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Carlito looked up from the TV at the distinct sound of a knock at his hotel room door. Had he imagined it? It was after one in the morning, and he was laying on the bed watching an old sitcom on Nick-At-Nite in nothing but his boxers. Maybe he had imagined it?
He got his answer not thirty seconds later - no - as a second series of knocks sounded.
"Yeah - just a minute!" the young man called. He rose and reached for the robe at the foot of the bed to make himself decent before answering the door. Once he had it on and tied, he padded over and unlocked and opened the hotel room door without asking who was there.
His breath caught at who it was, but he was completely dismayed when he realized there were tears streaming down Ashley's face. Not only had she been crying - she still was.
"Ash..." His face was full of concern as he reached for her arm. She handed him one of her crutches and grabbed hold of him as he ushered her inside.
"I'm so sorry to bother you so late, Charlie," she said in a choked voice. She hopped to the bed and sat down, wincing from the pain in her broken left leg.
"No, it's cool," he replied as he propped her crutch against the nearest wall. He took the other as well and placed it beside its twin. "What's wrong? What happened?" He was certain he already knew half the answer as he came to sit beside the blonde. Despite himself, he put his arm around her, and she sank into his touch and then turned to press her face into his chest. She sobbed against him, wetting that area of his bathrobe with her tears as she clung to him.
"It's Matt," she moaned, and it was slightly muffled, but he was still able to decipher her. "He's so cold and distant one minute, and then hotheaded and possessive the next! And..." She raised her head to peer into Carlito's face for a moment but looked away as she continued, as the shame was too much for her. "... And I think he's cheating on me."
"What?" Carlito asked, anger gripping him. How on earth could any man ever cheat on this woman? She was everything any guy could ever want, in every possible way!
"He... He disappears sometimes," Ashley went on with a weak nod. "He never tells me where he's going, and he claims he has an appearance or so and so for SmackDown - but I *know* he's lying!" She wiped a stray tear away and looked into her close friend's face imploringly. "Am I really that horrible to be around, Charlie? Am I not good enough, not pretty enough?"
He gazed into her tearstained face, his heart going out to her. He shook his head at her questions.
"Stop it, Ashley," he said. "You are anything but horrible." Carlito repositioned his hand as he turned to more fully face her, and he gently tilted her head with his thumb and forefinger gripping her chin. She was gazing directly into his eyes as he uttered his next words. "You are the prettiest girl I know... In fact, you're much more than that - you're beautiful, inside *and* out."
Ashley's stomach suddenly felt all floaty, as though a million butterflies were fluttering inside it. A pleasant chill shuddered its way through her as well. She looked long and deeply into the man's dark brown eyes and felt something - something she realized she'd never truly felt before. She was practically speechless and finally managed to say something as well as actually smile.
"Charlie, my God..." She smiled a bit more, feeling her cheeks flush slightly red. "... You... Do you really mean that?"
"Damn straight I do," Carlito answered. His hand was still on her face, and he moved it so that the palm was against her soft cheek, the tips of his fingers brushing gently into her fine blonde hair. "And I'll tell you something else, Ashley Massaro - I think you are an amazing woman. And any man who can't see that or appreciate you is just a fool."
Ashley's breath caught in her throat at the profound words. Was it wrong that she was still experiencing those butterflies, still getting the most pleasant chills, plus a jolt of electricity at his touch? She kept her lips parted, eyes half-closed as she felt so comfortable... so very comfortable and natural, and she wanted in the worst way to just lean even closer to him, and...
Carlito abruptly pulled back, going even a step further as he stood up. Suddenly, he was very aware of the fact that he had nothing on under his robe but a pair of boxers, and she was sitting there in her fairly skimpy pajamas and was very vulnerable. But he'd wanted so very much to kiss her - he'd wanted that and a whole lot more, if she would have let it happen. However, there were obstacles - she still had a boyfriend in Matt Hardy. And he had too much respect for her to allow her to cheat on her boyfriend, no matter how lousy he was.
"Err... Look," he said as he turned back to her, "it's late. I think-"
"Charlie, I don't want to go back to my hotel room," Ashley cut in. "Not after Matt hit me. Can I stay here tonight?"
The young man's eyes widened as he stared at her. Had he heard her correctly?
"What? He *hit* you?!" He was directly by her side again, examining the young woman.
She nodded, her head bowing.
"He slapped me."
Carlito felt his blood boiling. He sat there, silently steaming for a beat, his left hand instinctively clenching into a fist. He wanted to smash that fist right into Matt Hardy's face - *hard*.
"Ch-Charlie?" Ashley's voice was small, tentative and uncertain.
"You can stay here tonight - of course you can stay here tonight." He turned to fully face her, his dark eyes hard, face full of determination. "But let me tell you something... If he ever hurts you like that again... I'll kill him."
Despite the words and their dire meaning - whether literal or figurative, the blonde didn't feel chilled. On the contrary, she actually felt comforted and safe.
Carlito, on the other hand, felt a confliction of emotions inside. This was anything but a simple situation... He now knew for certain one thing, with startling clarity...
... He was in love with Ashley Massaro.