9. Ana
9
Ana
C harlie was quiet after we came together. I knew something was on his mind and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear it, because I was certain I knew what it was. I’d seen that look in his eyes so many times before, and it broke my heart while mending it at the same time. I couldn’t keep reeling him in like this. I was too scared to admit my own feelings, because I was in deep . I needed him and that terrified me, because I had never felt this way before. That wasn’t me. I was proud to be self-sufficient, proud to need only myself for happiness. I didn’t need anyone to complete me. But now, with Charlie, it was different. He had broken through those walls and the idea of needing someone else—needing him —was shaking everything I thought I knew about myself.
Every time I felt out of control with him, I took the lead sexually, as if it could help me gain the upper hand. But now, I was starting to see it for what it was—I was only digging myself into a deeper hole. Each time I tried to control the situation, I only lost more of myself to him.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts.
We lay together on my bed, his arms around me, and I cuddled closer, wanting to feel the warmth of him. We stayed like that for a moment before I sat up on my elbow, leaving my other arm draped around his chest. “I’m thinking that I’m starving. You never finished making our meal,” I joked, trying to make things light.
He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Guess I got a little distracted,” he said playfully, but the disappointment in his voice was undeniable.
I could feel it, the heaviness creeping back in. I was in denial about how far I had let this go, how much of him I was pulling in without fully giving myself back. I was continuing to hurt him whether I meant to or not.
I swallowed, trying to keep my tone light. “Maybe you should…maybe you should go. Get some rest. We can finish dinner another time.” The words felt forced but I couldn’t ignore the unspoken tension between us anymore.
He blinked, clearly taken aback, his hand frozen on my waist. “You want me to leave?”
I sighed, sitting up. “It’s not that I want you to leave, Charlie. I just…” I trailed off, unsure of what I wanted to say. I tried searching for the right words but found myself caught between what I felt and how I was too scared to admit it.
He sat up beside me, his eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. “Just what ?”
I glanced at him, my heart heavy with guilt. “I don’t want to keep doing this if I’m just…hurting you.”
His face shifted, the playful spark in his eyes fading. “Hurting me?” he repeated, his voice low. “Ana, it hurts me to be away from you.”
I looked down, avoiding his gaze, wringing my hands together. I didn’t know how to respond to that.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Charlie. I just…” My voice trailed off again, my emotions tugging my heart in opposite directions.
He sighed, his hand still resting around my waist but lighter now, almost like he was afraid of touching me. “Then don’t push me away. You keep saying you’re afraid of hurting me, but this hurts more than anything you could do.”
I stiffened, the defensiveness rising in my chest. “I’m not pushing you away,” I shot back, pulling away from his touch. I stood up, crossing my arms. “I’m trying to figure things out, Charlie. I keep asking for space and you keep nudging yourself back in, making it impossible for me to think straight.”
His eyes widened with a mix of frustration and fear. “I’m nudging myself in because I don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. He got up and stepped towards me, his desperation heightening. “Ana, I’m scared that if I give you too much space, you’ll disappear…that you’ll decide I’m not worth it.”
I froze, his words hitting me harder than I expected. “I’m not going anywhere, but I need to breathe, Charlie. You can’t just cling to me like this; we’ve literally only known each other for a few days.”
He gripped my hand. “I know, but it doesn’t feel like just a few days to me. It feels like…” His voice cracked again, and the vulnerability in his tone caught me off guard. “I don’t care how long it’s been, Ana. I can’t help it—I need you.”
I shook my head, stepping back slightly, trying to put some space between us. “Charlie, you’re suffocating me. I don’t even know what this is yet, and you’re acting like it’s already too late, like you’re going to lose me if you don’t hold on tighter.”
He stepped forward, refusing to let me create that distance. “Because that’s how it feels! I don’t know how to slow down, Ana. I don’t know how to just…let you go without feeling like I’m losing something important.” His voice was strained and he ran his hand through his hair, the frustration clear on his face.
I looked away, guilt and confusion swirling inside me. “It’s not fair to put that kind of pressure on me. I can’t be the thing that holds you together. You have to stand on your own, Charlie.”
“I know that,” he said quickly, his eyes wide and pleading. “I’m trying, but it’s hard. Being with you is the only thing that makes sense to me right now.” He took my face in his hands, his touch both gentle and desperate. “Just tell me you’ll stay, that you’ll give this a chance. Please.”
I swallowed hard, his words sinking into me, twisting around my own uncertainty. “I can’t promise you anything right now. It’s too much, too fast, and I need room to figure out how I feel. You can’t keep pushing me like this.”
His forehead rested against mine, tears welling in his eyes as he whispered, “I’m not trying to push you. I’m just scared; I’m scared that you’ll realize you don’t need me at all.”
I closed my eyes, his vulnerability breaking through my defenses. “That’s not fair to either of us.”
“I know,” he said softly. “But I’m not going to give up, Ana. Even if you need space, I’m still going to be here. Waiting. Wanting you.”
His lips hovered near mine, and before I could think of what to say, they crashed into mine again—this time more urgent, more desperate. The tension from our argument ignited something between us and my hands instinctively grabbed his waist, pulling him closer.
We stumbled backwards, my back hitting the wall as the kiss deepened, all of our anger and frustration dissolving into passionate, heated desire. His hands slid from my waist to my hips, gripping me tightly.
I broke away for a second, panting. “Charlie, this isn’t going to fix anything…”
“I know,” he whispered, but his mouth was back on mine before I could protest further.
I let myself fall into him again, surrendering to the pull I couldn’t resist. I had laid everything bare and he wasn’t going to back down. Maybe that’s exactly what I needed—or maybe it was dangerously toxic. But I pushed it aside, because somehow, I wanted him more than ever.
* * *
I lay beside Charlie in the faint morning light, his tattooed, muscular body relaxed in sleep next to me. It was as if my words from the night before had never been spoken. After our heated exchange, we ended up having wild, passionate sex. Without needing to say a word, he stayed the night, and now in the quiet aftermath, the reality of it all settled around me.
Charlie wasn’t going to let me push him away. He wasn’t going to leave. Even if I shoved him out the door, screaming at him to stay away, I knew he’d break it down and force his way back in. And why did that excite me? Why wasn’t I more terrified? Instead of running, I was drawn to it—to him . This rockstar, this icon, this man who could have anyone in the world, was desperately throwing himself at me and refusing to let go. And it wasn’t scaring me off. It was pulling me in deeper.
I refused to continue to think of what was happening between me and Charlie. All I knew was that I wanted to live in the moment. And right now, I wanted him— badly . No matter how many times I had him, the itch never seemed to be satisfied.
As I gulped down a glass of water in the kitchen, the memory of his body against mine sent a rush of heat through me, goosebumps prickling my skin at the thought of what he did to me. And of what I did to him.
I casually walked back into the bedroom, wanting to steal another glimpse of him before he woke up, but when I stepped through the doorway, I found him already awake, staring down at a phone in his hand. My phone.
My heart dropped as I froze in place, the casual ease of the morning suddenly evaporating. He looked up at me with wide eyes as if he’d been caught.
“? Qué estás haciendo ? What are you doing?” I demanded, marching up to the bed and snatching my phone out of his hand.
He didn’t say anything at first, his lips parting like he was trying to come up with an excuse, but my attention shifted to the vibrating phone in my hand. Sloane’s name flashed across the screen.
I felt the tension grow between us, my heart racing. “Why are you going through my phone, Charlie?”
“It was going off. It woke me up. I thought it was mine,” he said, a sincerity in his eyes that made me believe him.
Tension immediately released from my shoulders as I sighed, glancing down at my phone before turning to walk out of the room. “ Hola , baby,” I answered, my voice softening as I stepped into the hallway.
“Hey, I tried calling you yesterday,” Sloane’s voice came through with a mixture of concern and curiosity. “Are you okay? I haven’t heard much from you lately.”
I leaned against the wall, my eyes drifting back towards the bedroom where Charlie still sat. “Yeah, I’m good. Just…a little distracted.”
He instantly flashed his charming, dimpled smile at me as he listened in on the conversation. I had to look away, biting back the smile that crept onto my lips. It was infuriating how easily he could disarm me.
“Distracted, huh?” Sloane teased through the phone. “Any particular reason why?”
I sighed heavily as I walked further away from Charlie, needing privacy. “Charlie Ashford will not leave me alone,” I said quietly and playfully.
Sloane gasped on the other end. “No way, Mom,” she said with a laugh. “Tell me everything,” she demanded, and it was the only time I ever felt uncomfortable with how open we were with each other.
“I…I don’t know, baby. I’m not sure what this is yet. It’s intense. He’s intense,” I admitted, making my way towards the terrace, needing some air.
“I told you, Mom. He’s a little crazy,” she said, her voice still casual despite her words.
“What? You said he was sensitive…a hopeless romantic?” My heart started to race; was Charlie actually known for being “crazy?” And why did that surprise me? Didn’t I already know that?
Sloane let out a soft chuckle. “Well, yeah. He’s both. That’s why everyone says he’s a little crazy when he’s with someone.”
For some reason, the thought of him being with anyone else made my chest flutter with jealousy. I wasn’t a jealous person—at least, I never had been. But all of these new feelings Charlie was stirring up inside of me left me feeling like I was a whole different person.
And then it hit me—this feeling Charlie had for me, this intense obsession, wasn’t something he reserved only for me. It wasn’t unique. He’d been like this with others before, and I hated how much that upset me. The thought of not being the only one who made him feel this way gnawed at me, sparking an ugly jealousy I never expected to feel.
“You there, Mom?” Sloane’s voice snapped me back to reality.
“Yeah. I have to go, baby. I’ll call you in a bit,” I said, my voice clipped and breathless from the jealousy biting at my chest.
I ended the call and stormed back into the room. Charlie looked up and smiled as I entered, but I couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling of not being special, of just being another one of his obsessions.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes widening as his smile faded.
I paused, staring at him, the words swirling in my mind. “Have you ever felt this way about someone else?” I blurted out, my heart racing. “Or am I just the latest in a long line of people you’ve been obsessed with?”
His face instantly fell, hurt flickering across his features before determination took over. “Ana, no. You’ve got it wrong,” he said, his voice rising as he got up and took a step towards me. “I’ve never been like this with anyone else. Not even close.”
I held my ground, arms crossed, my heart pounding. “You’ve never done this before?” I asked with accusation.
“No,” he growled, his voice firm and unwavering. “Not like this. Not like I am with you.” His eyes locked onto mine, full of desperation. “What I feel for you—it’s not some fleeting obsession. This is fucking real, Ana. You’re different. I don’t just want you…I need you. I’ve never needed anyone like this.”
I paused and I couldn’t look away. He was adamant, almost to the point of being frightening in his conviction. And I hated the relief that washed over me, my jealousy turning into something else—something darker, triumphant. It felt wrong to crave this kind of validation, yet I couldn’t deny how deeply I needed it. His obsession wasn’t scaring me anymore, and that fact alone began to frighten me.
His eyes searched mine, his breathing heavy, and then quietly, he said, “I love you, Ana.”
I froze, my heart thudding in my chest. His voice softened almost to a whisper, his desperation turning vulnerable. “I was afraid to say it before. I was afraid I’d scare you away. But I can’t hold it back anymore. I’m in love with you.”
The words hung in the air between us and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. He stepped closer, his hand reaching for mine. “I don’t just need you, Ana. I love you. Completely. And I’ve never felt like this about anyone.”
I stared at him, every part of me reeling from his confession. I didn’t know if I was ready to hear those words, but something about the way he said them made it impossible to turn away or argue.
His green eyes softened as he looked at me, sensing my hesitation. “You don’t have to say it back,” he said quietly. “I don’t need to hear you say you love me. I just need you to know how I feel…to know that I’m entirely devoted to you, more than anything, no matter what.”
I exhaled slowly, relieved that he wasn’t pushing for something I couldn’t give. He stepped closer, his hand squeezing mine gently. “I’ll wait for you, Ana. However long it takes. I just want you to know that I’m not going anywhere.”
It was impossible to deny the comfort his words brought, the reassurance I didn’t know I needed. “Thank you,” I whispered.
And even though I couldn’t say it back, I already knew—I loved him too. The realization hit me like a slow burn, warming my chest and settling in deeper than I expected. I wasn’t ready to admit it aloud, not yet, but it was there…and it was undeniable and terrifying.