Billie had not known love like this before she met Ezra. That notion consumed her mind the second he called her out on stage and sang her name in front of everyone. He had exceeded every one of her expectations and still managed to find ways to surprise her. Come to think of it, Ezra had done nothing but shock Billie to her core this summer.

As he says goodnight to the crowd, Billie can't conceal the prideful grin adorning her features. In all her wildest dreams and fears when it came to Ezra Moore, she never expected this particular emotion to consume her. She's proud — to be his and to watch him up on that stage singing those sad songs with an entirely new tone. For the first time in this tour, Ezra hadn't been drowning alone in his sea of fans or suffocated by his lyrics. Something changed in him, and it changed for the better.

As Ezra turns towards the wings, his eyes are practically brimming with tears. He barely makes it off stage before practically colliding into her arms, tears drenching the crook of her neck. "It's okay," Billie breathes, fingertips reaching to hold the back of his neck while her free hand pulls him tightly against her.

Her eyes skim over the roadies keeping themselves busy instead of watching Ezra unravel so openly. Though she's not ashamed, Billie wants to give him the privacy he deserves to process his emotions. All of Ezra's life had been put on display for so long, and some things deserved to be private. So, she guides him to his dressing room and locks the door behind them.

"I'm sorry. I'm just overwhelmed," he mumbles against her skin.

"Don't apologize," she replies, "I just wanted to give us some privacy."

"I haven't felt like this in so long," he chokes out, tears pooling once more. "It's like every emotion is pouring out of me. I can't stop it."

"I hope that's a good thing," she offers with a cautious chuckle.

He pulls away, tattooed hands rubbing at his eyes before peering into hers. "Tonight was the second best night of my life," he assures, "Thank you for singing with me. You have no idea what that means."

Billie can still smell the artificial cherry on his breath, chest aching at the notion that he never had the opportunity to be out on stage with someone who loved him as greatly as he loved them.

"Second best?" She laughs with a teasing grin.

Ezra echoes her laughter, tears finally drying. "The first was when you told me you loved me," he admits, "and tonight is when I finally let you. Fully, I mean. I've never let anyone in like that before."

"You've never sang with anyone but Grand Motel on stage?" She questions with furrowed brows and a swelling heart.

Ezra shakes his head, a smile returning to his features. "Out there it's different. I feel different, and I didn't want to share that part of me with anyone. I hadn't even planned it ... but I saw you watching, and I wasn't afraid anymore. I want to share everything with you, Willow."

Once more, Billie is left breathless. Her heart nearly crumbles at his vulnerability. Words had never truly impressed her, but his actions continually redefined her perception of who Ezra Moore really was. How many more secrets could he possibly be holding on to? How many more layers lay beyond his no longer guarded heart? 

"I love you," she breathes, "I meant what I said out there. I'll sing with you as long as you let me."

"As long as there's songs to sing," Ezra assures, "I'll want you right there with me."

She presses her lips against his for a long and deep kiss. They stay embracing for a few breaths while their bodies melt entirely into each other. Without warning, a soft giggle escapes past her lips that causes Ezra to reluctantly pull away.

"What's so funny?" He grins with a raise of his brow.

"I never thought I'd be your first anything," she admits, "And now I get to say I took your stage virginity."

"My stage virginity?" He repeats with a laugh, "Is that what we're calling it?"

Billie nods with a cocky grin. "Yup, and I'm wearing it like a badge of honor."

"So, I take it you've sung with other people on stage?" He prods.

"I never said that," she corrects.

"Oh, so I took your stage virginity, too," Ezra boasts, devilish grin forming.

"You might've," she shrugs with a knowing grin.

"Well, was I any good?"

"You were the best I could've ever had, Ezra," she assures. "Now, I get to ask you a question."

"Go ahead," he encourages, fingertips toying with the ends of her blonde hair.

Billie attempts to think of some flirtatious query that will end up with him ripping this dress off her, but her mind remains stuck on the wild notion of sharing everything with him. She didn't want it to stop after this tour. Not now, not ever.

"Would you consider moving to New York?" The words come out before she can stop them, mind not able to filter out her deepest desires from her stream of consciousness.

Ezra pauses for a moment, lips parted as he attempts to push out the right words. Billie can feel her stomach twist, cheeks immediately flushing with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, that was way out of left field," she admits with an embarrassed laugh.

"No, I-I didn't mean to pause," he assures quickly while stumbling over his words, "It's just, I didn't think you'd ask me."

"What do you mean?" She questions with furrowed brows.

"I know you're planning to start The Collective in New York," he admits, "So, I just thought I'd make the trips between there and LA. I figured maybe you'd want some space to get everything started with the girls."

"I don't want space from you," she admits with a laugh, "That's the farthest thing from what I want. Everything I've worked for is coming to fruition, and I want you to be a part of it."

"If you want me there, then I'll be there," Ezra assures softly, hands moving to rest on her waist.

"I want you there," she affirms, "But only if you want to, too."

"I'll have someone start looking for apartments," he confirms with a grin before pressing a quick kiss against her forehead.

Billie tugs him closer, lips barely touching as she looks up at him. "Maybe we should look together," she suggests.

"As in you want to pick where I live, or as in you want to live with me?" He breathes out, voice hopeful and uncertain.

"The second one," she clarifies with a smile, heart skipping a beat at the idea of them taking such a serious step.

"Okay," he barely whispers, and it almost looks as if he's fighting back tears once more.

"I want to share everything with you, too, Ezra," Billie admits, "Everything." Without another word he presses his lips against hers, fingertips tightening around her waist.

Billie can feel her core knot as she deepens the kiss and their tongues mesh. A soft groan slips past his lips as her hands find the buckle of his belt. "Right now?" He grits out, unable to mask his desire as his lips press against hers once more.

"I don't want to wait to get to the hotel," she begs, "Please." They had been fairly tame since starting up the tour again, though the two hadn't slept in the buses since before New York. Instead, they rented out hotels so they could be as loud and intimate as they wanted. But Billie doesn't care who hears them now. All she cares about is extinguishing the flames of desire burning her core.

"You remember the first time I tasted you?" He reminds, teeth moving to tug at her bottom lip. Now, it's her turn to moan. She can feel herself ache and throb at the memory ingrained in her mind. "I had you a whimpering mess with one lick," he teases with a cocky tone, fingertips moving to slip under her dress and run along the lacy fabric. "You were so willing to spread those pretty, little legs for me the second I asked."

"Ezra," she pleads, unable to think straight. It's as if something has switched inside him. The sweet, sensitive man before her has been replaced with something far more dark and dominant.

"You want to be spread out on the vanity again?" He questions, but she's far too concerned with his fingers slipping underneath the lace to circle around her sensitive bud. Billie's hand greedily runs over his hardened length while nodding eagerly. Ezra's free hand captures her chin, forcing their eyes to meet.

"Use your words," he insists.

"Yes," Billie manages to get out while his fingers rub at an excruciatingly slow pace. "Make me come on the vanity."

"That's my girl," he praises, fingertips slipping out of her dress to find her hand and lead her across the room. The vanity is only a long countertop with a wide mirror fastened to the wall. Billie begins to position herself on the counter, while Ezra stares greedily at the sight of her dress bunching up around her hips and her legs spreading.

He wastes no time falling to his knees. Instead of slipping her underwear off, Ezra haphazardly pushes them aside and quickly runs his tongue against her. He laps her up like water, fingertips gripping her thigh to keep her legs parted as he sucks her sensitive bud.

Billie can't help her moans, fingers practically white knuckling the edge of the counter as his pace increases. "Right there," she encourages.

"You're not coming like this," he mumbles against her, "Save that for when I'm inside of you."

"B-But," she mewls, "I'm so close."

"Tell me you want to come on my dick," he coaxes, "Tell me, Willow."

"I want to come all over you," she pants out, moans filling the dressing room as he relentlessly circles her bud. "Please, Ezra. Fuck!"

He pulls away right before she can reach her climax, and it causes a frustrated groan to escape her lips. Still, she knows that they're not nearly anywhere finished. Billie instinctively reaches for panties and pushes the fabric completely off while Ezra works on freeing himself from his boxers.

"What are you waiting for?" She questions impatiently, fingers teasingly rubbing herself as if to prove that she'd be willing to finish herself off if he won't.

Ezra grips her wrist, gently tugging her from the counter. "Turn around," he demands.

"Thought you didn't like doing it like this," she points out before turning around to face the mirror. The femme is able to see Ezra clearly through the reflection, and his intentions need no further explanation. He would take her from behind only if he could see her face, and this was the perfect opportunity.

"Bend over for me," he insists, "Your ass has been teasing me all goddamn night in that dress. I want to see it."

Billie does as she's told, and Ezra grips her supple flesh. "So, fuckin' sexy," he praises before teasingly rubbing himself against her entrance. Their eyes meet and burn into each other through the reflection before he slowly pushes inside her.

"Oh, fuck," she pants out, unsure if she take all of him from this angle. Her breasts press against the cold counter as she arches her back and widens her stance in order to create some relief as he stretches her out.

"You want all of it?" He questions while one hand steadies himself and the other presses against the small of her back.

"Yes," she breathes, head nodding. "I want all of you."

"Good girl," he praises while pushing deeper inside her, "I know you can take it."

The painful pleasure burns through her, her core already knotted as she attempts to stifle another moan. Ezra is slow with his strokes to start, silently acknowledging her need for him to ease into their positioning.

"You like being fucked like this?" He grits out, clearly trying to slow himself while gripping at her hips.

"Mhm," she hums, "Just like this." Ezra quickens his strokes, attention entirely focused on her through the reflection. Billie can't conceal the pleasure consuming her, lips parting to moan with every thrust.

"Fuck," he groans, "You feel so fuckin' good." She can barely think when his movements grow more desperate and rough. "Come on this dick, baby," he coaxes, "Come for me."

"Right there," Billie begs, "Don't stop."

Ezra is eager to follow her command, and he keeps his pace level as she begins to tighten and pulse around him. It's not long before she's a whimpering mess. Moans of pleasure bounce around the dressing room that are far too loud to conceal. She doesn't care, though. The entire world could hear Ezra pounding into her, as long as she could feel this good every single time.

He's not too far behind. His strokes grow sloppy as he sinks into her fully one final time while reaching his climax. Ezra leans forward, lips pressing against her shoulder before his teeth graze the fabric of her dress in an attempt to stifle his cries of euphoria.

After a few moments, he lets out a content sigh. "That feels better than any high I've ever had," he mumbles against her, eyes still pressed shut in bliss. For a moment, Billie feels her stomach knot. It's so obvious now that she's ashamed she hadn't noticed it in the first place.

His eyes flutter open to meet hers through the reflection once more, chests both heaving in an attempt to catch their breath. She can't conceal the concern plastered on her features, bottom lip practically quivering as she's met with his saucer-like gaze.

"Willow," he breathes, "What's wrong?"

"Your pupils," she croaks.

"What?" He blinks before slipping out of her, "What about them?" Ezra frantically moves to pull up his pants, hand reaching to help her turn around.

Billie is reluctant to face him as she pulls down her dress. "They're huge," she states, "I didn't notice before."

"They're just like that because we were having sex," he stutters out while fumbling with his belt.

"Then why aren't they getting smaller?" This time her voice is much quieter as she mentally works through the last dozen times they'd been together since the beginning of their week in New York. Had she really never noticed?

"Willow," he states, tone serious, "I swear I'm sober."

"They've never been like that before." She tries to keep her tone level, not wanting to accuse him of anything. However, Billie had seen Ezra high before. She knew what his eyes looked like then, and this is exactly how they were.

"Maybe it's my anxiety meds or the adrenaline after the show," he points out, "It could be a dozen things. Pupils dilate over nothing."

"And you promise you didn't take anything?" Billie finally questions, unwilling to dance around the subject any longer. If he had deceived her, she wanted to know. Then, they could move forward and work towards his sobriety once more.

"I promise," he assures after a breath, hand reaching for hers. "I've been sober, and I plan on staying that way."

She pauses, trying to perceive any sign that should lead her to believe the contrary. However, Ezra had promised her he wouldn't lie again. He promised he'd get sober, and she wants to believe him. She needs to give him the benefit of the doubt if they were going to make it in this relationship.

"I'm sorry," she exhales, head shaking slightly as her vision falls to the floor, "God, I'm so sorry. I trust you. I just, I scared myself over nothing."

"It's not nothing," he assures, hand cupping her jaw in an attempt to catch her line of vision once more. "You know me better than anyone, and I want you to continue calling me out on my bullshit when you see it."

"You've been doing so great," she assures, "I have so much faith in you. I don't want you thinking I don't."

"I don't think that," he assures, "We're gonna get through this. It's just going to take some time."

"Maybe you should go to NA," Billie hesitantly suggests, "It might be helpful to have a support group or someone to talk to that understands what you're going through."

"After the tour," he assures, "When I move out to New York, I'll go to three meetings a day if it makes you happy."

"I don't want you doing it for me," she corrects, "It has to be because you want to."

"I know," Ezra nods, "I want to. I just need to finish this tour and then I can work out a plan. We can figure it out together, okay?"

Billie sucks in a breath while debating opening up a can of worms regarding his sobriety. She doesn't want him to put his recovery on hold, but he had been doing so well on his own that maybe Ezra did know what was best.

Three harsh knocks against the door interrupt their conversation before she can reply. "Yeah!" Ezra calls out, tone strained.

"Are you two done in there? We wanted to go out and celebrate!" Ambrose replies in a jovial tone.

Billie can feel her cheeks flush, an embarrassed laugh escaping from her lips. "Maybe we shouldn't go," she suggests, unsure if it's the best environment for either of them to be in right now.

"No, we should," he insists, "It'll be fun. You have nothing to worry about."

"Okay," Billie nods reluctantly, hand squeezing his.

"We'll be right out!" Ezra yells. "You can trust me," he assures while turning to Billie once more, "I'm not going to do anything that will fuck up what we have. I've waited too damn long for you, Willow, and I'm not about to ruin it over some stupid pills or powder."

"You can't ruin this," she assures, "Even if you hadn't been sober, it wouldn't change anything between you and me. I just wanted you to be honest, so we could get you help if you needed it."

Ezra stares at her for a beat too long before pressing a kiss against her cheek. "Enough sobriety talk. Let's go have some fun," he suggests while his head nods towards the door. Billie nods and pushes down her worry until it nestles in the pit of her stomach. 

He's sober. He hadn't lied. She needed to trust him. 

These thoughts play on repeat as they head for the door, eyes caught on faded 𝟔𝟑 adorning his wrist.