Charlie is watching my hands extra closely as I cut the vegetables so that they can be cooked.

“I’m not going to hurt myself,” I say, smiling, knowing that there is an actual possibility that I will.

“Just be careful, Stella. Please.”

Charlie tries to relax his shoulders and his brow, but he still looks very stressed.

“You said that to me the night that you saved me. Isn’t it strange that was only Friday, though?”

He finally starts to relax and smiles.

“It is strange. I was so angry when I saw that disgusting man on you like that. But I’m glad that I was there to help you, and I’m glad, too, because it gave me a chance to finally talk to you. I had given up on myself before that night, after you asked – “ Charlie trails off.

“After I asked what you trained for?” I question, “You could tell, couldn’t you? You could tell that I was scared?”

Charlie purses his lips a bit and nods, looking slowly to his feet.

“I thought that I’d ruined it too, when you didn’t come back to Lighthouse that whole week. I wanted to see you again, I always liked seeing you, for some reason.”

I smile down at the vegetables, now cut completely and ready for cooking, and think of how I always found strange comfort in Charlie’s regular visits. It’s ironic because he does come off as a bit intimidating, and me being so scared of everything – I should have feared him, but I never did.

I always felt like I should know him, like I did know him. And now I do, I feel like I know him so well. But at the same time, I want to know so much more. I could spend forever getting to know Charlie and still want to know more.

He notices that the veggies are ready and we move to his stovetop. He’s already thawed the chicken and we’ve been boiling the potatoes. I begin to cook the vegetables and Charlie takes on the chicken. He says he usually grills outside, but he’s cheating this time so he can help me season the vegetables properly.

As we begin to cook, he continues our conversation.

“I could tell that you were scared, and I hated myself for it. I wanted you – not in the way that I’d wanted girls before – I knew that I couldn’t have you the way that I wanted if you were scared of me and of what I do.”

“I’m not afraid of you now. I don’t think I ever really was, I was just… getting over an old habit. In fact, besides my brief panic before going to watch you at the gym, I haven’t felt afraid of anything lately.”

Charlie laughs, “That was only yesterday, Stella, you still have time to get scared and run.” He laughs for only a second after, staring down at the grill top before his face turns into a sad frown.

“I hope I don’t decide that you’re scary any time soon, because I am in for a very miserable weekend, if so.” I try to lighten the mood, but Charlie stays serious.

“Stella, if you change your mind about coming to Charleston this weekend, I want you to feel comfortable telling me. You don’t have to feel obligated to come.”

“Charlie,” I roll my eyes, I can’t help it, “I want to spend the weekend with you. Just believe that, okay?”

“Okay,” He says, and he smiles again.

After we’re done cooking, we decide to go back outside to the porch swing and eat. Charlie carries our plates and his water out to the porch while I carry a cherry coke for myself and a bowl of food for Cooper, since I suggested that he eat outside with us.

“Do you like cherry coke?” I ask, setting Cooper’s food down for him and settling into the swing, taking my plate from Charlie, “It’s my favorite,” I add.

“No, I don’t drink much soda, to be honest. I like a coke now and again, but I bought that today because you’d ordered one at lunch on Sunday.”

I smile at Charlie and then look down at my plate, collecting a bit of vegetables onto my fork.

“You are very thoughtful,” I say, taking the bite.

“I’d say you taught me well, these are very good. The chicken is good, too.”

“I can teach you even more sophisticated meals, grilled vegetables are only just the beginning,” Charlie says, smiling and raising his eyebrows. After he says it though, his dark blue eyes fall slowly and the same uneasiness that I saw in him earlier returns. I wonder if it has something to do with his trainer, or if there’s something that he’s not telling me.

“Have you heard from Casey Isaacs? Is Mark alright?”

He looks up from his plate, but not towards me. His blue eyes drift out beyond his yard, and I desperately want to know what is on his mind.

“She hasn’t called or texted, I assume everything will be okay for tonight. Hopefully I’m wrong, and things will turn out all right.”

We talk about lighter things after that and after we finish eating, we clean up the kitchen together. It’s getting late and I’m feeling so sleepy. The past couple of days with Charlie have been amazing, but it’s been such a ride, too. I know I’ll sleep well again tonight though, because I feel safe with him.

As I’m wiping the counter, I feel Charlie’s body press to my back, and he brings his big arms around in front of me, stopping my hands that hold the dishrag.

“I think it’s clean enough, baby,” He whispers near my neck, kissing me. I tilt my head, hoping that he will kiss more of my neck, because his lips feel so perfect on me. Instead, he takes his hands from mine and places them firmly on my waist, spinning me around and picking me up, setting me onto the counter. His deep but playful eyes look into mine, and a smirk sets in on his sweet lips.

His face is so close, but I don’t move towards him. I’m in such a daze. His hands are on my thighs; they are so soft and warm. He moves them up, letting his fingers slip into my shorts, but not far, before leaning in to kiss me.

I kiss him back, opening my mouth and moaning into his. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want Charlie.

We keep kissing; I start to play roughly with his hair, tugging at his curls. He pulls his hands from my shorts and grabs my waist, pulling away from my lips. I keep my lips on him, kissing his perfect jawline, under his ear, down his neck.

“Stella,” He whispers, and he tightens his grip on my waist, picking me up and carrying me through the living room and down the hall, into the bedroom.

***

I lay under the covers after, feeling sleepy and dazed. Charlie lies beside me, but further down on the bed, one of his arms is settled loosely around my lower waist and his head rests on my tummy.

Most of Charlie’s curls lay more in waves, but there are scattered, short ringlets that I like to twirl around my fingers. As I play with his hair, I smile to myself.

“Before you actually introduced yourself to me, I had heard Mr. Miller call you Charlie, but I only thought of you as ‘the boy with curly hair.’”

Charlie laughs lightly against my bare skin.

“I just wanted you to be the one to introduce yourself to me. I don’t know why.”

“I was the same with you,” he says, “I’d read your name tag and heard your boss and blonde co-worker call you by name. But I thought of you as ‘gray eyes,’ even though Stella suits you perfectly.”

“Gray eyes?” I giggle a little.

“Yes, I noticed your eyes right away. They remind me of the sky, just after it’s rained.”

“How poetic of you,” I smile, but inside, I appreciate that he’s actually thought about the color of my eyes.

“Mmm,” He hums, nuzzling his face into the skin of my stomach.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” I say, mentally cursing my bladder for ruining the moment.

He groans and lifts himself off of me, scooting up on the bed and laying his head on the pillows.

I kiss his forehead and get up from the bed, picking his flannel up off of the floor and wearing it into the restroom. The fabric hangs to just below my butt and I can feel Charlie staring at me from the bed as I close the bathroom door behind me. I use the restroom and wash my hands before turning towards the full-length mirror that hangs on the door to Charlie’s closet.

I brush through my hair with my fingers before letting my arms drop back to my sides. I stare at my fairly exposed reflection.

I have always loved fashion and beauty, so I pay attention to how I look in that respect; but unlike most girls my age, I suppose, I can’t remember the last time that I actually studied my natural appearance.

I guess it’s just because, before Charlie, I never thought that anyone was really looking at me, nor did I very much want anyone to.

I am not short by any means – a little taller than 5’7. Of course, I never feel tall around Charlie, whom I figure must be about 6’4. I’m slender, but I have a girly body: a definite waist with a soft curve to my hips, and decent sized boobs. I’ve always been quite pale, a fair complexion juxtaposed to my dark, auburn hair. My hair is very long, hanging to my natural waist in loose curls. I have fairly large gray eyes, curtained by my predominant lashes; a smaller nose that turns up very slightly at the end; lips that are neither particularly thin, nor overly full, but very rosy – almost as rosy Charlie’s lips; and my cheeks have a subtle, natural blush to them.

I hear the bathroom door open slowly and Charlie comes inside. He’s put on his boxer briefs, but that’s all. He sees me staring in the mirror and wraps his arms around my waist from behind, kissing my cheek.

“What are you doing, baby?”

“I-“ I don’t really know what I was doing, and watching him hold me and kiss me in the mirror is too distracting.

His body is unreal. I’ve never seen more perfect muscles, and I probably think about them too much. So many guys are either completely un-toned or abnormally bulky, though; Charlie is the perfect balance. His tall body was built to look strong and his muscles suit his frame perfectly. His hair always looks perfectly messy. All of his features are strong, but there is somehow a juxtaposed softness about them, too; making him attractive and cute all at once. His eyes are what I love most, though. They are large, and deep, and gentle, and kind. I trust his eyes.

Charlie continues to kiss my neck, brushing my hair to one side. His large hands then grab slowly at my sides, gathering the fabric of his shirt that I’ve put on.

“I like when you wear my clothes,” He says into my neck.

“You look amazing in anything – or nothing,” I feel him smirk against my skin, “But I especially like you in my shirts.”

I turn around suddenly and kiss him, biting down very lightly on his bottom lip.

“I like wearing your clothes, too. They are comfy and they smell good.” I go back to kissing his face, his skin is so soft everywhere.

“Stella, you weren’t looking in the mirror and feeling insecure, were you?”

I laugh a little, wondering if Charlie felt awkward asking me that.

“I was feeling very narcissistic, actually. No – I’m joking. I was just staring, really.”

“Just – never feel insecure, okay? Especially not around me. You are so gorgeous, and you’re much more than that to me.”

I lean my head into Charlie’s chest and smile.

“Do you want to get ready for bed, baby?”

Charlie starts shuffling around the bathroom, brushing his teeth and splashing water onto his face.

I had packed a cute, short, baby pink nightdress, but I leave Charlie’s flannel on instead. After I’ve retrieved my makeup bag, which contains my toothbrush, face wash, lotion etc. Charlie is ready for bed. Drying his hands on a towel, he looks down at me.

“You can leave all of that in here, you know. You don’t have to pack it all back into your bag.”

I nod, squeezing toothpaste onto my toothbrush. I wonder if Charlie means for me to leave it all here tonight, or should leave it tomorrow, when I go to school as well?

I finish getting ready for bed, turning off the bathroom light and making my way to Charlie, who is already lying under the covers, his head resting on his bended arm that is slung behind him. The whole house is dark, aside from the bedside lamp, and Cooper is already asleep in his bed. I love feeling at home at Charlie’s.

I crawl under the covers and Charlie takes his arm from behind his head and puts it around me, leaning behind me first to turn off the lamp.

“I love being here with you,” I say, mostly without thinking.

“I love having you here. You’re my favorite company.”

I smile, but he feels that he’s done wrong.

“I don’t ever have this sort of company over though – I don’t want you to think that, by favorite, I mean that I have many – ”

I just laugh and snuggle into his chest, “I know, it’s alright.”

He is quiet for a while before he replies, “I’m so afraid to say or do the wrong thing with you.”

“Don’t be afraid, Charlie. If you can’t be honest around me then you’ll end up resenting me, and I don’t want that. You haven’t said or done anything to truly bother me and I don’t think you will.”

He chuckles a bit, but there is doubt in his voice, “That is very optimistic, Stella.”

“Charlie, has there been something else on your mind? Other than what’s going on with the Isaacs tonight, I mean?”

I hear him sigh, “No,” He says quietly, “I just want to be good for you.”

“Charlie,” I sit up and look into his eyes, the room is very dark, but the light from the window illuminates his face and I can see the depth of his midnight eyes. His brow is scrunched into his rather endearing, not-angry-just-thinking frown.

“I don’t know of anyone who has less reason than you to doubt that they are worthy of being loved.”

I mentally scold myself, because he may have just mistaken that as me saying, “I love you.” Which honestly, I think that I do love Charlie already, but I definitely don’t want him to feel cornered into saying anything, I just don’t want him to constantly be afraid of me, or anyone else, pulling away from him.

We are still looking at one another and he finally smiles, relaxing his brow and softening his eyes again. He pulls me close and settles both of us back down into the bed, allowing my head to rest on his chest like it had been before.

He reaches for my hand and brings it above my head, to his lips, kissing my knuckles, then my hand, and my wrist. Then, he laces our fingers and brings our hands to rest on his stomach, where it is comfortable for us both.

“I’m glad that I have you here, Stella. Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, Charlie,” I whisper, moving my head slightly to kiss his chest as I had the night before.

***

As I come to the place between sleeping and waking, I realize that I’ve been brought out of my slumber by movement underneath me, and heavy breathing.

I think that I lift up my head, but I’m not sure, and I haven’t yet opened my eyes. I start to shift away from what’s moving, but I can’t escape it.

I’m only just starting to realize that it is Charlie who’s moving violently in his sleep, and that he is shaking the whole bed, when I feel something hard collide with my cheek.