t and instead, I simply roll my eyes and laugh it off, knowing that not one of them will ever know just how hard I’ve truly struggled over the past two years.
“Besides,” Dylan adds with a smug expression. “We’re lying. There was no trying to wait. The second Ezra said he was going to get you, we figured you two would get too caught up staring at each other like love-sick puppies that you wouldn’t even make it out of your hotel room, so we ordered the whole fucking menu the moment we sat down. But here you are. I suppose we’re all having nice little surprises tonight.”
I give him a blank stare. Had it been anyone else, the quip about me and Ezra in a hotel room might have made me blush, but not where these idiots are concerned. “What’s the matter, Dylan? You sound a little off. Jealous that you didn’t get some rockstar knocking on your door tonight?”
He scoffs and smirks. “Don’t write it off just yet. The night is still young. There’s still a chance that I could have a rockstar knocking at my back door. After all, you know I love a little sword crossing.”
I groan and roll my eyes, watching Rock and Ezra laugh. “Are you three physically incapable of holding a conversation without making it about sex?”
Rock salutes me. “Affirmative.”
After I put in an order for something simple, the boys rave about the show. They go on and on about how great the vibe has been here in Madrid, and they’re absolutely right. It’s been insane. The crowd has been incredible, along with everything else.
The waiter drops off our food quickly, and after twenty minutes of conversation, I swallow my pride and reluctantly agree that Jett isn’t so bad. It doesn’t make me miss Axel any less though.
Throughout dinner, I feel Ezra’s gaze locked on me, and with every bite I take, that tension grows between us again. Only this time, it’s not filled with the same intense sexual undertones like it was in the elevator.
This is raw. It’s desperation. It’s the point of no return.
I’ve done everything I can to avoid his stare, but when his hand slips under the table to my thigh, my gaze snaps to his. I shake my head, unable to handle his proximity a moment longer, and without warning, I push back and hastily get to my feet, my chair scraping against the floor. “I, uhhh . . . I need to pee,” I tell the table before disappearing through the restaurant.
I find the ladies’ room and storm through the door before bracing my hands against the marble counter, hanging my head as I focus on taking deep breaths. I stand directly in front of the mirror, but I can’t bring myself to glance up and see the torment reflected in my eyes.
I take heavy, shaky breaths, willing myself not to fall apart, and I’m so lost in my head that I don’t notice anyone coming in until it’s already too late.
Familiar hands find my waist, and I straighten out, pressing my back flat against his wide chest as I close my eyes, finding the sweetest pleasure in his touch. Ezra’s hand curls around my body, holding me to him, and when his lips drop to my neck and gently kiss me there, all I can do is breathe him in.
“I got you, Rae.”
I don’t dare open my eyes to meet his stare through the mirror. Instead, I turn in his arms, folding into his warmth as I take a moment to find my composure.
“It’s un-fucking-bearable, Rae. Tell me what I need to do to make this right. I can’t take it any longer. You belong with me, right here in my arms where we don’t need to pretend,” he tells me, his voice cracking in agony. “Tell me how to fix this.”
“You can’t,” I whisper, my bottom lip quivering with the threat of tears. “It’s not yours to fix.”
“What are you talking about? Of course it is. I’m the one who left. I’m the one who broke your heart. I’m the reason you’re in here unable to even look at me. Of course it’s my problem to fix.”
I shake my head, the tears flowing free. “It’s not. You left, and I know you were only doing what you felt was right. You wanted me to have a normal life, go to college, and get my degree just like I always said I wanted. And despite that,” I cry, barely able to hold myself together as I pull out of his arms and truly let him have it. “I have blamed you every day because it’s what was easy. Because it’s easy to tell myself that everything that happened was on you when it’s not. It’s my fault, Ezra. I knew something awful would happen if you left. I had this gut feeling, and I chose not to say anything. I chose to keep my mouth shut because I knew if I said something, you never would have gone, and I didn’t want to be responsible for you and Axel not getting everything you’d worked for.”
His hands run back through his long hair as he starts to pace the small bathroom. “What the fuck are you talking about, Rae? Is this about why you won’t go back home?” he demands, stopping his pacing to search my eyes. “Why are you so afraid to open up? It’s me, Rae. It’s you and me, and despite everything, you know you can tell me anything, and I’ll always be right here.”
My heart shatters. It’s too much, and I pull back again, the tears streaming down my cheeks. “I . . . I can’t,” I cry, breaking piece by piece.
“Rae—”
“No,” I cut him off, starting to panic, but he steps back into me, wrapping me in his arms and holding me to his chest. “Please. Don’t. It’s too much. I can’t . . . I . . . I can’t.”
“Okay,” he finally says as his hand roams up and down my back, holding me as though I were the most precious crystal as he desperately tries to calm me. “It’s okay. I won’t push it anymore.”
Relief surges through me, and I relax into his arms, knowing he’ll stay true to his word and wait for me to be ready. But that doesn’t change the fact that when the time comes to tell him about my horrendous past, it’s not just going to cripple me, it’ll cripple him too, and that’s not something I could do lightly.
“Thank you,” I tell him after the panic has seeped out of my bones. “I promise, when the time is right . . . When I’m ready, I’ll tell you all about it. But until then . . . just know that I’m sorry. I’ve held on to so much anger and hurt, and I don’t know how to move past it, but I’m trying. I don’t want to be this way anymore. I’m done being broken, and I know that if I just allow you to, you’ll make the pain go away.”
“It kills me seeing you hurting like this, Rae,” he tells me. “It was never supposed to be this way.”
“I know,” I say, snuggling into the safety of his warm chest. “But just know that being here with you and getting to see you every day, getting to touch you again . . . It’s helping so much more than you could ever know.”
He rests his chin against my head, and I listen as he lets out a heavy breath. “I never should have left you behind.”
Pulling out of his arms, I force a smile across my face, not wanting the rest of our night to go to shit. “Let’s not get caught up in the could have, would have, should haves. They’re only going to make everything worse.”
He nods, and just as he goes to reach for me, the door barges open and a strange woman looks at Ezra in horror, clearly not having expected to find a man in the ladies’ room. “Fuck,” Ezra mutters before glancing at the woman. “Sorry, I’ll give you your privacy.”
She narrows her gaze as though trying to figure out where she knows him from, and with that, he gives me a small smile, silently asking if I’m good now. I nod, and not a moment later, Ezra slips out of the ladies’ room, leaving me to finally find my composure, and with it, the strength I need to finally start putting the past behind me.