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The Next Night
Ashley looked up from her journal, her pen still in hand, at the sound of the knock. Carlito was standing just in the doorway of the guest room where he'd let her stay, his knuckles having rapped lightly on the open door.
"Hey," she said. "Come on in."
The young man stepped slightly further into the room, slightly tentative as he did so. It was strange, even to himself. After all, this was his house. He just had the oddest feeling as she was sitting propped up in the bed in this room. She was in a nightie, the blanket over her up to the waist, her little spiral notebook in her lap. She'd been in the middle of writing her innermost thoughts. He felt as though he were intruding on her - strange as that was, since she'd called him, asking to come over.
"Hey," he said. "I just wanted to check on you, see how you are. And I wanted to say good night."
She gave him the tiniest but prettiest smile and gestured to him to sit on the edge of the bed.
He swallowed hard, actually somewhat nervous as he approached her. He did as she directed and seated himself, facing slightly away from her in shyness. And why should he be feeling that way with Ashley? They'd been friends for months now...
... Maybe it was because he really, truly liked her. Sure, he'd had crushes on a couple of other girls in the WWE before her, but this was different. It wasn't just his hormones reacting this time. He really had genuine feelings for the pretty blonde diva.
Ashley studied him in silence, a warm feeling washing over her. He was truly sweet, a godsend. Thank goodness he'd answered the phone when she'd called him at such a crazy hour the night before, and allowed her to come over. If not for him, what would she have done? She could have gone home, but that wouldn't have been a good idea because she would have been easily found. She could have called Trish, but the Canadian woman had her hands full with her boyfriend John, and she really didn't want to put her out. If it hadn't been for Carlito, who knows what Matt might have done? She shivered at that thought, willing it far, far away from her mind.
"Are you cold?"
The small blonde looked up at the sound of his voice. It was a good thing his question had knocked her right out of her unpleasant reverie.
"No... I was just thinking, that's all," she replied. She reached out for his hand as he turned more towards her. "Charlie, I want to thank you again for being so kind and for letting me crash here." She shook her head. "I-I don't know what I would have done without you."
Carlito stared into those lovely sea-blue eyes and actually wished she could stay here with him forever, but he didn't utter a word of that aloud. Instead, he nodded and offered her a small smile.
"Don't mention it. It was the least I could do." He eyed her in silence for a beat afterward, thinking, I love you... I would do anything for you. You are a goddess and should be treated as one.
"Seriously," she said, shaking her head just a tiny bit as she rested it against the pillows she had propped up against the headboard, "I'm feeling a little sore." She raised her arm, the one Matt had forcibly grabbed, and studied the bruises. Sure enough, in less than twenty-four hours, they'd darkened. Thank goodness he hadn't hit her in the face!
Seeing those horrible miscolorations on the delicate, milky, soft flesh was about enough to send Carlito into a rage. He wanted in the worst way to head on over to the arena the SmackDown roster had traveled to, seek out Matt Hardy and beat the tar out of him. He never could comprehend how any man could put his hands on a woman in anger and violence. They weren't men! "Just rest up," he told her. "If you don't feel better in a couple of days, we'll get you to a doctor." He squeezed her hand gently, enjoying the fact that he was still holding onto it. He enjoyed being with her so much, loved that she was such a "toucher." The only thing he would have changed about the situation was the fact that she was hurting after being mistreated. Well, that and the fact that she was still technically with that bastard Hardy. Although she'd run away from him in the middle of the night, she'd never told him she'd broken up with him beforehand, or left him a "Dear John" letter. That actually hurt his heart. It wasn't even so much for himself than for her, since she truly deserved better - a lot better.
"Okay," Ashley spoke. Her eyes had been closed for the briefest moment, as she was very tired from her ordeal, and they felt all bloodshot. She opened them and gazed up into Carlito's kind brown eyes and felt all floaty inside. Hell, she could no longer deny to herself how she felt about him...
... She was falling for him. And the more time they spent together, the harder she fell.
The young man once again became self-conscious and looked away. It wasn't that he didn't want to stare deeply into this beauty's eyes and hold her hand forever... He was just feeling strangely shy. And plus, he had to leave her so she could get some sleep. Lord knew, the poor thing had barely gotten any rest in the last two days.
"Okay, I'm going to leave you now," he said, gently pulling his hand out of hers. He was about to stand up to leave when she stopped him.
"Wait, Charlie." She was still gazing at him, the oddest, serious expression on her lovely face.
"Hmm?"
Ashley pushed herself up slightly from her relaxed position, her lips on his cheek for a kiss. Actually, she kissed him very close to the corner of his mouth, damn near getting it. It was a quick peck, nothing more, but to Carlito, it felt pretty nice. He couldn't help the smile that came to his face.
"Good night, Ash," he said as he rose a moment later.
"Good night."