Page 54 of Her Nightshade

I glanced towards her office door, the faint sound of her voice drifting through. My world had narrowed to her, and the idea of stepping outside of it, of focusing on anything else, sent a spike of dread through me. She was going with me, but it wouldn’t be just the two of us anymore.

I knew Reese wouldn’t let up, and the clock was ticking. I had to figure this out, because Ana was now my only priority.

* * *

I managed to get Ana and myself out of the apartment the next day for a meeting about the tour. The media hadn’t let up onour whirlwind romance, and there was always a camera or five waiting to catch a glimpse of us.

As we stepped onto the concrete, heading to the waiting car that Miles drove, someone snapped a picture. The click of the shutter sent a spike of irritation through me and I snapped.

“Get the fuck out of her face!” I barked as Ana slid into the backseat.

“Hey, man, I’m just doing my job!” the paparazzo shot back, unfazed.

“Yeah, fuck off,” I muttered under my breath, getting into the seat beside her and slamming the door harder than necessary.

“You’re so tense, baby,” Ana said softly, reaching over to take my hand.

“I’m just not looking forward to any of this,” I admitted, turning to meet her gaze.

“I know,” she said with a nod. She understood—I shared my anxiety about stepping outside our bubble. Though I knew she felt the same, she was the one pushing us along, being the more responsible of us two. “But I have a surprise for you when we get back home.”

She gave me a slow, teasing smile. I knew exactly what she meant.

“What is it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, though my heart pounded wildly in my chest.

“You’ll have to wait and see,” she teased.

She’s going to fuck me.Fuck. Yes.

“Well, now I don’t want to go,” I said, grinning as I took her hand and pressed it against my instantly hard cock. “Let’s go back and you can show me.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “No. You have to get through your meeting and then you’ll be rewarded,” she said, her voice sultry and confident.

I let out an exaggerated groan, leaning back in the seat. “I’ve been waiting so long for this,mi diosa.And I’ve been so good,” I added with a grin.

“I know you have,mi vida.That’s what’s going to make it even better,” she replied, her smile promising everything I had been craving.

I could barely concentrate during the meeting. My thoughts were divided, torn between the anticipation of what awaited us back at the apartment and the simmering jealousy that flared when Ana left with Miles for “errands.” He was a tall, good-looking chap, and I didn’t want her seen with anyone but me.

The conference room buzzed with energy that felt stifling to me. A projector displayed a timeline for the tour—weeks of relentless shows, press, and travel—and yet, I could barely focus. My knee bounced under the table, my hands trembling as I counted the minutes until I could leave and get back to Ana.

“We’ll need to finalize the press strategy before rehearsals ramp up,” Reese said, glancing around the table. “There’s already a lot of media attention on the two of you, Charlie. We need to decide how much of that narrative we’re leaning into.”

I tensed, my gaze snapping to Reese. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means…” Reese continued carefully. “It means your relationship with Ana is dominating headlines. It’s not a bad thing—it’s keeping you relevant. But we need to control the story. Maybe let a photographer in for a staged shoot? A few well-timed comments in interviews?”

“No,” I said flatly.

Reese sighed. “Look, I’m not saying we exploit it, but the fans are eating this up. It’s good for ticket sales, for merch—”

“I said no.” My voice came out sharper and louder, making heads turn.

“Alright,” Reese relented, raising his hands defensively. “But that brings us to the next point: rehearsals. We’ve only got a couple of weeks before Madison Square Garden and we’re behind schedule. We need to hit the ground running, and that means full-day rehearsals starting tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there,” I muttered, already deciding Ana would be with me the entire time, even if it meant she just sat at the side of the stage—as long as she was there.

“Will you?” someone piped up from across the table. It was Trevor, one of the members of the band I had known for years but never truly liked. “Because you’re not very reliable lately.”

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