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Ryan left hours ago, but it feels like minutes. I watch him drive away, the sound of his engine fading down the street, leaving this strange emptiness behind. The apartment is still, quiet, too quiet. It’s like his presence was the only thing filling the space, and now that he’s gone, the air feels heavy. I lean against the door, trying to calm the rush of thoughts swirling in my head. Every nerve in my body is still buzzing from the way he touched me, the way his lips moved against mine like he was starved for me.

God, I’m a mess.

I drift into the living room and collapse on the couch. Annika’s sprawled out, flipping through the channels with a bored expression until her eyes land on me. She grins wide, like she’s got all the answers.

"Girl, you’ve got it bad," she says, sitting up and raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow at me.

I snort, tossing a pillow at her, but she’s not wrong. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" She’s not having it. Annika leans forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Nat, come on. I’ve never seen you like this. You’re practically glowing. Did he do something to you, or should I say... did you do something to him?"

I groan, burying my face in my hands. "It’s not like that."

"It’s totally like that." She’s laughing now, and it’s infectious. I can’t help but laugh with her. "Do you even hear yourself? This guy has you in a daze. You’re floating around like you’re in some rom-com. You didn’t even blink when he walked out the door!"

"He’s... different," I admit, my voice softening. And it’s true. Ryan is unlike anyone I’ve ever known. There’s this intensity about him that pulls me in, this raw, magnetic energy that makes everything else fade away when he’s near. It’s terrifying, but it’s also exhilarating. And then there’s this possessive, protective side, and man, the way that makes me feel.

"Different, huh?" Annika grins again, wiggling her eyebrows. "Different as in 'I’m already planning your wedding' or different as in 'I’m swooning just thinking about him'?"

I throw another pillow at her, but she dodges it, laughing harder. "Stop it."

"I’m just saying! Have you seen the way he looks at you? It’s like he’s ready to take on the entire world just to keep you by his side. And let’s be honest, that man is smoking hot. Like, seriously. He could probably crush a watermelon with his biceps."

I blush furiously, trying to play it off. "He’s not—"

"Oh, he totally is." Annika interrupts, standing up and mimicking the way Ryan stands, all broad shoulders and towering frame. "Big, scary wrestler dude who can barely keep his hands off you. He’s so possessive. I could practically feel it radiating off of him the second he walked in here."

She’s not wrong, and that thought sends a thrill down my spine. I’ve never had someone look at me the way Ryan does, like I’m the only thing in the world that matters. It’s intense, consuming, and I can’t get enough of it.

I sigh and sink further into the couch, my mind wandering back to the feel of his hands on me, his lips trailing down my skin. It’s like every time I think about him, I fall deeper into this spiral of wanting him. And God, it’s all-consuming.

Annika giggles beside me, clearly reading the expression on my face. "You’ve got it so bad," she repeats.

"Maybe," I say again, softer this time, but the smile tugging at my lips gives me away.

Annika throws a blanket over herself, shaking her head. "Just don’t forget to breathe when you’re around him, okay? You look like you’re going to pass out half the time. Not that I blame you—he’s a freaking god."

I laugh, the sound light but tinged with nervousness. "It’s just... it’s moving so fast."

"And you’re loving every second of it." She winks before grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. "I’ve gotta head to class. Try not to explode from the sexual tension while I’m gone."

I throw the last pillow at her retreating form, my cheeks burning. "Shut up!"

Once she’s gone, the apartment feels emptier than before. I wander around aimlessly, cleaning up here and there, but my mind is far from the present. Everything feels... different now. The hours seem to stretch longer, like time itself is taunting me, dragging out the minutes until I see Ryan again. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’ll be on my way to Washington for the next round of shows. And Ryan’s big match.

I stop in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. What is happening to me? This feels like more than just a fling, more than just some casual thing. Ryan told me I belonged to him, and the way he said it, the way he looked at me, made me believe it. But what if I’m wrong? What if I’m just another girl to him? Another fleeting moment in his busy life? I mean he said it during sex, we still haven’t had a real conversation about what is going on between us.

Doubt starts to creep in, slowly at first, like a whisper in the back of my mind. He’s a professional wrestler, a star in his world. He’s probably had a million girls throw themselves at him. What makes me any different? What if I’m just another notch on his belt?

I sit down on the edge of the bed, chewing on my lip. I don’t want to think like this. I don’t want to ruin what we have before it even starts. But the fear is there, lingering just beneath the surface. What if I’m not enough for him? What if I’m just a way to fill some time?

As if sensing my spiraling thoughts, my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I pick it up and see his name flashing across the screen.

Ryan: Fuck, I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

My heart skips a beat, and suddenly, all the doubts evaporate like smoke. A small smile pulls at my lips, and I fall back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’ll be in his arms again, and everything will be okay.

I type out a response, my fingers flying over the screen.

Me: I can’t wait either.

As soon as I hit send, the knot in my chest loosens. Whatever this is between us, it feels real. I just have to trust it, trust him. Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.