Page 60 of Her Nightshade

“Reese!” he barked, his voice cutting through the chatter of the room. Everyone froze, the studio falling into silence.

Reese turned, pulling off the headset he had on one ear, his expression a mix of annoyance and confusion. “What now?”

“You’re fired,” Charlie growled, his voice low and seething with anger. “Get the fuck out.”

Reese’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re fucking kidding me,” he said, disbelief turning to anger. “Over what? Over talking to Ana?”

“You upset her, so you’re done,” Charlie snapped. His voice rose as he turned to address the room. “In fact, let me make this clear: if anyone else has anything to say about me and Ana, you can get the fuck out and not come back. Ana is here withmefrom now on. She’spart of me. So I suggest everyone get the fuck over it and do your jobs.”

The room stayed silent and tense. Reese, however, wasn’t finished.

“You should doyourfucking job, Charlie,” he shot back. “Not a single thing has been done since you walked in here. You’ve wasted hours, days, weeks, because you’re too busy obsessing over her to get ready for this tour.”

Charlie took a step closer but Reese wasn’t backing down. “You know what? I’m happy to go,” Reese spat. “Clean this fucking mess up yourself.”

Without waiting for a response, Reese threw his headset onto a table and stormed out, the slam of the studio door echoing through the room.

Charlie stood there, his chest heaving, his face a mask of fury. Slowly, he came back to me, his eyes softening as his shoulders dropped. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

I nodded, though my stomach churned. The room was still silent, everyone pretending to busy themselves, their eyes flicking our way when they thought we wouldn’t notice.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” I whispered.

Charlie shook his head firmly, his gaze intense. “No. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

His words should have reassured me, but as the silence stretched on, Reese’s accusations echoed in my mind.Am I too much of a distraction? Am I dragging Charlie down, hurtinghis career?The doubt lingered, clawing at me as I tried to push it away.

We stayed for another few hours, the rehearsals resuming as before, as if nothing happened. I found a quiet corner and opened my laptop, determined to take up as little space as possible. I didn’t want to give anyone a reason to whisper about me.

But he didn’t make it easy. Charlie checked on me more often than necessary, his strides purposeful as he crossed the room to where I sat. Each time, I felt the weight of every pair of eyes following him. Yet, instead of feeling annoyed or embarrassed by the attention, an unexpected swell of pride filled my chest.

He wasn’t hiding me, like I was trying to hide myself. If anything, his actions were a declaration. I wasn’t just someone tagging along; I was someone who mattered to him. I mattered to him more than anything: his career, his friends, his staff.

That should have worried me, troubled me…but instead, I let myself bask in the satisfaction it gave me. No one had ever felt this way about me before, and it was intoxicating and thrilling, in the way that only Charlie could make me feel.

It was thrilling and absolutely, completely destructive.

* * *

The next few days were almost identical: hours at the studio where I’d melt every time I heard Charlie’s voice, followed by his constant check-ins, as if I might disappear the moment he looked away. We’d return to the apartment only to obsess over one another, as though we hadn’t just spent the entire day together.

Even after all of this time, my love for him wasn’t waning. If anything, it was growing stronger with each passing day, consuming me in ways I hadn’t known were possible.

But being outside of our bubble every day brought something new into focus. I had to watch Charlie interact with more people—beautiful people, women who smiled too easily or laughed too loudly at his jokes. He paid no attention to them. And yet, the jealousy ignited in me like a spark every time.

I hated the way it made me feel, hated the tightness in my chest, the irrational anger that flared inside of me. I hated who I was in those moments. But at the same time, I couldn’t imagine living any other way.

Loving Charlie was all-consuming, thrilling, and maddening in equal measure.

And I was losing myself. I was acting in ways I didn’t know I was capable of.

We were finally in Madison Square Garden, everything coming into place for the tour. The venue was buzzing with technicians, crew, people scattered about, putting everything into place. Charlie stood near the stage, talking to a woman I didn’t recognize, but the earpiece she had on hinted that she worked for the crew. And she was stunning. She leaned towards him, brushing her hand over his arm as she spoke. He wasn’t flirting but he wasn’t shutting it down either. He looked over at me, oblivious as he gave me a warm smile.

If he’s going to act oblivious, I’ll remind him what he has to lose.

I turned, scanning around until my eyes landed on Trevor. He stood near the other side of the stage, guitar slung over his shoulder, concentrating on tuning it. Charlie hated Trevor for some reason.

Perfect.

---