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Of all the things Ezra could've expected from that stupid fucking luncheon, finding out that Billie had chosen someone else isn't one of them. He can't explain what comes over him as she confirms her fuck fest, but rage is the closest emotion the male can pinpoint.
He shouldn't give a fuck, except for the fact that he had waited for her far longer than he would ever admit. As she stares back at him for only a moment, Ezra can only remember the way she felt against him.
Her moans. The way her skin felt against his mouth. How she begged him to tell her how much he wanted her.
How the fuck did he read the situation so wrong? Yet, as she continues to confirm their inquiries, Ezra begins to piece it all together. Billie didn't want to actually fuck him. She just wanted another shot at his game, and, like a horny fucking idiot, he fell right into her trap.
Jude's request to follow him out towards the back alley for a smoke comes as no surprise. He'd been giving him the cold shoulder ever since he showed up at the bus early in the morning before they left for Nashville.
As they turn the corner away from the group, Jude immediately shifts his demeanor. "Are you gonna tell me what the fuck just happened?"
Ezra looks at him blankly, fingers reaching for two cigarettes before handing one to the other. "I don't know what you mean."
"You didn't sleep with her," Jude states, not really asking after what had just occurred. "You didn't come home last night and neither did she, but you two weren't together."
"We were just dancing," Ezra points out before lighting up, "Why would I fuck her?"
"You've fucked for less," he reminds with the cigarette nestled in between his lips. He motions for the lighter, and Ezra hands it off.
"You already heard who she slept with. Why are you interrogating me? Go ask Manny about it, if you're so curious."
"It's Monte," he corrects, and Ezra nearly scoffs. Though he's attempting to display indifference, it's difficult when the other makes mention of the man who actually got to touch her.
For a moment, his mind remains caught on the idea that this guy got to hear those moans too. He wondered if she was as desperate and needy with the photographer as she was with him on that dance floor.
"We didn't sleep together," he replies bitterly. As he puffs on his cigarette for a moment, Ezra adds, "But why would it matter to you if we did?"
"Ezra," the guitarist warns, "Don't fuckin' start this with me."
"You're the one so goddamn worried about what I'm doing with her, so tell me why," he presses before realizing that Jude hasn't taken one draw from his cigarette.
"You know why. Don't make me say it."
"It's not like that," he assures before tipping his chin towards the sky to let the smoke out from his lungs.
