Page 14 of Her Nightshade

I sighed, my guilt surfacing. Was I leading him on? I kept him at arm’s length, but I kept pulling him a little closer with each interaction.

I don’t think it’s a good idea tonight. I just need some space.

There was a pause before his next message came through.

Okay, I get it. I won’t push.

The sound of defeat in his response made me pause. He wasn’t fighting for it this time, and that left an unexpected void. I should’ve felt relieved, but instead, something inside me softened. He wasn’t demanding, wasn’t pushing any further, and that made me reconsider.

I sat there for a few minutes in silence. The thought of sitting alone all night suddenly felt heavier than before.Maybe a quiet dinner with Charlie wouldn’t be so bad after all. Before I could overthink it, I picked up my phone and responded.

You know what…dinner sounds nice.

I hesitated, then added:Come over in an hour.I included my address and even gave him the code for the elevator.

Ay, this is such a bad idea.The thought of Charlie being here, in my space, was both exciting and scary. I could feel the anticipation building in my chest, and as much as I wanted to convince myself this was just a casual dinner, deep down I knew better. I knew what would eventually happen, anddios mio, I wanted it again so badly.

The way he made me feel…it was overwhelming, thrilling, and completely out of control. And as much as I tried to tell myself that keeping distance was the smart thing to do, I couldn’t resist the pull any longer.

I tossed my phone onto the couch and stood up, pacing the living room. I absentmindedly straightened the pillows, tucked stray books into a neat pile, and wiped invisible smudges off the kitchen counter.Why am I cleaning? The place is fine.

And then doubt crept in once again. Was I making a huge mistake? Again? My mind raced, replaying every moment we shared. I wasn’t ready for this. I started to get irritated—I hated that I was second-guessing myself like this. I hated that this all felt out of control.

I grabbed my phone, my thumb hovering over the screen.Maybe I should tell him not to come.

I hesitated, biting my lip as I started to type out the text. But before I could press send, there was a knock at the door, startling me; he was twenty minutes early.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, eyeing the subtle makeup I applied earlier, and the way my hair fell aroundmy face in soft, natural waves. I nodded at myself, trying to calm the nerves twisting in my stomach. For some reason, this felt different, more nerve-wracking than any of our other encounters. Was it because he was coming intomyspace? Or because deep down, I already knew what was going to happen tonight?

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. The second knock at the door seemed louder in the quiet of the apartment, and I couldn’t ignore the excitement I felt. I was walking straight into this, and there was no turning back now.

I opened the door and found Charlie standing on the other side, holding a grocery bag in one hand and a beautiful, trailing plant in the other. His eyes lit up as soon as he saw me, a gentle smile spreading across his face.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said, his voice soft and warm.

“Hi,” I replied, stifling a little school-girl giggle that threatened to escape. I stepped back, motioning for him to come in.

He took in the surroundings as I closed the door behind us, his gaze roaming over the space as he walked in. But soon enough, his attention shifted back to me, his grin soft but knowing. “This place is very you.”

I nearly responded withyou hardly know me, but I stopped myself. The truth was, in some ways, it felt like he knew me all too well—more than I was comfortable admitting.

“So, what are you making me? And what’s that?” I asked, glancing at the plant he had just set down on the coffee table in the middle of the living room.

“It’s a string of hearts. I saw you eyeing my plant collection and figured I’d add to yours,” he said sweetly.

Butterflies swarmed around in my belly and I couldn’t help but smile at his gesture. “Thank you,” I said softly.

Charlie’s grin widened, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. “You’re welcome,” he replied. “And dinner is a surprise. Why don’t you sit down and relax, and I’ll take care of it?”

I could see the need for approval in his eyes, the quiet vulnerability beneath his confidence.

I didn’t protest. I walked further into the living room and settled onto the couch, watching him confidently move through my kitchen cabinets like he belonged there. There was something about the way he carried himself—comfortable, but still seeking my approval in small, unspoken ways. The quiet domesticity of it all made the butterflies stir again, though I tried to push the feeling down. It felt like he belonged there with me, and that thought alone scared me.

“Any allergies I should know of?” he asked, pulling items from the bag while catching me watching him.

I shook my head. “Sloane’s vegetarianism rubbed off on me, but otherwise, I’m good.”

He paused, a look of surprise on his face. “I’m vegetarian as well.”

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