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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.”
