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Ezra lands in a low crouch, his gaze flicking right to mine as though the tether between us is calling him to me. He grins, and his eyes sparkle with wicked desire, warning me that the moment he’s done here, he intends to take me back to the hotel suite and spend the rest of our lives making me feel alive.
He takes his microphone, and the opening lyrics of “Hypothetically Yours” fill the stadium as the beat of the drum vibrates right through the ground and into my body. It’s electrifying.
Why the hell have I been wasting the past four months watching the boys from the wing when I should have been watching them from right here?
Madds loses her mind beside me, not even having spent the last few months in close proximity to the guys has done anything to dull that crazy fangirl spirit of hers, and I love that about her. And I love it even more that Dylan isn’t put off by it. He embraced her crazy, just as she embraced his.
She screams the lyrics of mine and Ezra’s story beside me, clutching my hand in a death grip as I watch my man perform for his loyal fans, my heart racing a million miles an hour. When he glances down at me in the crowd and sings the most adoring words about being hypothetically mine, his eyes sparkle with the most sincere kind of love, and I’ve never been happier in my life.
The first few songs pass in a flurry of wild emotion, and when the heat ramps up and the boys really start enjoying themselves, Madds tugs on my arm. “Check this out,” she says, holding up her phone for me to see.
My brows furrow, having to grab it to see the screen properly as Madds continues jumping around beside me, and I find the text chain between Madds and Dylan, more specifically the discreet text he just sent her while on stage.
Dylan - Quick question. If I sacrifice the moon and the stars for you, then in the very least, would you sacrifice uranus for me?
“The fuck?” I laugh, glancing up at Dylan to find his eyes locked on us, laughing as he realizes I’ve just seen his text. But what I love most is the way he owns it, not ashamed in the least.
Madds can’t help herself. She grabs her phone back, and I watch over her shoulder as she types out her response.
Madds - Abso-freakin-lutely! But give a girl some warning. You can’t just go poking around her black hole without first letting her take a ride down the big dipper and into your milky way.
She hits send, and I watch the frustration on Dylan’s face knowing he has a text but not being able to check it right away. Their flirty and shamefully sexual texts are their kryptonite. It’s partly how their relationship began, and with each daring text, they get crazier about one another. It’s the same for how Ezra writes songs about me. It’s how they communicate, and I love it for them. Hell, I also love it for me, especially when their crazy texts finally gave me the courage to open my own phone and send the kind of text to Ezra that fifteen-year-old me could have only dreamed of sending. I’ve never been so raunchy in my life, but I liked it, and I liked it even more when he checked the text and came running.
The show goes on, and every part of it is incredible, only just as the boys are wrapping up “One Day,” Ezra brings everything to a stop. “Hold up. Hold up,” he says, glancing back toward Rock and Dylan, one hand pushing through his hair, and he grabs the neck of his guitar with the other, lifting the strap over his head. “I’m sorry. I just can’t do this right now.”
Murmurs and shocked gasps begin filling the stadium as I watch Ezra, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. If something was wrong, surely I would have sensed it, right? He’s been staring at me all night, surely I would have seen it in his eyes.
He walks over to the boys, leaving his microphone behind, and he quickly says something to them before they all nod, and not a moment later, Ezra returns to the front of the stage. “I’m sorry,” he calls through the microphone. “I’m sure many of you know that these past few months have been an insane roller coaster for me, and I thought I could wait until the end of the night, but I can’t. I have to do this now.”
Do this now? What the fuck is he talking about?
Ezra holds my stare as the stadium erupts with questions, wondering what the hell is happening, but all I can do is stare back at him, something in his eyes warning me to never look away. “Rae, baby. Get that fine ass of yours up here.”
My jaw drops. “Uhh, what?” I say, knowing damn well he can’t hear me.
“Don’t keep these fine people waiting,” he says as the crowd starts chanting my name.
Ahh fuck, fuck, fuck. Whatever this is, I’m gonna kill him.
Hardin, the head of security, shows up in front of the barricades and offers me his hand. “Sorry, Rae. I’m gonna have to lift you over,” he says, reaching for me.
He doesn’t hesitate to haul me over and set me back on my feet. “Do you have any idea what the hell is going on?” I question as he leads me to the side of the stage before offering me a boost up.
“No clue, ma’am, but take it from my experience, when it comes to Ezra, it’s best to just roll with it.”
Shit.
Shoving my foot into his hand, Hardin boosts me up onto the stage, and just as I get two feet flat on the platform, Ezra appears at my side, slipping his hand into mine. He leads me back into the center of the stage where I feel the weight of fifty thousand eyes on me.
“Switzerland,” Ezra roars through the microphone, “tell my girl how fucking beautiful she is!”
The crowd blows me away, and my cheeks flame as they scream for me. “Holy shit,” I laugh as Ezra pulls me into his side. “What the hell is going on?”
All he can do is grin at me as the crowd continues, and with every passing second, the most undeniable joy swells inside my chest.
“Okay, okay,” Ezra says, trying to settle them down. “Now, I don’t know if you guys know this, but I’ve been in love with this girl since I was sixteen years old. She’s the muse behind all of the songs like ‘Hypothetically Yours’ and ‘One Day.’ She’s been my whole fucking world since the moment I met her, and eight years ago, I made the biggest mistake of my life by leaving her behind when we went on our first tour. I wasted all those years not getting to be by her side, and I don’t know about you guys, but I’m fucking sick of waiting.”
The crowd roars, clearly down with anything that comes out of Ezra’s mouth, and when he turns to me, the rockstar show is over, and I’m faced with the sixteen-year-old boy who walked through my door back in Michigan and couldn’t take his eyes off me. Our souls connected in such a profound way that day, a connection that’s now never been stronger.
