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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.”
