#multipart:BITN

[champhangman]

Bleed Into the Night - Part Eight

Title: Bleed Into the Night Part: Eight / ? Characters: Hangman Adam Page x OFC Summary: She wasn’t looking. Neither was he. For a brief flash, they found each other. Word Count: 4,690 Warnings: Alcohol use, hella cursing, and glossed-over smut. Previous: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four  | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven |  A/N: shout out to Ash and Jamie for encouraging this part   

Tagging: @adampage / @cowboyshit / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch / @wardl0w / @what-does-mine-say / @snarkandsarcasmftw / @drewshoneybadger  / @mysteryoflovve / @knnyomega / @rampagewriting / @hurricanranabaybay / @kploveswrestling

Eight

Looking forward to having you in my arms again.

Serena read the message again. It had been sent early that morning, before Adam's flight, and had been followed by a flurry of texts detailing all the things he couldn't wait to do with her. Her smile faded as she read the other messages. Would it have killed him to say he couldn't wait to just hold her? Granted, she wanted to do everything else too, but—

"Big plans with your cowboy?"

Groaning, she locked her phone and looked at Cole. The truth was they had no plans. She'd all but given up on plans. It was a rare occasion that made Adam want to go out unless it was for drinks, and in recent weeks he'd been unwilling to do even that. It had led to several arguments that always left her feeling sick inside, the sickness escalating when he tried to smooth things over with lovemaking. She felt as though she had to tiptoe around his obvious moodiness now, not wanting a quarrel to start up.

She knew he was going through something. Knew that the depressing turn his storyline on Dynamite and BTE had taken came from somewhere within him. It mirrored his own insecurities and anxieties. He'd told her that. She just wished he would open up and tell her those worries and doubts instead of seemingly expecting her to unravel them by watching the story unfold.

"Just dinner and maybe some drinks," she said with a quick smile. "What about you and Britt?"

She breathed a silent sigh of relief when Cole animatedly told her what he and Britt would be doing on their days off together. They were going to spend a day at the beach while the weather was still perfect. They were going here, and there, and had plans to meet up with friends and family.

Serena kept her smile in place as he spoke, swallowing back the bitter taste of envy. Adam had met her parents once, completely by accident. And though her mother had loved him in an instant it had been obvious her father had reservations. He still clung to the idea that wrestling was just a phase that she would outgrow, and that she would regret it when she either lost interest or got injured and had nothing to fall back on. He had all but interrogated Adam about his plans for the future. When he had learned he used to be a school teacher he had launched into a brief tirade on how he should have stuck with that. During the whole debacle she had only been able to sit there, unable to stop her father after several tries, and had finally taken the bottle of wine her mother pushed toward her and gulped down several glasses. Then her father had topped the whole thing off by saying he hoped they were using birth control.

Adam hadn't asked about seeing her parents again. Nor had he brought up her meeting his family. She'd asked and he'd said they could do that over the holidays, that his parents didn't travel and with their schedules…

"Mermaid?"

Blinking, she noticed that Cole had stopped talking several moments before. She pressed her lips together and gave her head a tiny shake. She needed to stop thinking about all the things that were wrong and focus instead on all the things were right. Her career was going well. Her title reign was being touted as prestigious. There were already talks about her being moved up to Raw or Smackdown by the year's end. And, despite the hiccups with Adam, she kept reminding herself that they were okay.

"Things are okay with Page, aren't they?" Cole asked.

"Of course," she promised quickly. And they were. They had both brought up possibly moving in together soon. Once she was sent to the main roster, when she wouldn't be expected to be in Florida five days a week. Because he didn't want to leave Carolina, and she hated living in Florida, they had tentatively agreed that she would move in with him. They could use the apartment he kept in Jacksonville for the times they had to be in Florida.

She loved him. He loved her.

She was pretty sure he loved her.

"Why don't we all get together tonight?" Cole slung his arm around her shoulders and guided her towards the gate, where people were lining up to board the flight.

"I don't know…" If Adam's texts were anything to go by, he had plans for them, and those plans surely didn't include Britt and Cole. Her phone buzzed in her hand and she glanced down.

Connecting flight delayed. We'll probably get there at the same time.

She texted him that she was boarding, fingers moving quickly to tell him she couldn't wait to see him and that she loved him. Relieved when he returned the words of love, she pushed her phone into her pocket.

"We can go out to dinner," Cole told her. "It's karaoke night at Dillon's."

She wanted to sing. Wanted to drag Adam up to sing with her, because despite his grousing whenever she got him to, he always sang so nicely and put his all into whatever song was chosen. She loved hearing him sing. Loved that he always looked at her. Even if they were just singing some dopey love song while fixing dinner in his apartment or hers, he always turned to look at her.

"Yeah, that sounds great," she heard herself say as they boarded the plane. After getting to her seat she sent a text to Adam with the tentative plans, adding that she really wanted to go, then waited several moments for him to reply. None came and, with a sigh, she switched on airplane mode and settled in, hoping for a nap during the flight.

Hours later, feeling grimy and sleepy, she dragged herself through the airport, slightly disheartened by the lack of texts from Adam. She told herself that he was probably in the air, or that he hadn't seen her message before boarding, but while waiting for her Uber she sent him another text to let him know she'd arrived and would see him at his place. And frowned when he replied immediately.

I got here about an hour ago. See you in a few, baby.

Her excitement over seeing him outweighed the sinking feeling that he wouldn't want to go out, and by the time she got to his building she didn't care what they did. She just wanted to be with him. He probably hadn't seen the text, she thought as she jogged up the last few steps and approached his door. It opened and there he was and she forgot about her plans for them to go out with Britt and Cole. Grinning, she leaned up for his kiss, squealing as she was tugged into the apartment. Her suitcase clattered to the floor, as did her backpack, and she briefly marveled at his gracefulness when he lifted her, spun, and kicked the door shut in one fluid motion.

"Hey," he greeted between fevered kisses that tasted of whiskey and soda, one hand diving beneath her t-shirt.

"Hey," she gasped as she stumbled against the end table. She heard the lamp there topple.

Adam held her to him, fingers stroking her side beneath her shirt. Resting his forehead against hers, he sighed, the hand on her hip squeezing.

"I missed you," she murmured, lifting her hands to cup his face. There was a line between his eyebrows that she didn't recognize. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." His eyes drifted shut when her fingers slid into his hair. "I just missed you is all."

"I'm here now," she pointed out. "C'mon, let's go lay down."

He groaned, lips finding hers for another kiss. "Can't wait to get to the bedroom."

"It's all of ten feet—" Serena cut off with a moan and threaded her fingers through his hair more securely. "Couch?"

"Works for me, baby."

She gave in to the chaotic need, her last coherent thought that there was always a slight panic when they met no matter how brief the separation. As though he thought he'd forgotten something about her body. Or feared she had forgotten how well he took care of her needs. There was an impatience, too, which she usually loved, because it was nice knowing that he couldn't wait to make love to her.

Hands scrambling, they pulled and tugged at each other's clothing. Moans and harsh breaths snatched between them as they sank onto the couch, where the chaos grew into a frenzy. Filled and surrounded by him, his scent in her nose and his taste on her tongue, she forgot everything but him and how much she loved him. Their bodies slid, slippery with perspiration, but his grip on her was firm. The only air she could catch came from him and she grew weak, his name a breathless plea. His voice grew faint but her name was clear when it rolled off his tongue while as his body strained.

Sated. Weak. Sweaty. She hummed as his fingers brushed locks of hair from her face and sighed when he offered a reverent kiss before easing his body off hers. Watching him reach for the blanket over the back of the couch, she pushed herself upright. "I need a shower," she murmured, leaning in for another kiss. "You wanna join me?"

"Maybe in a minute," he sighed, fingers trailing down her arm as she stood.

"Which means you'll be asleep before I get out," she laughed, stepping over their discarded clothes to get to her suitcase. Then, remembering she'd left clothes during her last stay at his apartment, she turned and headed for the bedroom. She paused, watching him stretch out on the couch, and cleared her throat. "Cowboy… We're going out, aren't we?"

"Dinner and drinks with Cole and Britt." He dragged a hand over his face.

She took that as confirmation that he wanted to go and, relieved, headed into the bedroom. It occurred to her after she'd gotten into the shower that she should have let Cole know she and Adam were coming, but it was still plenty early. She lingered in the shower, half-hoping he would join her even though she knew he'd probably dozed off and would grumble that she should have waited for him when she came out. After drying her hair and dressing in the black jeans and purple and black plaid flannel shirt he'd hung in his closet for her. She stood in front of the dresser long enough to gather her hair in a bun, eyes dancing over the items that scattered the polished surface. His wallet, the bottle cap that for some reason he tended to keep in his pocket. Propped against the mirror was a picture of them backstage after her title match and she smiled, remembering the silly smile on his face when he'd seen the same picture on her bedside table.

Carrying her shoes to the living room, she saw that Adam had gotten up from the couch. Their clothes still littered the floor. The lamp was still on its side. She sighed and moved to right the lamp, dropping her shoes by the couch. He'd probably gone into the kitchen for water or a snack. Opening her mouth to call to him that they could eat out, she paused when she heard the clink of glass against glass. She stepped over his discarded boots and entered the kitchen. "Hey, Cowboy, you ready to go?"

It was obvious he wasn't ready. Standing at the counter in just his boxer briefs, his curls in wild disarray, he sent her a bewildered look while pouring whiskey into a glass. "Go where?"

"Dinner. A few drinks. Karaoke night at Dillon's?"

"Hell," he muttered, setting the bottle down with a thump. He lifted the glass and took a small sip. "That involves putting on pants…"

Serena rolled her eyes. "Really?"

"I'm already comfortable." As though to prove his point, he idly scratched his bare chest. "Why don't we just stay in and be cozy?"

"You can push your legs into your jeans one leg at a time… It doesn't take that much energy," she pointed out. "And your shirt snaps up for Christ's sake."

"I'm tired." He took another, larger sip. "Can't we just stay in?"

"Knew that was coming," she sighed. "Cowboy…"

"I just got here. So did you." The glass met the counter with a heavy thud. He poured more whiskey into it. More than he usually did, especially from that bottle. The brand that a friend had turned him on to, made with local honey and limited to short batches. His good whiskey. She had a bottle just like it at her place, hardly touched because he got a little weird when she drank his whiskey. He took a gulp and hissed as it went down. "I was already out, Dimples."

"But I want to go out," she said gently. She didn't want to have this argument again. It was always a roundabout that went nowhere. "We haven't gone out in weeks."

"We went to Cole's."

"That was over a month ago." Frowning when he gulped down the rest of the glass, she thought about walking over and taking the bottle. But knew that would lead to a larger argument. And she was so weary of the arguments. Even if they blew over and were smoothed with hours-long lovemaking, they wore her out. Left her feeling anxious and scared. "Adam—"

"You always want to go out," he said, and her eyes widened at the bitterness in his voice. "Fuck, can't you just be happy to be with me?"

"I am, but—"

"Dinner. Drinks. Karaoke. Shopping. We've got food. We've got drinks. We can sing just as good here as we can in some stupid fucking bar. Don't you ever want to just fucking stay put?"

"That's all we do!" she snapped.

"It's not." The glass slammed down, his precious whiskey sloshing over the rim. "Why am I spending my days off with you if you can't be happy staying in?"

"I've been asking myself the same question."

His head jerked up, and from across the kitchen she could feel the ice in his eyes. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Did you just want me here to fuck me?" she asked, sucking in a breath when he snatched up the glass.

"Why do you come here?" he fired back, scowling as he downed the whiskey in one gulp.

"Because I like being with you," she ground out. Closing the space between them, she grabbed the bottle and jammed the top on before he could refill his glass. "But—"

"Sure," he snorted. He let the empty glass fall onto the countertop, dragging both hands through his unruly hair as it rolled and clattered against the knife block.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She reached for the glass to place it in the sink. Before she could, though, he blocked her.

"If you like being with me so damn much, why do you always wanna go somewhere? As soon as we finish fucking, you gotta do something. Can't you just be happy?" He closed his hand around the glass. "With me?"

"What is wrong with you?" she asked. She tightened her hold on the glass, not liking the desperation in his grasp. "I am happy with you!"

"But?" he sneered.

"But you keep doing this!" She hated the look in his eyes. Almost haunted. "You come in and fuck me into oblivion then… This!" she stressed, gesturing at the glass. "And even when we have plans to go out to eat or see a movie or what-the-fuck-ever, you back out. You're tired. You're worn out. You—"

"I'm fucking exhausted after traveling all goddamn day to be with you!"

"And after you've slept?" she challenged. "Tomorrow? When you've had a good night's sleep and feel better? What excuse will you use then?"

"What?" His eyebrows pinched together, and she wasn't sure if it was irritation or confusion.

"What's your excuse gonna be, Adam? Oh, it's raining? Oh, we can throw something on the grill? Or are you just gonna distract me with kisses and sex?"

"Oh, so now sex is a distraction?"

"You seem to think so! Anything to stay in and drink, right?"

"I like to unwind."

"I do, too. But it shouldn't take half a fucking bottle." She frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!"

He shouted the word and she lurched back, eyes widening. "Adam—"

"I'm tired, Serena."

Her frown deepened. He never called her Serena anymore. She was always Dimples. Or baby. He only referred to her as Serena when he was introducing her to someone. "Tired of what?"

"Everything."

"I'm tired, too," she whispered. She let go of the glass, swallowing a gasp when his precious whiskey sloshed. It splashed over his arm, on his chest, and she listened to it land on the floor. Droplets rained down, pattering on the floor, and she felt her throat close up when he slammed the glass down. He snatched up the bottle and wrenched off the cap, taking a gulp before finally looking at her again.

"Tired of what?" He hissed the words out after swallowing another gulp.

"This," she whispered. "The fighting and the drinking. I'm tired of you not wanting to be seen in public with me."

"That's a fucking lie."

"Is it?" she challenged.

"Dimples—"

"Why don't you ever want to go out with me, Adam? And don't say it's because you're tired. You're never too tired to go out with the guys on tour. You're never too tired when Dax or Cash want you to go bar hopping as soon as your flight lands."

"You think I'm ashamed of you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she cried, hating the sting of tears. "Is that why you never want to go anywhere? Because you don't want to be seen with the fat girl?"

The bottle slammed down on the counter. "How could you think that?"

"What else am I supposed to think?!"

"You're not the fat girl." The statement burst from his mouth with anger. "I've never seen you as the fat girl."

"Bullshit. It's always a fight to get you to go anywhere." She frowned. "Except when it's somewhere no one will see us. Like the camping trip—"

"Me wanting to be alone with you is bad," he snapped. "Most women would be over the goddamn moon."

"I'm not most women," she whispered.

"No." He reached for her. She gave a little cry of surprise when he pulled her to him. "Dimples… Baby—"

"No," she gasped, pushing at his chest. Not like this. Not now, when she was mad and sad and worried. Not when he wouldn't answer her questions. Not when he reeked of whiskey. "Adam, no…"

He shoved her away with a pained sigh. "Never thought you'd turn down a kiss."

"Is that all I am to you? Someone to kiss? Someone to fuck?" Her body met the counter next to the fridge and she reached to grasp the edge, needing the support.

"If I just wanted someone to fuck, I wouldn't have to drag my ass all the way to Florida."

Her heart slammed to the floor. It took with it all the breath from her lungs. "Oh," she whispered. "So I'm not just an easy fuck, I'm inconvenient?"

He didn't answer immediately and she felt weakened when he sighed.

"I can't do this," she gasped. Just before her vision blurred she saw him reach for the bottle again. Pushing away from the counter, she rushed from the kitchen, stopping at the couch long enough to pull on her shoes. She tried her best to keep the tears from falling, swiping them away angrily when they began to slip down her cheeks. Grabbing the clothes he'd peeled off her so recently, she nearly stumbled to where her bags had landed, a sob escaping when his hand landed on her shoulder.

"Dimples—"

"You don't let me in," she sniffled, cramming her clothes into her backpack. She heard something inside snap but didn't care enough to see what she had broken. "Just when I think I've loved you enough to push away all those insecurities you have they come back up. I'm not strong enough for this, Adam."

"Baby, please…"

"Don't 'baby' me." She shook his hand away and reached into the side pocket of her backpack for her phone. "The only time you let me in is when we're having sex."

"That's not true."

"Is anything we do true?" she asked, turning to face him.

"It's all true," he promised.

Her eyes slid to the bottle gripped tightly in his hand. "That whiskey is the only true thing here, Adam."

***

His hands were shaking. His lungs felt full but he couldn't exhale. His heart was thudding and dropping and with each beat of his pulse he was sure he could feel a new splinter. "Dimples," he whispered, still struggling to believe he was watching her get ready to leave. "We're true."

"Are we?"

Adam's breath stuttered over his lips. "We have been since the beginning."

"We weren't true even then," she said. She blinked and he saw tears slip down her cheeks.

And felt his heart shatter. "No," he said, unsure if he was agreeing with her or making a different point. His brain was too fuzzy for this. He'd been traveling all fucking day, and he'd had a few… He glanced at the bottle in his hand and slowly leaned to set it down. It wasn't fair of her to start this at the worst possible time for him to deal with it. "We've been true, Dimples."

"When? When I blew you by the lake? Or when I finally broke down and slept with you?"

He flinched at the coldness in her tone. "Before that. When you were in the hospital. The night I came to see you in the ring."

"It wasn't even real then." She shook her head. "It felt real for a bit, but now it's just…"

"What?" he asked, dragging his hands through his hair. "It's what, Serena?"

She gulped. "It's not real. No matter how much I try to make it real, it's not. It's… It's not you, it's not me. It's both of us. I'm in love with the idea of being in love. I either fall for the guys who only want an easy fuck, or I fall for the guys who can't bear the thought of touching me. I thought you were different, Adam."

"Dimples—"

"Don't!" she cried out, squeezing her eyes shut as a sob rippled up her throat. It tore through the air, lodged straight in his chest, then drove upward into his heart. "You can't just call me that and flash your pretty smile and think it'll be okay! And don't say you're not, because that's what you do! I need more than sex when we're able to be together. I need the man I fell in love with. The guy that stayed up for over a full day because he was scared and worried about me. The one who held me and sang beautiful songs so I could get some sleep. I need the man who built up my confidence to the point I thought that, maybe just once, the fat girl could win the gorgeous man with the heart of gold."

"I can't be that man all the fucking time," he tried to explain.

"I'd be happy if I could just see him every once in a while," she whispered.

He took a step toward her, heart faltering when she snatched up her backpack. "Dimples…"

"I gotta go," she sniffled, and he knew she hated the tears that were falling. Hated showing what she considered a weakness. Probably hated him for not being able to argue harder.

But he couldn't. He was still trying to wrap his mind around why she was so upset. Why going out was so important to her. And why, apparently, having a lot of sex was a bad thing. He was scared to open his mouth and say the wrong thing, the thing that would upset her so much she would never speak to him again. He was scared that she was really leaving him, that this wasn't going to be some little hiccup in their road to forever.

"If you come across any of my stuff, just give it to Britt? She can give it to Cole for me." She slung the strap of her backpack over her shoulder and squatted to get the handle of her suitcase.

"Dimp – Serena," he pleaded, reaching for her. But his fingers only caught air as she stepped away. His splintered chest shattered. "Don't."

"I love you too much to go through this."

The lump in his throat made it impossible to speak so he lifted his head to look into her eyes.

And saw pure heartbreak in the split second before she turned.

"Don't," he croaked, surging forward. She was already walking out, though, and he stopped, frozen in place, unable to believe she was truly leaving. That she could walk out on him – on them. Then she was gone, and he could hear her footsteps in the hall. By the time his body caught up with his brain and he made it to the doorway, she was gone.

Gone.

All the air left him in a rush and he gripped the doorframe for support. Longing to run after her, he stood there until he knew it was too late. It wasn't that he didn't want to go after her, to catch her, to make her try to understand why he was the way he was. He just…couldn't. Because he knew she wouldn't be able to understand. Her fears about their relationship were so different from his.

And he'd just made her feel that her fears had been reality.

He shoved away from the door and closed it gently, hand moving automatically to turn the lock and fasten the safety chain. Turning, he was greeted by the sight of the tiny cactus she'd brought him the first time she had come to the apartment. He remembered vividly her helping him find the perfect spot to place it, and his gaze naturally moved to the shelf by the TV, where her handwritten list of cactus instructions still lay. Even though she hadn't been there that often he was hit by reminders of her with each step he took.

The little table he'd set the whiskey on. One she'd had in her spare bedroom and didn't want. The blanket on the couch, identical to the one she'd tucked over him when they'd napped on her couch after her injury. Snatching up the bottle, he lifted it to his lips, gaze dropping to his clothes on the floor.

"Damn it," he breathed. She'd bought him that tank. He took a sip of whiskey from the bottle, barely noticing the burn as he swallowed it down and moved to sit on the couch.

The couch that smelled of her. Where they had just – had it only been an hour ago? – made love.

If he'd only known… Sucking in a breath, he raised the bottle for another swig, eyes burning as regret flooded him. It overpowered the ache for only a moment then was gone.

The ache remained. Stewed and festered and grew despite the whiskey he tried to drown it with. It was still there when he stumbled into the bathroom to splash water over his face, and followed him to the bedroom. His hand swept over the dresser top, fingers fumbling before catching the cap. He clutched it while sitting on the edge of the bed.

And for the first time in months, couldn't remember the soothing sights and sounds of the day they met.

#adam page fanfiction #aew fanfiction #my fics #multipart:BITN #another short chapter #ahahahhaahaha I'm going into hiding now #remember this whole fic is Ash's fault?

[champhangman]

Bleed Into the Night

Title: Bleed Into the Night Part: Six / ? Characters: Hangman Adam Page x OFC Summary: She wasn’t looking. Neither was he. For a brief flash, they found each other. Word Count: 8,701 Warnings: Explicit sexual descriptions, blood (not from the sex), fighting (not in the sex) Previous: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five |  A/N: :)  

Tagging:  @adampage​ / @cowboyshit​ / @baylynch/ @lilmisswhiskeygypsy /  @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis​ / @kalliravenne​ / @sadlittlecountess​ / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx​ / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ / @allizoneme​ / @heelsamizayn​ / @what-does-mine-say​ / @waywardwrestlewritingwaif / @drewshoneybadger  / @mysteryoflovve / @knnyomega / @rampagewriting (I HOPE I got everyone)

Six

Serena had stunned him with her question, but Adam recovered in what he thought was record time. He was glad he hadn't been eating or drinking when she'd said the words, or he'd have been choking. Trying his best to ignore the way his cock had hardened at her suggestion, he sucked in a breath. "You mean that?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." She looked away, and he hated the way her lips turned downward. "If you don't want—"

He grabbed her arm and hauled her to him, cutting off the rest of her statement. Arm locking around her waist once she was close enough, he brought his other hand to her chin and gently turned her head so he could look into her eyes. "Oh, I want," he whispered. "I've wanted for weeks, baby."

"Really?"

"Ever since the first time you called me a good boy," he admitted.

Her smile was brighter than the sunshine filtering through the rippling branches of the tree. "That turns you on, huh?"

"One of 'em."

"What else turns you on?"

Her smile. Her lips. Her fingers dancing on his thighs. Her thighs. The way she said his name. "You."

"Adam," she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Shut up, it's true," he murmured.

"Adam," she said again, her hands slipping up to his shoulders.

"Serena."

"Kiss me?"

He almost crashed against her mouth as he'd been longing to do for weeks. But he remembered that he wanted to do it right. She deserved the best kiss he had to offer. He released her chin and lightly cupped her cheek then slowly brought his lips to hers. He intended it to be gentle, to draw out every movement, but touching her lips started a fire in his veins.

Her lips were delicious. He'd known they would be. Had fantasized how they would taste thousands of times. He kissed her as though he were drowning, and she was oxygen. It made him drunk, drunker than any amount of alcohol ever could. His hands shook as he held her. He was glad they weren’t standing, because he knew his legs wouldn't have been able to keep him upright. His head was reeling. His pulse was racing. His body burned with longing and need and during the eternity he spent kissing her she held onto him. Like she was drowning, too.

He wanted to taste her everywhere. Needed to find out for sure that every inch of her was as delicious as her lips. Shifting, he moaned when her fingers slid into his hair. He focused on memorizing the flavor of the cookies on her tongue. Felt his hair loosen. Felt her tug at it and whined, guiding her down.

"Was gonna take this slow," he mumbled between kisses, drawing them out so he could attempt to catch his breath. He trailed his lips down the side of her neck, enjoying the little gasps she made.

"This is slow," she pointed out in a whisper. Her hands were still in his hair, fingers flexing, and it occurred to him that he loved it. When, usually, he hated for people to mess with his hair. Her fingers sank deeper into the curls until he could feel her nails lightly digging into his scalp and he moaned against her throat. Felt her tremble beneath him.

Lifting his head, he propped one hand on the blanket next to her shoulder. Her lips were swollen. Her amber eyes had darkened and glittered with flecks of sunlight. With each gasp of breath he could feel her chest push against his. Searching her eyes for any hint of hesitation, he sighed with relief when he found none and dipped his head for another kiss.

She was heavenly beneath him. Soft, plush, warm. The thighs he'd dreamed about late at night wrapped around him and he growled, nipping at her lips, then dragged his hands to the hem of her tank top. She giggled into his mouth when his fingers trailed up her sides, and he sighed with regret as she was forced to pull her hands from his hair so he could pull the top over her head. Leaning back slightly, he snatched his shirt off as well, sucking in a breath as the movement caused his hips to nestle deeper between her thighs.

He could feel the heat of her, and his hips gave an instinctive roll. Her little moan caused his cock to jerk. Her fingers brushed down his chest, swept over his abdomen. He gulped for air when she lightly dug her nails into the soft layer of fat over his abdomen and met her eyes again.

"I like this," she said, biting her lip. "You're such a gorgeous man, I like that you're not too perfect, y'know? And I know you get a little insecure about it…"

She did? How?

"But I love it."

The words were pure exhilaration rippling throughout him. "You do, huh?"

"I really do," she murmured, flattening her palms over his abdomen. "Makes you soft and cuddly. Especially this week when you've held me every night."

"You know what, Dimples?" he asked, leaning down for yet another kiss.

"Yeah, Cowboy?" she whispered.

"I like soft and cuddly, too."

"I got plenty of that," she murmured. But there was no self-deprecation. Just…

Happiness, he decided, sinking into her as their lips and tongues melded again. She was happy. And even though there was a tiny voice in the back of his mind saying it wasn't because of him, he liked to think it was. Not all of it. But maybe a little. Breaking the kiss on a gasp, he resolved to do everything he could to keep making her happy.

"Adam…"

"I wanna taste you," he said by way of explanation, inching his way down to her chest. Her breasts were still confined in her bra. Brushing kisses over the tops until she was gasping, he hooked his fingers in the soft purple lace and dragged it down, lips closing around her nipple. Her whines and moans were music to his ears as he suckled and licked and nibbled, fingers pinching and rolling and pulling the other nipple. He made sure to switch, to give both delicious parts of her body the same amount of attention.

God, but he didn't want to move from between her thighs. Didn't want to pull away from the heat pressed tight against his cock. He rolled his hips, pushing tighter, and would have sworn he could feel her growing damp. Her fingers were in his hair again, tugging, but ignored the pull and leaned back, hands reaching almost frantically to remove her shorts. She gave a little squeal of surprise and he froze, fearing he'd gone too far.

"Okay?" he asked, hands splayed at her hips.

"We're outside," she hissed.

Adam blinked and slowly looked around. The sweeping branches of the willow concealed them. He could just see the rest of the lawn through the leaves. He knew that on either side of the lawn was a line of towering trees that blocked out any possible nosy neighbors. Looking down at her, he drew in a deep breath. "You wanna go inside? Can't nobody see us."

She licked her lips and he was briefly distracted, wondering how her tongue would feel on his body. Then she spoke and he had to hurry to catch up to what she was saying. "…Tony doesn't have cameras in the trees?"

His brain, foggy with lust, spun to comprehend the full question, then spun harder to remember what Tony had told him about security. The alarms, the security lights. And… "No. Just a camera on each door of the house and the one at the end of the driveway."

Serena swallowed. He watched her throat work, this time imagining it work to swallow him. "Okay."

He eased his grip on her hips and began tugging at her shorts. His eyes didn't know what to look at. Her eyes, which were even darker with passion. Her lips, swollen and damp. Her breasts, swelling with each breath. Her nipples, tight little peaks. She reached down and there was a delicious tangle as she wriggled to help him rid her of the shorts. Before he could even get a glimpse between her thighs, though, she was tugging at his shorts and he enjoyed that tangle, too, hands clapping over her thighs when she jerked his boxer briefs down and cupped her hand around his cock.

"I ain't finished tasting you," he protested, even as he shivered and moaned at her touch.

"What?" she asked, blinking up at him in surprise.

He leaned down, hissing as his dick slid between her thighs. Her pussy was wet. He shifted his hips, moaning into her mouth as her hand guided his cock to rest at her slit. "You think we're gonna go this far without me eating your pussy?" he asked, forcing his hips back.

"I figured so, since no one else has ever done it," she said.

Adam froze. Lifted his head slightly so he could look into her eyes. "What?"

"No one's ever gone down on me," she murmured, cheeks darkening.

"Are you fucking – Are you kidding me?"

"Yeah, like I'd lie about that," she muttered. She gave her head a shake. "It's not a big deal, Adam—"

"The fuck it ain't. You're telling me you're…" He paused. "How old are you?"

She snorted on a laugh. "Twenty-four."

"You're twenty-four years old and never got eaten?" A thought occurred to him and he cleared his throat. Somehow managed to keep his tone soft for his next question. "Are you a virgin?"

"No. I've done a lot of things, but…" She shrugged. "Never had a man that wanted to."

"You've got one now," he promised, dipping to give her a quick kiss.

"You don't have to—"

"Yes I do."

"No, really, you don't. I know most men hate—"

"Please don't tell me about other men you've been with that refused to go down on you," he groaned. He didn't like thinking of her being intimate with others. Hated the thought that she'd done a lot of things – he made a mental note to ask her about those things later – but no man had seen fit to give her ultimate pleasure.

"Sorry," she said faintly. Then she huffed. "You're not gonna tell me about all the women you've been with that you've gone down on, are you?"

"No." He rained kisses down her chest. Made sure to press tender kisses to her stomach, to the softness he knew was one of her bigger insecurities. And over her hip. He licked his lips as the scent of her arousal filled his senses. "They don't matter, okay? Just us."

"Just us," she echoed, and he heard the smile in her voice. Her hands slipped down, covering his and giving a quick squeeze.

***

Serena dragged in a shaky breath and forced her body to relax while his hands guided her thighs apart. It was ridiculous that she was so nervous about him going down on her. Just because he was the first man to ever do it didn't mean she had to be all anxious and jittery. She wasn't a virgin, for crying out loud. And yet, beneath his gentle but firm fingers, she felt like one. It was as though no other man had mattered.

Maybe they hadn't, she thought, shivering when his breath fanned across her inner thighs. Then it was between them, coursing over her.

"Fuck," she gasped as a finger glided along her slit. His hand slid to her thigh and she bit her lip in anticipation, another gasp sucking from her lungs at the first touch of his tongue.

He wasn't hesitant. His tongue moved in broad, smooth strokes. She felt her pussy clench, heard a soft moan from him. She'd been grasping the blanket but let it go, needing to feel him, to touch him, and sank her fingers into his unruly curls. He pushed her thighs further apart, his tongue still flat against her slit. Above her gasping she could hear him slurping and moaned, head falling back, as the tip of his tongue began to probe.

She lost track of time while he seemed focused on consuming her. His tongue worked steadily, alternately working in steady licks and rapid flicks. It circled her clit then dipped down, slipping inside her, sucking noisily. Each time her pussy flooded his tongue was there to catch it and he was moaning appreciatively, as though she were some decadent dessert meant to be savored. She felt overheated, felt beads of perspiration on her skin, felt the tightening heat in the pit of her belly that she recognized.

"Adam," she whined, tightening her hold on his hair.

His tongue glided upward, circling her clit before fluttering over it. When her thighs began to squeeze he held them down, fingers digging into her flesh, and she released a soft cry as the heat spiraled tighter. He gave her clit a hard suck, his deep moan sending shockwaves through her, and when she began to writhe he dipped to press his tongue at her entrance. She wasn't sure what was louder, her whines and moans or the sounds of him slurping down every drop. When his tongue plunged inside and curled, seeking, she arched, shrieking. Pleasure ripped through her, stunning her into silence with its intensity.

She pushed at his head, sobbing, whimpering with relief when his mouth released her. Panting, trembling, she could only hold onto his hair, whining with each delicate lick he gave her pussy. And when his lips pressed to her hip she released a shuddering breath.

"Oh my god," she gasped, pulling her shaking fingers free of his hair. Bringing her hands up to her face, she was surprised to feel the wet of tears and pressed her palms over her eyes, another ripple of delight rolling through her as Adam guided her legs from over his shoulders.

"You're okay," he whispered, lying over her. He gently pulled her hands from her face. Guided her arms around him. "Serena, baby, look at me."

She did, breath stuttering at the intensity in his blue-green eyes. His neat beard glistened slightly in the light and she sucked in a breath. "Adam…"

"Shh," he soothed, hands softly cupping her cheeks. "Breathe, Dimples."

"I'm trying," she promised with a shaky laugh. She felt too weak to hold onto him but curled her fingers into his back. "That was… Jesus, Adam…"

"I know," he murmured. He stayed over her, not shying away when she tipped her head for a kiss while faint tremors still rippled through her body.

She enjoyed the taste of herself mingled with the taste of him and sighed, languid, pressing her face into he crook of his neck. Listened to his soft, reassuring words. Heard the whisper of the breeze through the branches around them. Enjoyed the weight and feel of him over her while her body calmed.

He shifted so he lay next to her, propping up on one elbow so he could look down at her. "You need anything?"

She shook her head. "Just give me a few minutes, okay?"

He chuckled. "Take all the time you need, baby."

Slowly, she rolled onto her side so she faced him, sighing as hand gently massaged her shoulder and arm. He stroked her side. Her hip. Her thigh. He guided her close to him, palm and fingers kneading her back. His touch was soothing, relaxing. Loving. The thought made her smile. She wasn't quite sure if it was just her post-orgasm glow or not, but she had the sudden inkling that she was starting to fall for him.

Sex with him would mean something. And she wasn't sure she was ready for that. She didn't know if she could handle that something just yet. She didn't know for sure that it would mean the same thing to him. And if it didn't, she wasn't sure she could handle that it meant something to her and not to him. Because she would know as soon as they finished if he felt the same something she did or not.

"You having second thoughts?" he asked softly, and she wondered when he'd gotten so good at reading her.

"No…"

"You're a shitty liar, Dimples."

"I just—" She scowled. "I'm not lying."

"You just what?" he murmured.

"I don't want to come across as some selfish bitch. Like, hey, I came, tough luck for you, you know?" Frowning, she shivered when his fingertips trailed from her shoulder to her elbow. "But this isn't really baby steps, is it?"

"It's okay," he said, smiling faintly. "I can get myself off."

She'd like to see that. She wanted to see how he touched himself. Wanted to know if he was slow or gentle or hard or fast. Then, suddenly, she didn't. She wanted to do it for him. "I'll get you off, Cowboy."

"Dimples—"

"You ate my pussy like a starving man, the least I can do is give you a hand in return." She sat up, licking her lips. "Or my mouth, if you prefer."

"Jesus," he muttered, closing his eyes briefly. "I ain't gonna complain either way."

"Lay back," she said, gathering her hair into a ponytail. Her scalp was damp with sweat. Her whole body was. Watching him stretch out on the blanket, she couldn't help the way her lips curved into a smile. "Good boy."

"Why do I feel like you're gonna say that every time you want me to do something?" he asked, pulling his hair back with a groan.

"Wouldn't I say it after you do something I want you to?" she countered, letting her eyes sweep along his body. It wasn't fair, she thought, that he was beautiful and had a great physique. It wasn't fair that his arms and thighs were thick and his hair shone and his eyes glittered. It wasn't fair that, even after weeks of seeing him, she wasn't accustomed to his good looks. And she wondered if the Greek and Roman gods and goddesses hadn't been ethereal figures, but instead had been men and women too stunning for normal looking people to believe. If that were so, she would understand completely, because even before he'd given her an orgasm she'd had difficulty believing he was as magnificent as he was.

"Dimples?"

"Yeah?" she sighed, watching the mottled sunlight dance across his chest.

"Thought I lost you there for a minute."

"No, no, I'm still here," she promised. "Just thinking how beautiful you are."

He grinned. Shook his head. "Stop stroking my ego, ma'am."

"And start stroking something else?" she teased, fastening the band to hold her ponytail and moving to kneel between his thighs.

"I'm not that much of an asshole," he sighed.

"No," she agreed, trailing her fingers along hair-roughened flesh. She felt his muscles tense beneath her touch and did it again, watching her fingers glide over the fine curls that scattered his thighs. Moving her gaze up to his face, she let them dance over the soft cotton of his boxer briefs then hooked them in the waistband and tugged. "You're a good boy, aren't you?"

"Trying real hard to be," he said, throat working jerkily.

Keeping her fingers curled in the waistband, she dragged her eyes downward, admiring the way his cock lay against his abdomen. She lowered her head to lick the wet from the tip. Heard the air hiss between his teeth and did it again. She wanted to be languid, to take her time exploring and learning how he liked to be touched but felt such a thrill when he moaned that she took the tip into her mouth. Enjoying the tang of him on her tongue, she pulled her hands from the bunched cotton and began stroking him gently.

"Fuck," he moaned.

His hand covered one of hers and squeezed, and she heard his shaky breath when she adjusted her grip. When she began stroking him harder his hand slid to her cheek, and as his fingers slid into her hair, she closed her eyes. She opened them immediately, though, because she wanted to look up the length of his body and see what she could of his face. Sucking more of him into her mouth, she watched his teeth clamp his bottom lip and felt a surge of command when his head tipped back.

He moaned. Gasped. Hissed. His hand stayed gentle in her hair but she could feel his fingers trembling against her scalp. That surprised her, because she had expected him to pull on her head, and she was warmed at the thought that he trusted her to please him without guidance.

She lifted off with a soft gasp when he released a long, deep, guttural moan. Overhead she heard the chatter and fluttering wings of startled birds.

"Don't stop," he panted, raising his head. "Please—"

"I've got you," she promised, guiding the tip of his cock into her mouth again. Focusing on it with her tongue, she stroked harder and felt him swell. His fingers scrabbled deeper into her hair, twisting almost painfully, and she watched in awe at his eyes snapping shut. His mouth stretched so tight it looked like a pained grimace, upper lip pressed white against his teeth, and she felt euphoric when he came. A series of garbled shouts filled the air around them. His hips lifted and his stomach sucked in, his face disappearing as he filled her mouth.

She swallowed, easing her strokes and the flickers of her tongue while he collapsed back. Pinpricks of pain scattered her scalp when his hand dropped, dragging several strands of her hair with it, but she focused on catching every drop and then on licking him clean, his high-pitched gasps ringing in her ears as she slowly sat up.

"Fuck," he panted, arm flopping across face.

Serena allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction and reached for the glass of tea next to the picnic basket. After taking a gulp, she wiped her chin with her palm and tentatively laid next to him. Unsure if he wanted to be touched anymore, or even if he wanted her at his side, she hesitated, delightfully surprised when he caught her and dragged her close. She rested her head on his damp chest, breathed in the scents of sweat and sex that mingled with his cologne and shampoo. Curling close, she kept her touches light, occasionally pressing kisses over his pounding heartbeat.

After several long moments he gently tugged until she scooted up, his lips meeting hers in a tender kiss. He didn't speak, so neither did she, content to lie with him.

And knew that it had all meant something to him, too.

***

Head tipped back, Serena held her breath out of habit as the makeup artist applied her eyeliner. She knew her makeup was almost done and it only increased her anxious energy, but she kept herself as still as possible so it wouldn't have to be redone. The fact that her phone kept chirping with incoming messages didn't help. She didn't know for sure, but she had an inkling they were from Adam. He tended to text in strings as opposed to sending long paragraphs. Not that she minded, because it was like getting his thoughts as they came to him, and she loved reading or hearing his thoughts.

She loved…

"All done, sugar."

"Thanks so much," Serena gushed, sitting upright and looking to her reflection. Admiring the shade of eyeshadow and how it perfectly matched her new gear, she reached for her phone and snapped a quick selfie before hopping out of the chair. She still had to change. The show was about to start, and there were still a million things to do before she made her entrance.

For the main event.

She pinched herself again. Nope, still not a dream.

"Hey, Mermaid, I found this loser hanging around…"

She whirled at the sound of Cole's voice. Felt a rush of giddiness at the sight of Adam. It had been over two weeks since they'd been together in the same room, and her heart tripped over itself a thousand times in the seconds it took her to meet him in the hallway, a silly giggle rising when she saw he was grinning. "You came," she breathed in surprise, stepping into his arms for a brief hug. "You're really here."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he murmured. His arms squeezed, and she felt his cheek against her hair. "I know you ain't got long, I just wanted to see you before I went to get in my seat."

"I've got a few minutes," she promised, pulling back and reaching for his hand. Two weeks of FaceTime and texting and phone calls hadn't been enough. She had missed the man. Missed his laugh in her ear and his warmth around her and his arms holding her. And, even if she'd only had one full day of them before he'd had to leave, she'd missed his kisses, too. Guiding him to a quiet nook, she leaned against the wall and stared at him. "Hey."

"Hey," he said with a grin. "You're not dressed yet?"

"I'm going to do that in a minute." He was really there. She wanted to know how he'd managed to make it happen, but at the moment she was content just to look at him. To just breathe in his scent and be calmed by the knowledge he was there.

"You okay?"

Serena nodded, even as she sucked in a shaky breath. Her hands twisted and she felt her knuckles crack. "Just a little nervous," she finally whispered. She was still awed that the match was going to happen. Had pinched herself when she had been taken aside earlier and told the outcome, which hadn't been decided until fifteen minutes before she'd gone to get her makeup. And now time was speeding by and she had to get ready to perform. Added to that was the fact that Adam was truly there, prepared to root for her like the good boyfriend he was turning out to be.

Even though she still worried. He hadn't brought up sex again after that afternoon at the lake. Hadn't even attempted anything beyond kisses that night, when she had thought in the back of her mind that if he'd asked she would have said yes. But she'd held back, fretting that she wasn't pretty or skinny enough for him to truly want her. Because no matter what he said, no matter the words that had brought tears to her eyes, she had an inkling he would have no trouble finding someone better than her to lie under him.

But if he felt that way, would he still reach for her hand when they were near each other? Would he still put his arm around her shoulders anytime she stood next to him? Would his lips find her forehead for those sweet kisses? Would he smile when he caught her looking at him? Would he hug her so fully and gently? If he didn't think she was even almost good enough, would his pinkie hook around hers every time their hands bumped?

Oh, how she needed a hug now, she thought, twisting her fingers until her knuckles cracked again. She could hear his voice but the words didn't register and she suddenly reached out, grasping his arm.

"Can I have a hug?" she blurted. She stomped right into the middle of whatever statement he'd been making but at the moment she didn't care. She just needed his arms around her. To feel his warmth and strength and that sense of comfort. That comfort she was just starting to admit to herself she'd never found in anyone else's arms.

She watched the flash of confusion ripple across his face. His lips ticked up into that warm smile she was growing to love, and his eyes softened with understanding.

"C'mere," he murmured, spreading his arms.

She stepped into them gratefully, turning her head so her makeup wouldn't smear on his shirt. Her shirt, she realized suddenly, recognizing the outline of her face with the swoop of neon pink hair on the front of the black shirt. It almost made her want to cry.

Serena sighed, wrapping her arms around his middle and holding tight. Breathing in his scent, she squeezed her eyes shut when his arms tightened. She felt his chin rest on the top of her head, felt his deep sigh that matched hers. Her fingers curled against his back and she gave the shirt a slight tug. Just enough to free it from his jeans. Just enough to slip her hands beneath so she could feel the heat of his skin. Selfish, she knew, but she'd grown addicted to that warmth in those days he stayed in her apartment. She would never admit it to him, but she hadn't washed the case on the pillow he'd used until his scent had dissipated. Had held it close each night to get the same comfort holding him had brought.

She flattened her hands on his back and held on, inhaling deeply and releasing it slowly. Feeling the stress and worry ebb with her breath. His hands moved in slow circles, caressing her as he brought her even closer.

She could have stayed there all night in his arms. Would have been content to hold and be held. To hear his heartbeat directly beneath her ear. To feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. To soak up the comfort and warmth he was so freely offering.

"Okay?" he whispered.

She nodded, squeezing her eyes tighter at the feel of his lips against the top of her hair. "Sorry," she said, slowly pulling her hands from beneath his shirt and attempting to tuck it back into place. Lifting her head, she opened her eyes, breath leaving in a shaky gasp when his hand raised and his fingers swept over her cheek. "Sorry."

"I'm ain't gonna complain about a hug from you, Dimples."

Her lips pulled into a smile. She knew he spotted her dimple when his eyes lit up, which only made her smile harder. "You always know just what to say, Cowboy."

"Only with you," he murmured. His fingers grazed her cheek again. "Only with you."

She hoped that were true. God, she really hoped he meant that. She heard someone approaching and knew she had to hustle to get ready for her match. "I better go. I still have to change."

"I'm still pissed you won't let me see it before you go out," he muttered. He leaned to kiss her forehead, lips lingering for a few seconds. "But I understand. I better get out there so I can see every detail."

She opened her mouth to say she would look for him. But would that be too much? She didn't care. "I'll look for you."

"I know you will, Dimples." He cupped her cheek, forehead resting against hers. "Knock 'em dead, baby."

"You fucking know it." Relaxed now, and happy, and excited and joyful and, she realized as her heart did a series of somersaults, a little bit in love.

***

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"What?"

"How the fuck is this inconspicuous?" Adam gestured at the ringside seats. The only thing between them and the ring was a thin barricade and about seven feet. If he sneezed, people in the ring would probably feel the air ripple. Remembering that he was standing in front of someone, he muttered an apology, faintly recognizing the woman as Finn's wife, moving out of her way.

"Sorry, man, but I got my orders." Cole shrugged and slid into a seat, then patted the empty one next to him.

"Your boss don't want me sitting here where everyone can see," Adam grumbled, sitting down and situating himself. He'd been perfectly content in the seat he'd had earlier in the show. Where he could watch without being obvious. But when one of the security staff had tapped him on the shoulder and told him Cole wanted him to sit closer during Serena's match, he'd complied. Mainly to shut his friend up, but also because he did want to see Serena in action up close. "They're gonna point a camera at you, aren't they?"

"Of course." Cole smoothed his shirt. "Everyone knows I helped train her when she started at the PC. Everyone knows I'm one of her closest friends in the company. That I'm like her brother. That—"

"Stop before I puke," Adam sighed. It would be alright, he told himself. Besides, he was wearing regular clothes. Serena's new shirt and jeans.  His hair was pulled up. He even had his glasses on. Feeling an ache beginning in his back, he groaned. He'd slouched down. He pushed himself up in the chair, leaning close to his friend while the video package continued to play. "Do you know if she's gonna win?"

"Yeah."

Adam blinked. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"She's—"

"Hunter wouldn't tell me. Said I'd have to wait and see."

"She wouldn't tell you?" Adam grunted in frustration. "Then how can you know she's gonna win?"

"Because it's time for her to win." Cole took out his phone. "Besides, she's like my little sister. I have to believe she's gonna win."

The package ended and Adam blinked as the lights came up. The crew members that had been switching out the canvas in the ring were gone, and he looked on while a referee came out, then as the announcer approached the ring.

"Cowboy shit!"

Adam couldn't help but grin as the chant rose in volume. But he made a slicing motion across his throat, shaking his head, in hopes they would stop. Next to him Cole laughed.

"Hunter's pissed," he announced with glee, leaning to show Adam his phone.

Adam read the words on the screen and laughed. "They showed me on camera?"

"Apparently. Or at least enough for people to know who you are."

Adam felt a twinge of guilt. This was Serena's big match. Granted, all her matches were her big match. She treated a warm-up match before the show with the same reverence and dedication as she would a main event. But this was the big match. Her first pay-per-view main event. And it was for the title. He didn't like the feeling that his being spotted in the crowd may have taken some of the spotlight from her. Where it firmly belonged.

"He wants you to move," Cole said as the chants finally began to die down.

"Fuck him," Adam snorted. "I'm here to watch my girl kick ass. Tell him he can suck my left nut."

Cole opened his mouth to respond, then bent to tap on his phone.

"You motherfucker," Adam growled, leaning to make sure his friend wasn't telling the man exactly what he'd said. Seeing that Cole had merely sent a message saying the match was starting and he had to pay attention, he relaxed and turned his attention to the stage just as the lights went down.

She'd told him little about the plans for her entrance. Only that it was going to be amazing. Ripples of light danced across the crowd before shifting and focusing their beams on the entrance ramp. Through his peripheral vision he could see pinpoints of light from phones, like a blanket of stars across a midnight sky. Choral chanting began softly and Adam leaned forward in his seat, watching as figures moved to line either side of the ramp. He recognized the melody of the chanting as her entrance theme and was almost startled out of his seat when the chanting gave way to a guitar solo.

The guitarist was at the head of the ramp, playing out the main portion of her theme, smoke billowing around until they were concealed. The guitar stopped and the chanting began again, and he felt the ripple of excitement in the crowd as the lights changed from white to purple. Her theme kicked in fully, the lights swung over the audience, and when they returned to the stage there she was, stepping through the smoke, wearing a robe just like the figures along the ramp.

She strode down the ramp in time to the music, stopping halfway as the robed figures circled her. When they moved away the plain robe was gone and Adam felt his breath hitch when he saw the pink leather jacket over her new gear. No wonder she'd told him it was going to be a surprise. If he'd seen her wearing it backstage he wouldn't have been able to speak. Even now he could feel his throat going dry. She'd finally ditched the long pants and concealing top. Her thighs were on display, as were the rest of her delicious curves, the bright pink contrasting so perfectly with her sun-kissed skin and matching her hair.

"Damn," he said, eyes on her as she circled the ring. She stopped almost in front of he and Cole, her eyes focusing on him. One corner of her mouth tilted into a slight smile, and he returned her wink before she turned to go up the steps. "…Damn."

He barely noticed the champion's entrance. All he could focus on was Serena as she spoke to the referee and lightly bounced in place. Blinking when the dizzying lights ceased and the lights above the ring became bright, he felt his knee begin to bounce with excitement as the announcer introduced each competitor.

She was definitely over with the crowd. Both of them were, the thunderous cheers for each almost the same volume and just as enthusiastic. He reached for his phone while she shrugged off the jacket, and had his breath snatched away yet again. He noticed the time. Saw that it was over thirty minutes left for the match. Remembered her saying it was going to be fucking amazing. He could see the excitement in her eyes as the bell was struck to begin the match and knew that his face showed the same excitement.

It was beyond fucking amazing.

There was a slow start, each woman seeming to feel the other out as they circled the ring. Until Serena stopped and motioned for Shayna to come at her. She did, slowly, extending one hand as a show of good sportsmanship. Serena looked to the hand with curiosity, then revulsion, one foot flying up to kick it away.

Strikes. Kicks. The action was fast-paced, both women moving fluidly and with speed, until they locked up and Serena threw Shayna with a Northern Lights. Adam joined in the applause and cheering. He cheered for them both, appreciating the talent and charisma, and letting himself just be a fan of good wrestling.

His breath hitched when Serena was sent over the top rope to the floor and he rose with everyone else, not realizing then that he wouldn't be sitting down for the rest of the match. He had always enjoyed Serena's selling, how she wasn't overdramatic about it, and even made him think she was legitimately hurting from a well-executed move. And he loved that both women were able to tell the story of their friendship and rivalry, emotion closing up his throat when Serena blocked a move and countered with the same move then retreated to the corner and covered her face with her hands.

His heart stopped when she climbed onto the top turnbuckle. And when she threw herself into a moonsault his heart soared through the air with her, landing with a juddering crash that rattled in his chest.

And when she rolled out of the ring after breaking out of a submission hold, he sensed that she wasn't going to win. Half the crowd was joining in the count of the referee, the other half was clapping rhythmically until she dragged herself up and crawled onto the apron. She slid beneath the rope just at the count of nine.

Maybe she was going to win after all? He honestly didn't care one way or the other.

The rest passed in a blur that stopped when an elbow to the face left her with a bleeding lip. It sped up again, and Adam knew he would have to watch it over again later because one moment she was knelt in the corner, the ref leaning over her, blood staining her chin and neck. And the next, she was charging forward, then going for the pin.

One. Two. Three.

The arena erupted. Adam couldn't even hear the bell ringing, or her music kicking on. Only the roar of the crowd.

He loved her.

Staring as she knelt in the center of the ring, he could feel the emotion radiating from her. Serena the person held her head in her hands because she had achieved a dream. Had, somehow, made those in charge believe in her enough to give her the gold, and couldn't believe it was happening. Was so overcome that she had to hide her face so the world couldn't see her tears. Serena the character was overwhelmed because she had finally done it, had finally proven the naysayers wrong. Had finally shown them all that she was the badass she said she was.

Adam wasn't sure what was louder. The pulse and blood rushing in his ears or the crowd, overcome and ecstatic from a stellar match. He heard his own voice cheering for her. And when she finally accepted the belt from the referee, he felt the heat of tears in his eyes.

He loved her.

The understanding hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him winded and able to only stare as she celebrated her victory. He felt Cole's hand on his shoulder, heard his friend shouting with happiness, but couldn't articulate a reply. Could only watch her while confetti rained down and she clutched the belt to her chest.

Then, suddenly, she was rolling out of the ring. Moving closer. Towards Cole.

Towards him.

Bits of confetti clung to her cheeks, streaked with her tears. There was a glow in her eyes that he wished he could have put in them. Without thinking, he cupped her face in his hands and gently brought her close. Pressed his forehead to hers, her soft gasp of his name drowning out the fans around them.

"I love you," he whispered before catching her lips in a tender kiss.

***

He'd wanted to savor the liquor and enjoy the extended night with their friends. He'd wanted to spend hours in the bar celebrating her win before taking her back to the hotel where they could celebrate in private. But, seeing the way her eyes glittered after each kiss, he found himself downing the whiskey in one gulp. It burned and he hissed, turning to signal to the bartender that he wanted another. They'd have another drink then he'd guide her to the exit.

He felt buoyant, as though he had been the one that had won the match. As though he were a new champion. He was giddy, he was grinning, and each time he stole a kiss he felt his heart soar. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so happy, so not anxious about what was to come.

Fresh drink in hand, he slipped his arm around her and pulled her to his side while walking her away from the bar. Hailed by Keith and Finn, he guided her in that direction, making sure she took a seat at their small table before dragging a chair over for himself. He could tell the conversation would become lengthy and kept a hand on her thigh, occasionally squeezing so she would know she was still at the forefront of his mind.

Then, suddenly, he felt her stiffen. It was brief, but he knew it had happened. He knew she wasn't bothered by talk of being busted open during a match, otherwise she wouldn't be talking about her own recent injury, or pulling out her bottom lip to show the little gash she'd just gotten a couple of hours before.

Except she wasn't talking anymore. Her voice had faded and so had she. He could feel her shrinking back in the chair. Felt her trying to make herself invisible. Turning to ask her what was wrong, he felt the words lodge in his throat as his gaze landed on a figure walking towards the table. The man was vaguely familiar. Adam couldn't recall his name but knew their paths had crossed at some point.

"What's up?" he greeted, stopping at the table. His icy eyes landed on Serena.

Serena, who was looking at her hands, tightly clasped in her lap.

The man sneered and began to walk away before Finn or Keith or Adam could reply to his greeting.

And Adam knew who he was. He still couldn't remember his name, but he knew he'd just come face to face with the bastard that had crushed Serena's soul.

Without thinking, he pushed his drink onto the table and scraped his chair back. Serena's head lifted and he caught a glimpse of pain in her eyes. But he didn't hear whatever words came from her parted lips. Instead, he focused on the retreating back.

***

"They got beef?" Keith asked, frowning as Adam headed away from the table.

"I don't think so," Finn said. He was frowning as well.

Serena felt both men look at her. As well as Mia and Vero, who'd just returned from the restroom. Still feeling shaky, she pulled her gaze from Adam's drink, which was still rippling after being set down so quickly, and bit her lip at the sight of Adam approaching Shane. What the fuck was he doing?

She couldn't look away even though she didn't want to see what happened. She had an overwhelming sense of dread, especially when Shane turned and the light caught his sneer. It sent a chill through her, made her remember things she had strived to forget. Things that, until a moment ago, she had forgotten.

You thought I liked you? You? A cruel laugh. I only did you on a dare.

Despite the music she could hear silence. Chatting had stopped. There was an air of anticipation, and she jumped slightly when she heard chairs scraping back. Bit her lip harder and tasted the copper of blood when Keith walked towards Adam and Shane. He blocked her view and she flinched at the sound of a punch landing.

A yelp.

Shrieks.

Yells and clamoring for someone to fuck him up. Flashes from phone cameras went off, giving the scene a dreamlike appearance, and Serena didn't know she was standing until she felt Mia's hand on her arm.

Keith moved and she gasped. Shaking her arm free, she pushed forward, even though she hated to be within ten feet of him. Hated the air of disgust that emanated from him every time he saw her, as though she had ruined his self-esteem. Licking the blood from her lip, she put a hand on Adam's arm, dread growing as her eyes flicked to Shane and she saw his hands over his nose. Saw blood gushing from beneath his fingers.

"Adam?" she whispered, tightening her hold. What had happened? Why had he punched Shane? What had Shane done to him? Or said?

She didn't like the look on Adam's face when he looked at her. Fury and anguish and disgust. Dropping her hand as though it had been burned, she swallowed anxiously. She could still taste blood. And the dread continued to grow.

"We should go," she said, her voice faint to her own ears. Did he even want to go with her?

He blinked. Reached for her as Keith carefully guided them away from Shane, who was beginning to howl about a broken nose. A shaking hand caught hers, pulled, and when her eyes met his she felt the dread slip away.

"Why?" she asked when he kept walking. Past the table they'd been at. Past other tables, ignoring the people that called out to him. "Adam, why?"

He didn't answer. His hand was still shaking, even as it clutched hers tightly. She brought her other hand to his arm, rubbing in what she hoped was a comforting way, and when he steered her out the exit and onto the sidewalk she drew in a breath.

"Adam…" She felt scared. Silly, maybe, because she knew he wouldn't hurt her. But she hated seeing him like this. Hated not being able to get a sense as to what he was feeling or thinking. Hated the fear that clawed at her heart. She wanted to know what Shane had said or done to cause him to react in such a way. But mostly, she just needed him to speak.

He didn't. Not on the short walk to the hotel. Or in the elevator. His hand had stopped shaking but he was still a hulk of silence. And when they entered her room, he let go of her hand and dropped onto the foot of the bed with a bone-weary sigh.

She approached timidly. "Cowboy… Talk to me?"

"I cain't." His voice was wreathed with pain.

"Sure you cain," she murmured without thinking.

He looked at her again, eyes narrowing.

"Sorry. Is it can? Or cay-un?" she asked, needing to lighten the mood. "I don't speak Virginian."

Adam said nothing, just shook his head and exhaled harshly.

"What did he do?"

"I don't know."

"Okay…" She cleared her throat, trying to dissect just why he would slam his fist into a man's face if the man had done nothing.

"But I know he did somethin'."

Serena froze. "What?"

"To you."

"Who – Why – How?" she choked out. She'd told no one. Only Cole, and she knew that he wouldn't have told Adam. He hadn't even told Britt.

"I knew someone had hurt you," he mumbled, kicking at the corner of his suitcase. "Cole wouldn't tell me who, but he said someone had hurt you a while back."

"Okay." But that didn't explain—

"And tonight, when I saw the way he looked at you, and then you…" He sighed. "You tried to disappear. And I knew it was him."

"Oh," she whispered.

"Wasn't it?"

She nodded. Or, tried to. She did manage to bob her chin down once, but that was all.

"That's why."

"But it was months ago—"

"And you're still hurting from it." He frowned. "You still hurt because of him."

"Not him," she said. She drew in a breath and rubbed at her bare arms. Wished she hadn't agreed they go out to a bar. Wished she'd asked him to just come back to the hotel with her so she could lose herself in him. If she'd done that, she wouldn't be feeling so cold and small and stupid. "He just… Drove in that what I think about myself is true."

"It's not," he ground out. "I don't give a fuck what he said or what the fuck he did, it ain't fucking true."

"Adam—"

"And if I have to spend the rest of my goddamn life proving to you that it ain't true, I will."

Startled by that, she stared as he rose to his feet. Drew in a shaky breath. "What?"

"You heard me, Dimples." He stepped forward, and she felt the wall meet her back as his hands framed her face. "I ain't leaving this room until you believe you're the prettiest, most beautiful, most devastatingly fucking gorgeous woman in the world."

She gulped. "I-I… I do have to go to work, y'know…"

"Fine," he groaned, dipping his head and brushing his lips over hers. "I'll just spread it out over time, baby."

"Adam?" she whispered, clutching the front of his shirt.

"Yeah?"

"I'm ready."

"Ready for what?"

"For you."

#adam page fanfiction #hangman adam page fanfiction #aew fanfiction #my fics #multipart:BITN #be nice guys i did the best i could with the match scene #also this was going to be posted this morning but I - a dumb ass - had to rewrite the first scene three fucking times

[champhangman]

Bleed Into the Night

Title: Bleed Into the Night Part: Four / ? Characters: Hangman Adam Page x OFC Summary: She wasn’t looking. Neither was he. For a brief flash, they found each other. Word Count: 12,552 Warnings: Cursing? Masturbation Previous: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | A/N: :)

Tagging:  @adampage / @cowboyshit / @baysexuality / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy /  @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch / @allizoneme / @heelsamizayn / @what-does-mine-say / @waywardwrestlewritingwaif / @drewshoneybadger  / 

Part Four

"Hey Nick?" Adam had waited until they were alone to speak. He hadn't wanted to ask in front of everyone else, in front of all the ones who would begin razzing once they realized what he was asking. He waited until his friend looked up from his phone.

"Hey Adam?" Nick grinned. "What?"

He rubbed his palms over his thighs. "I'm leaving right after my match, okay?"

Nick looked surprised and Adam couldn't blame him. He was one of those that stayed until practically everything was loaded up. He jumped in to dismantle the ring, to load boxes of merch. Sometimes he, Matt, and Nick were the last ones to leave. He loved doing it, because it was one of the ways he could show how thankful he was for all his friends had done for him. Because he believed in the company and knew they believed in him.

"I mean… It's just…" Anxiety was making him sweat. Reaching to run his fingers through his hair, he sighed when his fingers instead smoothed over the bun he'd dragged it into. "Well—"

"Serena's in a show nearby."

Adam had to bite his tongue to keep from asking how Nick knew. Of course he would know that NXT had a show nearby. Unless he'd been talking to Serena? No, she would have mentioned it. He knew she would have, because in the past week he had learned many things about the woman.

Once she got into a conversation, she could talk for hours. About wrestling. Music. Movies. Animals. Food. She had even spent thirty minutes telling him the process she went through to dye her naturally dark brown hair the bright pink it was currently. If she had seen or spoken to someone she thought he knew, she told him, and would then want to know how he knew that person. She told him when she'd talked to Cole, and when she had talked to Britt. She'd even told him about conversations with people she worked with that he'd never met. So, obviously, she would have told him if she'd spoken to Nick.

Amazed at her talkativeness, he had spent many hours listening and agreeing and trying to get a word in whenever she paused for breath. He'd learned they tended to talk over each other. One would interrupt the other because something said had reminded them of something completely different.

Unless they were sleepy. Then it was long but not uncomfortable silences peppered with the occasional comment. The first time it had happened he'd thought she hadn't wanted to talk to him, but when he'd said he would let her go, she had insisted she was keen to talk and had a lot to tell him.

It was just that she was tired and wanted to hear his voice. Which was something that had made him happier than it probably should have. It also comforted him, because sometimes he just wanted to hear her voice, too.

Amazing what their night out with the others had done. They talked several times a day, and just as he thought that his phone dinged with a text from her. He knew it was from her because, not wanting to constantly check to see who was messaging him, he'd finally set a custom alert for her. Just as he'd set a custom ringtone for her, going so far as to create it himself after hearing her sing part of one of his favorite songs.

He couldn't help it. She'd been singing The Chicks, for fuck's sake.

"Adam?"

Blinking, he nudged the memory of Serena singing aside and focused on Nick. "Yeah?"

Nick gave him that speculative gaze for a moment, then shook his head. "Go."

His lips began to lift into a smile. "You sure it's okay?"

"It's fine." Nick chuckled, shaking his head. "You've got it bad."

"Do not," he defended. He couldn't have it bad. Having it bad implied there was an it to have. And he didn't. There would be no it with Serena. That thought made his smile fade, and he picked up his phone to read her text.

You're really coming? To see me? Wow. Promise not to laugh at my flippy shit?

"I just want to see her live," he admitted. "I've only seen her matches online."

From what he'd seen, she had untapped talent. Watching some of her most recent work, he could tell she had potential to be a multi-faceted wrestler. Despite her saying she wasn't keen on doing high-flying, she executed flips and dives with precision. He especially liked her hurricanrana off the top rope. Her promo was good, it just needed a little more finesse that he was sure she would grow into. She'd been right when she said she wasn't cut out to be a babyface. Her heel promo had made him grin, and the way she had twisted words and referenced other women in the industry had been close to sublime. Her character wasn't underhanded or mean, she was mad. Fed up. Tired of everyone overlooking her.

Which he could relate to. Not just on a character level, but a personal one as well.

"You know you don't have to defend your reasons for wanting to see her live, right?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I just… Y'know…" Shrugging, he began a message to Serena.

Really coming. And I won't laugh. My match opens the show so I'll miss the first hour.

"Shit," he muttered.

"Now what?"

"Nothing. I just remembered I need a ticket." And would they even let him in if he missed an hour?

"You forgot to get a ticket?" Nick snorted on a laugh.

"Shut up," Adam groaned, shaking his head when he began to chuckle.

"Told you, you've got it bad."

"Maybe I do," he murmured thoughtfully. That would be bad, if he did. But he didn't, which was good. But if he did, it would be bad. It would be the opposite of what he and Serena hoped to get out of the relationship.

Maybe he shouldn't go. He didn't need to see her live. He could just mute the commentary and imagine that instead of sitting in a hotel room or in his bed at home he was in the arena. He had a decent imagination. He could imagine the excitement of the crowd. He could recreate the buzz of a live show.

But he wanted to go. Wanted to see her in action. Wanted to watch her without commentary distracting him.

He wanted to chase that little thrill he got whenever he was in the same room with her.

He shouldn't go. He was sure to be spotted. Eagle-eyed fans were everywhere. It hadn't even been a month since that time he'd gone to the grocery store and been approached by fans while trying to choose between liquid or capsule Pepto Bismol. And only a few weeks since he'd stopped to fill his truck with gas and was adjusting his crotch when a man and his young daughter popped around the gas pump to say hi. Sure as shit, as soon as he slipped into his seat someone would spy him and then everyone – or at least everyone who knew who he was – would be looking at him.

He didn't want that for Serena. Or for whoever her opponent was. They worked hard for the accolades they received, and he didn't want the attention on him instead of their work.

"Fuck," he muttered.

"Now what?" Nick sighed.

"I can't go."

"Hunter banned you already?"

"No. At least, I don't think so. Would he? It's not like I'm trying to lure her away from them. We're just…dating." He furrowed his brow in thought.

"Stop," Nick said softly. "I was joking."

He knew that. Sighing, he dragged a hand over his face. "No, I just thought that… I don't want to get there and some fans realize who I am and start watching me instead of her. She doesn't deserve that."

"Go incognito," Nick suggested with a shrug. "Wear your glasses and put on a hat. Half the people we work with don't recognize you with your glasses."

He had a point. Adam nodded, made up his mind that he would go, then shot a message to Serena asking if she could make sure he'd be let in the doors.

But he worried for the rest of the afternoon. He didn't know if he should tell her his worries. If she would think he was crazy. Which, he decided while flipping the beer bottle cap between his fingers, he probably was. He looked down at his fingers, trying to come up with a good reason why he hadn't thrown the cap away. It had found its way from his pocket to the top of his dresser in his apartment. From there to another pocket, to his suitcase, to the bowl of change he kept at home, to jeans again, to the nightstand at the hotel, and all over again. He couldn't understand why he couldn't bring himself to throw it away. It was trash.

And yet, every time he pulled it out and rolled it from one finger to the next, he felt his stress ease. When he held it, he was able to think of hearty laughter, water splashing, and a pair of eyes the color of amber that sparkled like the fairy lights overhead.

Maybe it wasn't trash.

Releasing his breath, he flicked the cap into the air and caught it in his palm, closing his fingers around it for a few seconds before setting it on the seat next to him.

He would go. He had told her he would, and he believed in keeping promises.

"Man, it's a wreck in here," Matt announced as he swept into the locker room they were sharing.

Adam glanced around and shrugged. He'd seen locker rooms that looked worse. There was a little trash lying around – empty water bottles, candy wrappers, and someone had left a crumpled Diet Coke can on the floor – but for the most part it was alright. Sure, suitcases were open and clothes were spilling out. Leaning to grab his empty Skittles bag, he crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the trashcan, then stood to get his gear out of his suitcase, nodding to Nick and Kenny when they entered.

Tugging his t-shirt off, he felt a rush of panic when Matt reached to sweep the cap off the sofa. "Hey," he yelped, stumbling forward and snatching it from the man's grasp. "Don't do that."

"It's trash," Matt stated flatly. He looked at Adam as though he were insane.

"No. It's…" Adam clutched it in his hand and drew in a deep breath. "It's not trash. It's mine, okay?"

Matt blinked slowly. But when he opened his mouth to speak, music came out.

Yeah, I could use a Texas man, who's not afraid to take his time. He's gotta have patient hands, 'cause the way to my heart is through my mind.

Shit. He hadn't put his phone on silent. And now three pairs of eyes were looking at him with amusement.

Been way too long since somebody's body kept me up all night… Yeah, that good kinda keepin' me up all night.

"Heart eyes?" Kenny inquired with a knowing smile.

"Yeah," Adam muttered, cheeks heating as he reached for his phone.

"Heart eyes?" Nick lifted his eyebrows.

"Serena," Adam explained, swiping to answer the call. "Hey."

"He's going to see her tonight," Nick told Matt and Kenny.

"He is?" The trashcan slipped from Matt's hand and landed on the floor.

"Leaving right after his match," Nick answered with a grin.

"Hey! I'm on the phone." Adam held up his phone and pointed to it so they'd understand.

"Sorry." Matt's expression was as far from apologetic as possible. "Tell her we said hi!"

"And we'd come see her if we could," Nick added.

"We should go see her in action," Kenny said. "I've seen some of her matches, but you know it's entirely different live."

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Adam groaned, bringing the phone back to his ear. "The guys say hi. And they'd come to see you tonight if they could."

Serena's laughter was all he could hear for several seconds. "You're getting teased as much as me, huh?"

"No… That's normal," he said, sidling out of the room as his friends continued discussing the logistics of seeing Serena at a show. He didn't know how, exactly, they would manage that, but wasn't about to bring their attention back to him. Easing the door closed behind him, he sighed. Then frowned. "You're getting teased?"

"Oh, just some of the guys shouting 'cowboy shit' when they see me. Nothing major." She laughed again, softer this time. "And a couple of the girls asked if I was jumping ship to AEW."

"Are you?" he asked, lips twitching into a grin.

"Please. Y'all couldn't handle me."

I'd like to. The words popped into his mind and were immediately on his tongue. He swallowed them down, though. And shifted to safer thoughts. "How do they even know about us?"

"Twitter. It's all those fan accounts tweeting that pic from my Instagram all the time. And because Britt posted that video. "

He couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips. Britt hadn't just posted a clip. She'd posted the entire song. And even though it was almost a week later, Adam saw screenshots of it in his mentions, as well as the picture from Serena's Instagram.

The one she'd posted of them at the bar. The one he supposed Brandon or Matt had taken. The one of them sitting together, his arm around her, her smile showing her dimple, him laughing. He had no idea how she had gotten it, because he couldn't remember her giving her number to anyone, though he supposed Cole or Britt could have taken care of that. But it didn't matter. It had been cast out into the universe. A great night, she'd captioned it. Even though he wondered if her bosses wouldn't like her posting pictures of him, he was glad she had. Because he liked that picture. Had saved it and occasionally pulled it up to remember the warmth and happiness he'd felt in those moments. He pulled it up to remember the heat of her hand on his thigh. To remember the way her breath had stuttered when he'd leaned in, and the sudden longing to find out what her lips tasted like. To remember the softness of her skin against his cheek.

And the unmatched feeling of her in his arms. The perfect armful. The scent of strawberries and the sound of the wind whispering through the trees. He'd been surprised by the hug, but damn if it hadn't been welcome. He'd enjoyed holding her close. The comfort of being held, of holding onto her, had eased his weary mind. Her hair under his palm, her head nestled over his chest. It had felt so natural to curl close, let his head rest on hers.

It had taken everything in him to hold back the urge to ask her inside so he could keep holding her.

"Anyway, I called to let you know there's a ticket waiting for you. Come to the East concourse entrance. I'm sending you a pic with that marked because it's on the west side of the building and honestly whoever named the parts of this place must have been on acid. But it'll be there and they'll let you in no matter when you get here."

"Thanks," he said, continuing to smile, but now for her thoughtfulness.

"No problem. I didn't know if you'd bought a ticket already. If you did they'll refund you. If there's a problem tell me and I'll have Hunter take care of it."

Like Hunter would go out of his way to help him. Adam snorted. "It's fine, Serena."

"I'm excited about you coming," she admitted with a small laugh.

"I'm excited too," he confessed. And he was. "I can't wait to see you do an enzuigiri."

"Fuck you," she laughed. "I'm never gonna do one at a show."

"Bet you do," he challenged.

"Nope. That move can go straight to hell. My legs were not designed to stretch like that."

He doubted that. Suddenly, he was wondering just how far her legs could stretch. If he could help them stretch more. He closed his eyes, trying to fight against the mental image of his hands gripping plush thighs. Spreading them. Guiding them over his shoulders or stretching them up until her knees were at her chest. Sweltering heat swept through him and he hissed, "Fuck."

"You okay?"

No, he wasn't. He was gripped with a sudden longing to hold onto her thighs. To feel them squeeze his waist. To find out what sounds would spill from her mouth if he slipped his hand between them. To learn how she would feel and taste on his tongue. His mouth went dry with desire and his cock twitched in his jeans. "Y-yeah," he managed, licking his lips. "I'm fine. …Just hit my funny bone."

"Funny, how hitting your funny bone isn't funny," she mused.

"Right." He cleared his throat. Pushed thoughts of things that would never happen as far from his mind as possible. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, willing his lust to subside.

"I better go. I've got some video package stuff to record."

"Video package?"

"Apparently I'm in the running for the title."

She said it offhandedly, as though she'd won five bucks on a scratch-off, but he could pick up the trace of excitement hidden in her voice. He could almost see her grinning. Could see that dimple. And he began to smile. "Really?"

"Yeah. Not set in stone. You know, plans change?"

"But you're in the running. That's a big deal, Dimples."

"I know, but I'm trying not to – Did you just call me Dimples?"

Fuck, had he? It had rolled off his tongue so easily after popping into his mind. "Maybe I did…"

"Why the hell would you call me that?"

"Because your dimple's cute," he said honestly.

"Thanks," Serena said flatly. "I hate it."

"The nickname? Or the dimple?"

"Both," she said after a moment.

"C'mon," he teased, knowing he had a stupid grin on his face but unable to care. Even when the door opened and Matt glanced out, he continued to grin. "You know your dimple's cute."

"It's a split muscle, Adam, not a beauty mark," Serena scoffed.

"Do you have any of those?" He wanted to know. At the same time, he didn't. Because he would never see them. Glancing up when the door closed, he was surprised that Matt had retreated without comment.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she murmured.

Yes, he would. His tongue darted over his lips. "I'd rather—"

"Shit, they're hollering for me."

"Go record your video package stuff, Dimples. I'll see you later." He pushed away from the wall and pushed his hand into his pocket. Felt the crimped edge of the bottle cap and felt oddly soothed.

"Stop calling me Dimples!"

"Nope." He grinned. "I don't think I will."

"Asshole," she muttered.

"Sweetheart," he corrected.

"Good boy?" It was uttered softly, questioningly, and renewed the heat he'd tried sohard to tamp down.

"For you? Yes ma'am," he sighed. Wondered if she had any idea how much he enjoyed hearing those words. Wondered if he shouldn't enjoy them as much as he did.

"You're a flirtatious bastard, aren't you?"

"Hey, you were the one asking when I'd start flirting."

"Hmm. So I did." She sighed. "I gotta go."

"I'll see you tonight," Adam said.

"Can't wait."

"Me either," he admitted.

"Text me when you get here?"

"Yes ma'am."

She gave a breathy chuckle. "Good boy."

***

I'm here, Dimples.

Oh god stop calling me that!

Never.

Bad boy.

How, Serena wondered, had she and Adam gone from barely tolerating each other to getting along and singing to… Was this flirting? Why would he flirt with her? It wasn't as though anyone would see their texts. And, why would she flirt with him?

Because you like him, a voice taunted in her head.

She did not – okay, she liked him. She would have found it near impossible to not like him. He was funny, charming, and, yes, damn it, a sweetheart. Letting her phone rest in her lap as her makeup was touched up, she pushed him from her thoughts and focused on her upcoming match. The match that Hunter had told her could keep her in the running for the championship.

It was too soon for her to become the champ. Wasn't it? She'd been on TV just two months. She was an unknown. But, for some reason, Hunter seemed to believe in her. As did Shawn and Matt and Sara.

She only wished she could believe in herself half as much as they did.

"All finished, sweetie."

"Thanks." She glanced at her reflection and nodded while sliding out of the seat. Her phone chimed and she looked at the message she'd received from Adam.

You left me a fucking pass?

I think it's a backstage pass, not a fucking one.

You know what I mean.

Yeah. I did. You don't have to come backstage if you don't want to. She didn't even know if he was going to stick around after the show. If he planned to go out or go back to his hotel and crash, or if he had a flight to catch. She should know that, shouldn't she?

I'll come back after the match.

Serena smiled down at her phone.

"Twenty minutes, Serena!"

Fuck. She made a timer for fifteen minutes to give her time to center herself before going to Gorilla.

You booked to win? Or do I gotta see my counterfeit girlfriend lose?

Girlfriend? She almost choked on air while moving away from makeup and slipping around coworkers in search of a quiet spot to compose herself.

Or are we still just fake dating? Pretending to see each other? Hypothetically going out? How am I supposed to label us? I'm not good at this stuff. Let me rephrase. Do I gotta see the lady I'm pretending to talk to lose? That doesn't look right either.

Rolling her eyes, she leaned against the wall.

I'm not telling you the outcome. And… Why do we have to label it?

Good point. And why won't you tell me?

Because if you know I win or I lose you might not be as invested in the match.

Oh come on. I'd tell you.

Because you're a sweetheart. I'm not.

No. You're Dimples.

Ugh.

Closing her messages, she opened Twitter to post a tweet about her match, then allowed herself a few moments to scroll through her timeline. She liked a couple of tweets from coworkers.

And froze when she saw that Adam had tweeted. It was a picture of the NXT banner above the entrance, and his caption made her snort on a laugh.

shit i'm lost

"Idiot," she muttered under her breath, liking the tweet and closing Twitter.

In my seat. Good view. Hope no one notices me.

She wondered what he'd done to appear anonymous. He'd said he'd be somewhat incognito. She almost asked him but didn't. She knew the general area he would be sitting in, she would look for him when she made her entrance.

Why don't you want anyone to notice you?

Because. I don't want people to pay more attention to me than you and… who are you facing? Them. You've obviously done something to earn being in the main event and I don't want to take away from that. Maybe I'm being egotistical but that's why.

"Oh," she whispered. Oh. Oh. The words made her heart squeeze. And for the moment she was able to forget all about the sham. Granted, she forgot all about their alleged relationship when they were talking. When it wasn't flirting and was just talking about wrestling or movies or music or TV or books. When they talked like the friends she thought they were becoming.

I'm facing Rhea. And oh. She sent that, then sighed and began to type again. Deleted the gushing message she'd composed and tried again. Then, finally, managed five words that summed up her thoughts. You really are a sweetheart.

I try to be.

Her timer went off and she silenced it. Sent him another message while walking towards Gorilla. Almost time. See you.

Just before she handed her phone to Hunter for safekeeping, he replied.

Can't wait, Dimples.

She hated the nickname. She really did. But her heart did a funny little flutter that she chalked up to nerves, and her lips pulled into a silly smile. Sliding her phone onto the desk in front of Hunter, she drew in a deep breath and hurried to get into place for her entrance. She had half a minute to compose herself and share a hug for luck with Rhea.

The grinding guitar of her theme began and she shook off the last-minute nerves before ducking through the curtain. Waiting until she was in front of the camera to smooth the front of the t-shirt she'd cut into a tank, smirking for effect while pointing out her first official piece of merch. Basic, maybe, but she was still thrilled to have a shirt in the shop. Her eyes scanned the crowd on either side of the ramp and her smirk deepened when she spotted a couple of fans wearing one. She could tell by the swoop of neon pink that represented her hair in the silhouette. Striding toward the ring, she tossed her hair over her shoulder while ascending the steps.

She ducked between the ropes and realized while jumping onto the second turnbuckle that she was getting more reaction than usual. Her heart pounded in her chest and she stood there for a split second to let the sensation sink in then put a hand over her eye and peered at the crowd as she always did. She had done it during her first entrance, trying to spot her parents in the audience, and Hunter had liked the effect. Told her to do it every time. And when someone had asked on Twitter why she did it, she had decided that her character was looking for someone worthy of watching her perform.

She spotted Adam immediately. Incognito or no, there was no mistaking him. He wore a plain white t-shirt and his hair was pulled back under a cap and he was wearing glasses, but she knew it was him. It was the way he held himself as he stood there, clapping. And though she tried, she couldn't help the little smile that pulled at her lips when she saw him.

Her music faded out and she jumped down, moving to the far corner to wait for Rhea's entrance. And, in the few seconds before her opponent's music started, she heard it.

Cowboy shit!

"Oh my god," she said out loud, clapping a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. He'd been spotted. She wasn't surprised. His disguise was defective.

Rhea's music began, then Rhea was in the ring, and she forgot all about Adam and the fans chanting his catchphrase.

Until midway through the match when she caught Rhea with a clothesline that sent her spinning. When, as she leaned against the turnbuckle to catch her breath, she heard the chants start up again.

Of fucking course, she thought, squatting down to wait for Rhea to get to her feet. That was one of his moves, wasn't it? And, fuck her, fans knew they'd gone out. Had seen him in the pictures she'd posted. And if they knew he was in the building…

Hunter, she mused before launching into action again, was gonna be pissed.

If he was pissed, he didn't show it. Then again, she had always thought he had a resting asshole face. Breathless and slightly unnerved because she had been allowed to win, she watched him approach after she stepped through the curtain. She gathered her hair at the back of her neck and winced when the movement sent an ache through her shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Landed wrong," she said. She doubted it was anything seriously. It just ached a little. She could rotate it fine without major pain. "I'll get it checked."

He nodded. "Great showing."

"Thanks." She was handed a towel and a bottle of water and held them, waiting for more from Hunter.

"You didn't tell me he was coming," he sighed.

"Didn't I?" She cringed. "I'm sorry, but—"

"It's fine. Just warn me next time, alright?"

"Did he do something?" she asked, worried now. "I saw he posted something on Twitter before my match, but… He isn't here to start shit, Hunter. He just came to see me perform live."

"He—" Hunter's face softened, and Serena was reminded of why the entire NXT locker room referred to him as Papa. "He's important to you, isn't he?"

"I think so," she admitted softly. "It's only been a few weeks."

"He didn't do anything. But people knew he was there." Hunter pulled her phone out of his jacket pocket and handed it over. "You've worked too hard over the past year to have your talent outshined by who you're dating."

Well, fuck, what was she supposed to say to that? She hadn't considered any of that when she had formed her not-so-brilliant idea. She had never imagined Adam would come to see her at a show. Had thought their so-called relationship would involve only the occasional text and showing up together at a few parties. Not what it had become. Constant texts. Frequent phone calls and FaceTime chats. Giddiness when he flirted so easily with her. Thinking of him and wanting to talk to him when she learned something new or had heard good news. Wanting to hear his voice when she was having a bad day.

The slow clarity that she wanted it to be real.

"Go get your shoulder checked," Hunter said, gently patting her other shoulder.

She had made two steps when he called her. She turned, eyebrows raised, and saw him smiling.

"Don't forget you're gonna be in the title match at TakeOver."

She had forgotten. Blinking, she stared at Hunter for a long moment before her lips spread into a grin. "Holy shit."

After giving him a grateful hug, she made her way to the back. She was met by Cole, who congratulated her on the match, then grinned.

"You didn't tell me—"

"That he was coming, I know, I was busy. Next time I'll make an announcement, okay?" Her shoulder ached and pain always made her a little cranky. Frowning, she muttered an apology. "It was kind of last minute. Have you seen him?"

"He just got back. He's talking to Finn. Go get your shoulder checked."

"How did you—" Serena cut off with a sigh. Of course he knew. Seeing that he was about to head off, she tugged at his sleeve. "Hey, Cole Slaw."

"Yeah, Mermaid?"

"I'm scared."

Cole's smile faded. "Of what?"

"I think they're pushing me too soon," she admitted, grateful when he tucked his arm around her and guided her down the hallway to the trainer's room. "I've only been on TV for three months."

"And you've been kicking ass," he pointed out.

"But it's too much," she attempted to explain. "I don't want to be thought of as Hunter's new favorite and that's why I'm getting a major push. Shouldn't I flounder until I get my footing? Grow as a character? What the hell is my character except for the pissed off fat chick sick of seeing the pretty girls get the spotlight?"

"Mermaid… Serena." Cole stopped and turned her so she faced him. "Hunter wouldn't be pushing you if he didn't believe in you."

"I know that. But I look around at girls like Candice and Mia and Dakota. They've been here so much longer they're me. And they're amazing! And I'm…I'm not."

"Serena—"

"I'm not," she insisted. She needed him to understand. She was sure that, if she could get her jumbled thoughts in a decent formation, he would. "I know I'm good. I know I'm improving. But… I just can't help feeling that it should be one of them and not me."

Cole sighed. "Kid. You can't think like that. Well, okay, you can. But don't focus on it, okay? Because sometimes you only get the one shot. So you've got to make it count."

Serena nodded. "I know," she whispered. "I don't want to sound ungrateful. I just…"

"You worry and second guess yourself all the damn time. Which is why you can't master your enzuigiri," he added with a grin.

"You…" Serena scowled and pushed at his shoulder. "You know what? Fuck you. Fuck the enzuigiri. I'm gonna master that fucking move, and when I do? I'm taking your stupid head off with it."

His laugh followed her all the way to the trainer's room.

After getting her shoulder evaluated, stretched, and iced, she exited and nearly walked straight into Adam. His hands caught her upper arms to steady them both. She could feel the plastic of a bag crinkling between his hand and her arm and briefly wondered whose merch he'd bought. She couldn't bring herself to look, though, because the only thing she could see was his handsome face lit up with a grin.

"Hey," he said. "Your shoulder okay?"

"Fine." She saw Cole heading toward them. "Did you enjoy what you saw of the show?"

"C'mere," he murmured.

He drew her close, even though she was sweaty and gross. His lips met her forehead in a sweet kiss and she smiled, wrapping her arms around him. She allowed herself to enjoy his arms around her, not bothering to lie and insist in her mind that she was only doing it because others were watching. Because, as soon as his lips touched her forehead, she forgot anyone else was around. He drew her closer and when his lips slid away, she sighed, tipping her head back to look up at his face.

"You were great out there," he said, smiling.

His hands moved up and she lamented the loss of his embrace. But they cupped her face, thumbs sweeping her cheeks sweetly, and she mirrored his smile. "Thanks. I'm glad you got here in time to see."

"Me too. You… I had no idea… Oh, fuck it," he muttered, leaning down.

She gasped softly in anticipation. Felt his breath fan over her lips. Could almost feel the heat of him.

"You two lovebirds got plans?"

"God damn it," Adam muttered, forehead meeting hers before he pulled back.

Serena agreed with his statement and pulled her gaze from his lips, turning her head to see Cole approaching. "What?"

"You two got plans?" Cole asked.

She unclenched her fingers from Adam's shirt and released her breath slowly. She still felt shaky. As though she'd been kissed. Licking her lips, she took a step back. Did they have plans? She had no idea. She couldn't remember. "Do we?" she asked Adam softly. "I'm starving."

He chuckled, fingers trailing her jaw as his hands fell away. "We'll go eat, then."

"I won't be long. Just gotta get a quick shower."

She heard his breath stutter, saw his tongue drag over his bottom lip. "Yeah?"

Filled with a sudden longing to have his arms around her beneath the hot stream of water, she licked her lips. "Yeah."

"God, get a fucking room," Cole muttered. "Where are we going to eat?"

"Does he have to come?" Adam asked her.

"Am I a bitch if I say no?"

"Yes," Cole answered loudly.

"Britt would be mad if we left him out," Serena sighed.

"Yeah. And even though she's a pain in my ass, I don't want to upset her," Adam agreed.

"She is a good friend," she allowed.

"So is he. Sometimes."

"We can lose him if he gets too annoying?" she suggested hopefully.

His sigh was filled with regret. "Too late for that."

"I'm right fucking here," Cole reminded them.

"Go take your shower, Dimples," Adam murmured.

***

About halfway through their meal, his knee began to bounce. He didn't even notice at first. He was used to his anxious energy and his inability to sit completely still. His knee would bounce, he would drum his fingers, he would fiddle with whatever object he could reach – a hair tie, a pen, a straw wrapper. He became vaguely aware of the movement, though, and tried to lessen it while he, Serena, and Cole discussed the possibility of he and Serena having dinner with Cole and Britt soon.

"Yeah, that sounds fine with me," he agreed after checking his schedule and letting Cole suggest a tentative day the next week. About to ask if Britt would be good with it, he picked up his fork to take another bite of his food.

And dropped it when a hand landed on his thigh.

He glanced down and saw Serena's fingers splayed across the denim. He'd never noticed that her nails were painted the same shade of pink as her hair. Pressing his lips together tightly when she squeezed, he cleared his throat and picked up his fork again.

"Okay?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he murmured, reaching with his left hand to cover hers.

It wasn't until they were being served dessert that he noticed his knee had stopped bouncing. Her hand had stayed on his thigh the entire time, squeezing occasionally. When he pushed away his plate and draped his arm over her shoulders, her fingers dug in. He watched them relax, instinctively sucked in his belly when they slid until they rested at his inner thigh. His gaze darted to her thighs, mostly concealed by the napkin she'd laid in her lap.

Would she mind if he reciprocated? Would she push him away if his hand slipped beneath the napkin? He knew she was wearing a pair of shorts. He couldn't remember what color or pattern they were, but knew they left plenty of real estate exposed. And he had the sudden overwhelming craving to feel her skin beneath his fingertips. To watch her face and see the shock. Surprise. Pleasure? He could hope.

Cole was talking but Adam didn't hear a word he said. It was obvious Serena did, because she was speaking, too. He pulled his arm from her shoulders and reached for his glass of tea. Took a sip in hopes it would quench the sudden dryness in his throat.

Would she be upset if he touched her thigh? He couldn't come out and ask her. Not with Cole sitting across from then, laughing and talking about… Whatever he was talking about. Adam heard a few bits and dismissed the topic as nowhere near as interesting as Serena's thighs. And how they would feel beneath his palm.

How they'd part for him. The breathy, gasping noise she would make when his fingers crept upward. How her eyes would glow as he cupped her.

How she'd feel. Wet and needy. Was she a moaner? A squealer? Or did she pant? Gasp? He longed to find out. To stumble his way through until he unlocked the secret touch that would have her screaming. And then he wanted to hold those thighs apart and find out how she felt around his cock. Whether she liked it fast and intense, or slow and tender.

He took another gulp of tea, pushed his glass onto the table, then reached to clasp her hand. It kept straying, and though he wanted nothing more than for her to keep moving it until she was holding something harder than his thigh, he knew he wouldn't be able to take it. Her hand slipped into his easily, their fingers lacing together so naturally he didn't know it had happened until her thumb hooked around his. And when she drew his hand into her lap, he gave a little sigh.

"You're not listening to a word I'm saying."

Adam blinked. Saw Cole sitting across from them. His mind warred between focusing on his friend or memorizing the plushness of Serena's thigh against the back of his hand. Sucking in a breath, he reached with his left hand to adjust his bulge as inconspicuously as possible. Then, meeting Cole's eyes, he grinned. "Not a fucking bit, man."

"Asshole," his friend muttered.

"Leave him alone," Serena chided. She slipped her hand free of Adam's and pulled her napkin from her lap.

"Yeah, leave me alone," Adam said with a chuckle, biting the tip of his tongue when his palm landed on flesh softer than any silk. It took all his willpower to keep from squeezing it tight, but he allowed his fingers to stroke idly. Glancing quickly at her face, he saw her tongue dart over her lips and gave her thigh a tiny squeeze.

"Excuse me," she said suddenly, dropping her napkin onto her plate.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Fine," she promised with a small smile. Her hand covers his and squeezed. "I've just got to go to the restroom."

"Hurry back," he whispered without thinking before standing so she could slide out of the booth.

She looked at him, her expression adorably sweet, when he held out a hand to assist her. "As quick as I can."

Her shorts were white. How had he not noticed before? And how had he never noticed that her skin held the glow of a natural tan?

"So it's going good?" Cole asked.

Adam tore his gaze from Serena's hips and looked to his friend. He'd heard the man's voice. Knew he'd asked a question. But, lost in his thoughts and the fantasies he knew would never come true, he had no idea what had been said. From the corner of his eye he watched her bright pink ponytail sway as she turned the corner and disappeared and gave his head a tiny shake. Sitting down, he cleared his throat. "What?"

"You and Serena." Cole laughed and leaned back. "It's going good?"

"Oh. Yeah. I think so? It seems to be. We're taking it slow." God, he hoped those were the right things to say. He and Serena hadn't discussed just how they would answer questions like that. He thought about sending her a quick text, but noticed she'd left her phone on the table. Clearing his throat, he took a sip of his tea. "Yeah, it's going good."

"Have you two…" A hand raised into the air and gestured wildly.

"Jesus Christ," Adam groaned. He felt his cheeks burn and wondered why. He'd never been embarrassed about sexual talks before. He had done his fair share of bragging. And hadn't he just been imagining all the delightful, sexual ways he'd like to enjoy Serena's body?

"You don't have to answer."

Thank god.

"I don't fucking want details, because she's like a kid sister." Cole shuddered as though he'd been plagued with a disgusting mental image. "But I can tell you are."

"You can?" His voice sounded strained.

"Dude." His friend chuckled. "It's practically radiating off you guys."

"What's radiating off us?"

"Sex." Cole looked at him knowingly. "It's in the eye fucking."

"We're not eye fucking," Adam argued.

"Please, it's all the two of you have been doing since you met up backstage."

"She's like your kid sister. You really want me to tell you if I've been fucking her?" Adam asked.

"No!"

"Then why bring it up?"

"It was an observation. Fucking hell, I'm happy for you, man."

"Because I got laid?" He glanced in the direction of the restrooms. Where the hell was she? Why did it take so long for a woman to take a piss? When would she come back and save him from this torture?

"Ye-No." Sighing, Cole picked up his glass and shook some ice into his mouth. "Because you're happier than I've seen you in a long time, dickhead. And I'm happy that you're making Serena happy."

Adam managed a smile. Was he making her happy? Or was she just that damn good an actress? "I'm not making her happy."

"Sure you are."

"No." Adam shook his head. "She's a happy person, Cole. I knew that when I met her. Maybe I help her relax after she's had a stressful day? Especially with you bugging her about moves and practice and over-analyzing every little thing instead of giving her time to breathe."

"She has it in her to be the best," Cole defended. "I saw that the first time I watched her practicing at the PC. But she's got self-doubt and… It holds her back."

I know my place, Adam.

"Hey," he said suddenly, glancing in the direction of the restrooms to make sure she wasn't on her way back. "Why's she so down on herself?"

"How do you mean?"

"Come on," Adam sighed. "You've got to know. She… She thinks she's not good enough. For anything."

Cole sighed heavily. "I don't know for sure. But right after she was signed, she went out a few times with… It's not important who. She didn't tell me everything, but she was a wreck after they stopped seeing each other. It was obvious to me that he crushed her. I can tell she's always had insecurities, but they were worse after him."

"Who?" Adam demanded.

"It's not my place to tell you." Cole smiled sadly. "I was gonna fuck him up, but she made me promise not to. She said he just…"

Adam waited while his friend hesitated.

"He just confirmed the fears she had about herself," he finished softly.

Deflated, Adam sank back in the booth. He wondered if he would be able to wrangle the name of the bastard from Cole. Or from Serena. No, he doubted that would happen. They hadn't talked about previous relationships, except for the ones Cole and Britt had tried to nudge them into.

"It's why me and Britt have been so pushy about her putting herself out there. Our friendship clicked when we met, you know? But after that… I couldn't see her go through that again, man. She's my friend, yeah, and I bitch at her constantly, but I want the best for her. Not just in the ring but in life. She deserves happiness."

"She does," Adam agreed softly. He caught movement out the corner of his eye. A flash of pink. Turning his head, he watched her approach the booth. Her pretty, dimpled smile was in place, and he felt his heart tumble over itself when her eyes locked with his.

"She's happy, Page," Cole murmured.

"I know."

She stopped to chat to their server, and he watched her smile turn into a grin. Smiled himself when the server pulled out their phone and she leaned in close to take a selfie with them.

"Page?"

Adam turned his head to look at Cole. "Yeah?"

"She's happy. Whether it's you or because of you or just because you being around lifts her spirits… She's happier than I've seen her in months." His friend's face shifted into seriousness. "Please keep doing what you're doing."

He bit his tongue and swallowed to keep the panicked laugh from bubbling past his lips. What the fuck was he doing that was so great? He was just talking to her and texting her and letting his mind come up with positions their bodies would never be in. All he was doing was letting himself pretend it was real. Just a little bit.

He was just setting himself up for heartbreak.

Standing when she approached the booth, he breathed in the aroma of her as she slid in. The fruit was from her lip balm. Her hair smelled of coconut and cocoa. Sitting down, he instinctively reached for her hand, eyes meeting hers as their fingers twined. Their thumbs hooked and he smiled, his heart giving a little jump when she smiled in return.

Yep, he was going to get his heart broken. And there wasn't a fucking thing he could do about it.

***

It was late when Adam got to the hotel. Grumpy with sleepiness, he jerked the earbuds from his ears and headed straight for the bed. He was almost on autopilot as he plugged his phone in to charge and stripped, tossing the earbuds onto the nightstand after setting a series of alarms for every ten minutes so he would get up on time.

He was about to lie down when he groaned and dragged himself into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Then, switching out the lights, he crawled into bed. Had just gotten comfortable when his phone screen lit up with an incoming call. He almost ignored it but was already reaching for it. Dragging it close so he could see who was calling him. It took him a few seconds to remember he'd changed her name.

Dimples.

Was something wrong? Frowning, he accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear. "Hey."

No reply.

"Dimples?" He listened closely but heard nothing.

Then, a faint rustle and a soft sigh.

She must have accidentally called him. He pushed the phone tighter to his ear, trying to gauge if she was asleep or busy getting ready for bed, but could hear nothing. About to disconnect, he froze when he heard a small noise.

A soft moan.

Over the weeks, he had heard several different types of moans pass her lips. The growly moan she made when she was sleepy. The tiny moan of pleasure when she was eating something delicious. A groan of pain. A moan of frustration when he was being a sassy asshole. But this… This was different.

There was a rustling, and he heard her breathing.

Then a breathy gasp.

"Oh…"

"Fuck," he whispered without meaning to.

Was she getting herself off? Had she called him so he could listen in?

No, he decided, licking his lips as another moan filled his ear. She wouldn't do that. Nothing remotely sexual had happened between them. Their teasing stayed playful, and when he could feel himself wanting to turn it erotic, he shifted gears or came up with a reason to end the call.

Carefully, he rolled onto his back, biting his lip. He should hang up. She would be mortified if she knew he was listening. Wouldn't she?

She moaned again, louder, and he dragged his hand over his face. His cock stirred and he held his breath, willing himself to pull the phone from his ear, end the call, and go to sleep. But the phone stayed where it was while she moaned once more. He was still heady from her hand on his thigh. From the plush thigh beneath his own hand. From the several times they had almost kissed. His cock grew hard and twitched. And, with a shiver, he reached to snatch his earbuds from the nightstand. It took three tries to get them plugged in, and he had the foresight to mute his end of the call, not sure he'd forgive himself if he made a noise that ended her self-pleasure.

Her moans grew long. Deep.

Was she lying on her back? Sitting up, legs spread? He exhaled sharply, pressing one hand down over his dick to alleviate the pressure as mental images began to swarm. Picturing the fingers that had danced over his thigh tracing a wet slit, he licked his lips. Let his eyes drift closed as her moans filled his ears.

More rustling. A soft gasp.

The unmistakable sound of fingers moving over a slick pussy. Holding his breath, he palmed his dick, picturing her fingers growing wet. He squeezed, spread the precum down. Focusing on her little gasps and the muffled sounds of her wet pussy, he began to stroke hard despite telling himself he would take it slow.

"Oh fuck," she whined.

He could see her in his mind. Thighs spread, hips lifted off the bed. The tits he tried so hard not to think about swaying. Her face masked in indulgence.

"Fuck," he hissed, pulling his cock faster. It had been too long since he'd been, however accidentally, helped in getting off. Too long since the sounds in his ears hadn't been the obviously fake sounds of porn. For a fleeting moment he feared he wouldn't last long enough to enjoy the sound of her cumming but pushed the thoughts away and fixed his mind on gratification.

Her breathing was jerky. Punctuated with gasping moans and the occasional whimper. He tried to time the movements of his hand with her, but she flitted from slow to fast so quickly he lost track. Panting, he worked his cock, other hand slipping to grasp the sheet.

"Ohh…" It was a desperate growl, accompanied by the sound of her fingers working faster.

"C'mon," he moaned, squeezing his dick tightly. He was so close. He needed to cum. Needed her to get him there. He might never get to feel her cunt spasm around his dick, but he could savor her sounds and pretend.

"Ah—" Serena's squeal ended in a soft cry.

"Oh fuck," Adam growled, throwing his head back. His hips rolled, his body focused on its pursuit of release. He was gonna—

"Adam!"

His cock throbbed in his fist. His heart thudded in his chest. Ecstasy ripped through him, wrenching a strangled cry from his lungs. Arms shaking, he heard her cry of his name echo in his brain as he came. His eyes clenched shut, he slowed the movement of his hand, working his dick in fluid motions to urge out every drop.

"Oh my god," she was gasping when clarity returned to him.

"Oh my god," he echoed, lifting a trembling hand to drag it over his face.

Loud rustling filled his ears, scattered with her short breaths.

He released his cock and slowly sat up, hissing as his cum trickled down his abdomen. Sweaty and sticky, he suddenly craved a hot shower. Almost as much as he craved holding her in his arms. He groped for his phone. Reaching to unmute his end, he winced when his thumb jabbed the end button and her little gasps were cut off.

Should he call her back? Tell her he'd heard everything?

He didn't want to tell her that. Didn't want her to feel shame or guilt for pleasuring herself. He just had an overwhelming urge to tell her what had been in his heart and mind for several days. He just wanted her to know that he was open to making it all real.

He just needed to tell her that it was real to him.

But it was too late at night for that kind of talk. So, ignoring the cum drying on his skin, he brought up his messages and hesitated before tapping out a quick message to her.

Good night, Dimples. He stared at it, then added a heart emoji before pressing send.

When he returned to the bed after a quick shower, he pulled his phone close to see if she'd replied.

And smiled when he saw she had sent a heart emoji.

***

"Hey," Adam said, cupping the back of his neck with his hand as he spoke into the phone. "Just checking in. Again… I know you're busy today, but can you please call me back? We… I really think we need to talk."

He pulled the phone away from his ear and hit end with more force than necessary. Was she avoiding him? Had she figured out that she'd called him and he'd overheard her? He slowly pulled in a breath and ignored the stab of lust at the memory of her crying out her name.

"Everything okay?"

Kenny. Looking up from his phone, which mocked him with its silence, Adam blinked. "Yeah?"

"You keep dipping out and making calls." Kenny's face showed concern. "What's wrong?"

"Serena."

Kenny frowned. "What happened?"

"Oh! No, no, she's fine," he promised. "At least I think she is. I haven't talked to her today."

"She's probably busy."

"Yeah."  He knew she was. Had spent an hour that morning stalking through social media to find out she had several TV spots, a radio interview, and a meet and greet before lunch. He didn't begrudge her being busy. It was kind of exciting, knowing that whoever was in charge of such things at NXT believed in her so much they scheduled so much for her to do. But damn, he'd hoped she'd at least call and say hi between interviews or while on her way to her autograph signing. He hadn't even gotten a text from her. And she always sent him a text after she had breakfast to tell him what she was going to be doing that day.

"Are you two…" Kenny pressed his hands together and tapped his mouth with his index fingers. "Serious?"

"I think it's getting that way," he admitted with a sigh. And, because it was Kenny, he kept talking. Because he knew he could trust Kenny. "I didn't think it would be at first, y'know? 'Cause I haven't had serious in a long time."

"I know," Kenny murmured.

"I like talking to her every day," he confessed softly.

Kenny smiled. "I'm sure she likes talking to you, too. Otherwise she wouldn't call so much."

Adam chuckled, remembering how her call had interrupted their segment they'd recorded for BTE. Brandon's laughter when the ringtone had begun to blare. Kenny's indulgent smile. Then his own insistence he have a few minutes to chat with her before they did it again.

"She'll call," Kenny assured him.

Would she? He hoped so.

She didn't call. Even though he called her three more times between lunch and dinnertime. Even though he sent several texts. Even though he called Cole for some made up reason and mentioned he hadn't heard from her that day. He knew it wasn't because his phone was messed up. Other people called. He talked to his parents. His sister. He even talked to a former student who was trying to talk him into coming to a reunion at the high school.

Was she scared to talk to him? Had she looked at her recent calls and seen they'd been connected for thirty minutes at three in the morning? Had she known when she'd picked up her phone after recovering from what, to him, had sounded like a damned good orgasm?

He almost texted her that he'd listened. He even pulled up their message thread and began typing out the words a few times, ranging from carefully worded to abrupt. I enjoyed your late-night call. Let's do it again? had become I like the way you scream my name. had become I haven't cum like that in ages. Maybe we should try it together?

He hadn't sent either of them. Had cleared the words and settled for something innocent and safe. The time his match was supposed to start, with the addendum that he hoped he'd be able to talk to her before he went out.

Still his phone stayed silent. As though completely dead, the screen stayed black while he got into his gear. And while he warmed up.

Then, when there were just five minutes before he was supposed to make his entrance, it began to ring.

Yeah, I could use a Texas man, who's not afraid to take his time.

"Heart Eyes," Kenny guessed with a grin.

Laughing with relief, Adam snatched up his phone and accepted the call. "Hey," he greeted, nodding his thanks when Kenny took his tag belt. Grabbing his bandanna, he followed Kenny down the hall. "I've been blowing up your phone all day, Dimples."

"Sorry." She sounded embarrassed. "I've been running around like… What's a cute Southern phrase for busy?"

"Like a chicken with its head cut off?" he suggested, too happy to hear her voice to be mad she hadn't called him until now.

"That's gross," she laughed.

"Like a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest?"

"That would probably be seen as offensive."

"A one-armed wallpaper hanger?"

"We'll stick with the chicken," she decided. "I didn't get much sleep and had to be up at six forty-five to do media."

"Why didn't you get enough sleep?" he asked carefully.

"I was too keyed up after dinner," she said after a moment, her tone just as careful as his had been.

"Dimples—"

"Are you doing anything tonight?" she blurted.

"Not a damn thing." Feeling the bandanna slipping from his fingers, he glanced to see Kenny taking it to tie the ends.

"I'm about to go out for my match, but I'll call you after? I know you're too far for us to see each other, but… I know you need to talk to me." Her tone was apologetic. "I wasn't avoiding you. I promise."

He'd known that, but it felt good to hear her say it. He felt weight lift from his shoulders. "I know, Dimples."

"We can FaceTime?"

"Sure." He took the tied bandanna from Kenny. "I'm about to go out for my match."

"Us, wrestling at the same time?" She laughed. "Someone would probably say it's destiny."

"Us, whooping ass at the same time," he mused, unable to stop grinning. "Sounds like it's meant to be."

Us. He liked them being us. He could barely wait to tell her he wanted them to really be us.

"Adam?"

"Yeah?" He knew he needed to end the call. Heard one of the production assistants call out that there was only a minute until the next entrance. His entrance.

"I…" She sighed deeply. "I can't wait to talk to you later."

"I can't either," he promised.

"Have fun out there."

"I always do," he murmured. "You too."

"I do." Her voice was as warm as a crackling fire on a cold winter's night. "Bye."

He ended the call, still grinning. Funny, how just a few minutes talking to her eased the stress of his day. He handed his phone over to Cody and tugged his bandanna into place, clapping hands with Kenny and leaning into a quick hug just before his music began.

The match passed in a blur. The cheering of the crowd. The lights blinding him when he landed on his back. The world spinning when he flipped over the ropes. The taste of blood when Butcher's elbow caught him in the lip. The ringing of the bell echoing in that split second before the cheers turned into a roar and the music filled the arena.

He wiped the blood from his lip as he and Kenny stepped behind the curtain. Took a towel to scrub the blood away. Had just been handed a bottle of water when Cody approached him.

Adam knew in an instant that his friend was bringing him bad news. The water bottle slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. He barely felt the splash of cold against his leg. "What?"

"I'm sure she's okay," Cody began. "Go—"

"What's wrong?" he demanded, throwing the towel down to catch whatever water had spilled.

"I don't know for sure." Cody dragged a hand over his face. "Serena lost her footing on the top rope and fell. She hit the apron. Brandi showed me some videos on Twitter."

"How bad?" Adam whispered, heart rattling in his chest. Hadn't they just been discussing injuries the day before? And hadn't she said she'd been lucky enough to avoid anything worse than a busted lip? When Cody didn't answer, he tried to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat. "How bad?"

"She was bleeding. She finished the match. Nick's on the phone with Cole. But Adam—"

"Nick?" Adam's head turned, looking for his friend.

"Locker room," Cody said.

He was already heading in that direction. Cody had looked too worried for it to be something minor. Her finishing the match didn't mean a fucking thing. Did it? Suddenly, everything he knew about in-ring injuries disappeared from his brain. He heard footsteps behind him, heard Kenny's voice, but pushed ahead, bursting into the locker room. He skidded to a stop when he saw Nick standing in the center of the room, phone pressed to his ear and brow furrowed with worry.

"Hold on, he just came in," Nick murmured into the phone. Lowering it, he looked to Adam. "They're treating her for a concussion."

"Is she okay?"

"They don't know yet. He and Shawn are at the hospital with her."

"Fuck," Adam wheezed. It had to be bad if Shawn had gone with her. He pushed his hands through his hair. He needed a shower. He was sweaty, sticky, and reeked of the beer he'd chugged ringside. "What are they doing?"

"Cole doesn't know. They're running tests."

"Adam." Kenny's hand rested gently on his shoulder. "Go take a shower, okay? I'll order an Uber for you."

"Thanks," he whispered, hating how broken the word sounded.

"We'll get you there," Kenny promised, guiding him forward with gentle pressure. "Just get ready."

He had more questions. They formed and tumbled in his mind as he took the quickest shower of his life, and by the time he dried off and began to dress the questions were a storm in his mind. When he came out from the shower, he saw Kenny, Matt, Nick, and Cody waiting for him, their faces showing concern.

"You shouldn't go alone," Kenny said.

Adam shook his head. He didn't know what to say. He didn't care if he went alone or if the entire fucking company went with him. He just needed to get there. Needed to see her. Once he found the words to say, they came out in a whisper. "Any word?"

"She's getting a CT scan," Nick answered when everyone else looked to him. "They don't think it's bad, but she was throwing up. And she was confused. Kept saying she had to get ready for her match and talked about calling… You."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He needed to see her. Talk to her. "Where's the Uber?"

"It's coming." Kenny moved to Adam's suitcase and began picking up his scattered things. "Come on, I'll help you pack."

"I'll go with you," Nick offered.

Adam blinked, mind flashing and echoing. Serena dancing in Nick's arms. Laughing at things he said. Serena saying that Nick had texted and called her. And even though she wasn't really his, he didn't want the man near her. "No," he blurted, scowling. "Fuck you."

He saw Matt's eyes widen at his outburst, heard the man ask something. Watched Nick shrug.

"Adam." Kenny. Voice still gentle and calming. "I'll go with you, buddy, okay?"

"Yeah," he said, aware that his hands were shaking as he dropped his gear into his suitcase.

"Why not me?" Nick asked.

"Because fuck you, that's why," Adam snapped, eyes on Kenny's hands neatly tucking his things into the suitcase.

"He's in shock," Kenny said. "Don't take it personally."

Adam snorted. Lifted his head in time to see Nick squinting with doubt. He looked back to Kenny. "No I'm not. Fuck him."

"You know, you—"

"Shut the fuck up," Kenny warned. "Go away. Please."

A hand landed on his arm. Kenny's hand. Pulling him back. He looked down. Saw that he'd moved toward Nick. Felt his hand tightened in a fist. Exhaling shakily, he let himself be pulled back. Sank down on the bench and unclenched his fingers.

"We'll go meet the Uber," Matt announced, jerking on Nick's arm as he headed out. "Dude, what the hell did you do?"

"Nothing," Nick yelped, stumbling after his brother. "Unless he's pissed at me for texting Serena?"

He was on his feet for a second, then was being dragged back down.

"Don't," Kenny said softly. "He deserves it, but it won't fix anything."

Adam sighed, picking up his toiletry bag and shoving it into his suitcase. He glanced up when the locker room door closed and saw that they were alone. "Can we go?"

"The Uber's not here yet." Kenny's eyes were sympathetic.

Adam suddenly felt as though he were going to cry.

"She's gonna be okay."

"I gotta get to her," he whispered, raking his fingers through his hair. It was still wet. He'd barely swiped the towel over it.

"You will."

"I gotta take care of her. She's my girl. That's what I'm supposed to do, right? Take care of her."

"Of course," Kenny agreed, moving to pack his own stuff.

"Even if she isn't really my girl." He frowned. Thought of her calling them us. "I want her to be my girl. It's a mess because I wasn't supposed to feel things for her. It…"

He trailed into a huff of air, slowly raising his head to see Kenny looking at him. And he knew that Kenny had known all along. Was certain when his friend dipped his head in a brief nod.

"I want her to be my girl," he said again. "I was gonna tell her tonight. Because… 'Cause…"

His eyes burned. His vision blurred. He blinked. Felt the scorch of tears on his cheeks.

"Adam. Adam. Hey." Kenny. Moving closer. Arm around his shoulders. Drawing him in and squeezing him. "It's okay, buddy. I know, alright? I know. But it's gonna be okay. You can tell her you want her to be your girl after you help her get through this."

"I don't know what to do." He scrubbed at his eyes. Wishing he could quit imagining her lying on the floor with blood pouring from her head.

"We'll figure it out. C'mon. Let's head out, so we can get you to Heart Eyes."

A shaky laugh escaped. "She'd hate it if she knew you call her that."

"Would she?"

"She hates that I call her Dimples. She says she does. But when I say it she smiles, y'know? And I get to see that dimple." He needed to see that smile again.

The night air was cool but Adam hardly noticed, chewing on his thumbnail while he and Kenny climbed into the Uber. The driver spoke. Showed signs of being chatty. But Adam was grateful when he fell into silence once they were on the road. He reached for his phone so he could text Cole, then panicked when he found his pockets empty.

"Here." Kenny handed over his wallet and phone, then the handful of change Adam always kept on him.

He picked through the change. Found the item he'd been thinking of and clutched it in one hand while shoving his wallet and change into his pocket. The ridged edges of the bottle cap dug into his skin and he squeezed it harder, inhaling deeply and trying to think of splashing water. Fairy lights. Laughter.

It worked. Barely. Able to breathe, he held onto the cap while unlocking his phone and opening his texts. And although he knew there wouldn't be one from her, he opened the thread with Serena and read over the last few texts she'd sent.

Okay so you say you won't wear my merch because it has pink. But you wear that pink western shirt a lot. Therefore, you can wear my merch. And if I can wear 'cowboy shit' while doing a podcast stream, you can wear my silhouette with the pink swoop. Getting you one from the merch stand tonight.

He'd wear it with pride. Fuck, he'd even wear it in a BTE bit. He'd post an Instagram story of him wearing it. If she was okay, he would wear it until the pink wore off. And he'd even tell her he'd already bought one of her shirts when he'd gone to see her match.

Just realized I didn't answer your question when we were on the phone! Yes I did listen to some Peck. His voice is gut-wrenching and his melodies are bittersweet. A little reminiscent of those old western musicals, don't you think? Anyway, I want someone to pull some strings so I can get him to write me a new entrance theme.

Adam smiled. He'd told her she'd get Orville Peck to do her theme over his dead body, because he was angling to get his own redone by the man. But… As long as she was okay, he would do everything in his power to make it happen.

Britt texted and asked if we had a "song" yet. That's cliché as hell isn't it? But cute. I haven't answered her, but if we've got to have a "song" can we be cliché and make it Don't Go Breaking My Heart? Since it's the first song we sang together.

He wanted to sing with her again. Wanted to see her smile because she was having fun. Wanted to hold her hand and serenade her. Wanted to hear her tell him he sounded like Kenny Rogers.

He just wanted to hold her hand. He liked holding her hand. He liked the comfort of it, the way her thumb idly stroked his.

Fans outside when I got to the venue. When I was getting out of the car they started chanting 'cowgirl shit' and honestly? Tempted to tell Hunter I want to change my gimmick. Would you sue me for copyright infringement or is it ok since we're dating?

Scratch that. I want to be myself. I refuse to ride your assless chaps into stardom.

Smart woman, his Serena. He didn't want her to gain popularity just because of him. Especially since what they had wasn't real.

But God, it felt so fucking real. If it wasn't a little real, would he be so worried? So upset? Would he be praying and attempting to bargain with the big guy upstairs if he didn't care?

No.

He did care. Each day he cared more. Each day it was getting harder and harder to remember that it was a sham. Especially late at night when he would call her or she would call him and they would sleepily talk about their days. When he would lie in bed with his phone on the pillow next to him and could almost pretend she was lying there. When he ended the call and turned off the light and wished she were there to hold onto.

Specifically now, after she had called his name at her most passionate moment.

"Oh god," he gasped, bringing both hands up to his face. She had to be okay. She had to. So he could hold her in his arms and tell her that he didn't want it to be a charade. That he was starting to fall and, damn it, even if she wasn't, he wanted her to give him a chance.

"Bad news?" The driver asked, sounding concerned.

Kenny rubbed Adam's shoulder and sighed. "Yeah. His girl got hurt at work, but she's gonna be okay."

His girl. He wanted nothing more than for his girl to be okay. He needed her to be okay.

****

#adam page fanfiction #adam page imagine #aew imagine #aew fanfiction #my fics #multipart:BITN #they just keep getting longer and longer #I could have chopped this into 2 parts couldn't I? #oh well too late now

[champhangman]

Bleed Into the Night - Part Seven

Title: Bleed Into the Night Part: Seven / ? Characters: Hangman Adam Page x OFC Summary: She wasn’t looking. Neither was he. For a brief flash, they found each other. Word Count: 6,835 Warnings: Explicit descriptions of sexual situations. Previous: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six |   

Tagging:  @adampage / @cowboyshit / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy /  @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch / @wardl0w / @what-does-mine-say / @waywardwrestlewritingwaif / @drewshoneybadger  / @mysteryoflovve / @knnyomega / @rampagewriting / @hurricanranabaybay / @snarkandsarcasmftw / @kploveswrestling 

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Seven

 Adam blinked. Hesitated, but only a moment, only until she met his eyes and whispered his name. He caressed her cheeks, his thumb trailing to trace the dimple that appeared when she smiled. Then, dipping his head, he found her lips for a tender kiss.

Whiskey and cinnamon and strawberries. He'd never taste either of them again without thinking of her.

She yanked on his shirt and he groaned. He didn't want to take his lips from hers. He drew one hand from her face and reached blindly. A moan pulled from deep in his chest when his fingers slid over her hip. He squeezed, was rewarded with a delicate moan from her, then pushed his hand behind her. He allowed himself to grasp a handful of her ass and felt her move her hips toward him. Her leg slid between his thighs, just grazing his straining cock and he gasped into her mouth.

They stumbled towards the bed and he knew it was relief, urgency, the inferno of desire that made them move so drunkenly. He caught her to him when she would have dropped onto the bed and dipped to catch her lips in another heated kiss. His fingers inched up her torso, and he stopped just before he reached the curve of her breasts.

"What?" she gasped when he broke the kiss.

Panting, he lifted his hands to cup her face, gently tilting her head back so he could rest his forehead against hers. "I need to tell you something."

"What?" she repeated, tongue darting over her lips. "Do you have some weird kink?"

"No." He grinned, because of course that would be her first question. "Do you?"

"If I do, I don't know it yet." Her fingertips traced his skin just above the waistband of his jeans then trailed up to his chest. "What do you need to tell me?"

"I liked you from the moment I met you."

"No shit," she murmured, lips curving into the adorable grin that he loved. "I liked you, too."

Chuckling, he kissed her again, fingers slipping into her hair. He grunted when her braid kept him from running his fingers through it as he longed to do and he fumbled to find the end, dragging the band securing it away then quickly working to undo the braid. Once her hair was loose, he dragged his fingers through it, nipping at her lip when she hummed.

"Adam," she moaned, curling her arms around his neck.

"I got you," he promised. He wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her onto the bed. Their lip crashed together and he couldn't pull away. Couldn't bring himself to lift his head. Even though his tongue ached to taste the rest of her.

She broke the kiss with an intense moan, head twisting to the side, gasping for breath. Adam took the opportunity to kiss the side of her neck, breathing deeply so her scent would burn itself in his memory. He needed her. Had needed her for weeks. Had wanted her since that first night. Cursing over the stupidity that had made him waste precious time with her, he hissed through his teeth when her hands slipped between them and worked to drag her shirt up to her chest. He sucked in his belly, fingers all but clawing at her bra. He heard the jingle of his belt buckle above the sound of her desperate breathing. Jerked the lace of her bra down just as he felt his jeans loosen.

"I need you," he panted, hands dragging down her sides. He felt her shiver. Shivered himself at the feel of her fingers pushing his boxer briefs down. He pushed at her skirt, burying his face in the valley of her breasts. He could smell her. Sweet and aromatic, the fragrance of her desire made him more desperate.

Her hand wrapped around his cock. Squeezed. Stroked. Little gasps came from her throat, and the heel of her sandal dug into his thigh.

"Need you now," he growled as his searching fingers met slick flesh. He nearly shoved her thighs further apart so he could sink into her. But he resisted. Licked and nibbled her nipples until they were stiff. Teased her slit until his fingers were drenched. Forced himself to go slowly as he eased one finger into her pussy.

"Adam," she cried, arching.

He lifted his head, leaned up to kiss her. "What do you need, baby?"

"You." It was a low, scorching moan that sent a wave of heat through his entire body and caused his cock to twitch in her hand. "Please…"

He groaned. Torn. He wanted to take his time. Figure out how to torment her until she was so desperate, she couldn't speak. He wanted to explore every delicious inch of her. Wanted to spend a lifetime with her thighs squeezing his head while he drank from her. But he needed to be inside her. To lose himself in her. With a hiss, he pulled his hand from between her thighs and grabbed her hip. "We'll take it slower later."

"Yes," she hissed, squirming, hands slipping to his waist.

After he eased his cock inside her, after he gasped and whined because she was so tight around his dick, after he felt her tremble and her nails bit into his waist, after he nearly came, because she felt that good, it occurred to him that he should have put on a condom. Should have at least asked if he needed to. And although he knew he should pull out and do the proper thing, he couldn't bear the idea of withdrawing from her body.

"Fuck, Adam," she whined, and he slowly grew aware that she was shaking beneath him.

Her fingernails were almost painful in his skin but he enjoyed it. Gasping as she tightened around him, he dug his fingers into her hips. He gulped when her thighs hugged his waist and bent forward, lips parting against hers. Her moans and whines filled his mouth and crashed with his, creating a sound that was almost desperate in its urgency. He kept his hips still even though he longed to push deeper, wanted to get completely lost in her and how wonderful she felt.

She dragged her nails up, fingers flexing at his sides. Then her hands dropped and she began yanking on his shirt. "Off," she gasped as she broke the kiss. "Wanna feel you."

Loathe to pull back, he groaned, stealing another kiss before pushing himself upright. He snatched the shirt off, panting as she wriggled to remove hers. His hips gave an impatient roll and with a low growl he reached to jerk the shirt over her head. Planting his hands on either side of her head, he stared into her eyes, taking two seconds to drink in her beauty in the soft light. Cheeks flushed, lips damp, eyes dark and shining. Her hands trailed down his arms and he felt her fingers slide between his, squeezing, and when she whispered his name, he allowed himself to move.

She gripped him. Legs, hands, pussy, she surrounded him, drew him deeper. Her soft gasps and little moans were the sexiest sounds he'd ever heard. When she began to roll beneath him, he moaned, giving her a quick kiss before leaning back. She made a little whine as he pulled his hands free of hers, then reached to hold onto his wrists once he grasped her hips.

"Okay?" he asked softly, licking his lips when her body rolled.

Her dimple showed. "Amazing."

Yeah, she was. He meant to say it but couldn't articulate the words. Too busy drinking in the sight of her as their bodies surged together. The way her teeth would catch her lips, how her eyes drifted closed and her head tipped back. The pulse in her throat, tits bouncing with each thrust. He smoothed his hands down to her thighs, fingers curling into the softness briefly then he swept them upwards, needing to touch as much of her body as he could possibly reach.

The air around them, already thick with heat and desire, grew denser when her soft little moans increased in volume. They spurred him on, urging him to roll his hips faster, and when his fingers made their way down to where their bodies were joined, he felt her thighs begin to tremble.

"Adam…" It was a whimper, a growl, and a moan combined, and was repeated as his fingers began to circle her clit. She gasped, needy, and her pussy clenched tightly as her hands caught his biceps. He stroked, leaning forward, keeping his touch light until he felt her flood around his cock.

"Fuck," he moaned, watching a rosiness wash over her body. It started in her cheeks then swept down her neck, across her chest, at which point her back arched and she went taut. A short scream ripped from her throat and his hands scrabbled to her hips.

He was focused on pleasing her but was driven by his own pleasure. Digging his fingers tighter into her hips, he held her still as his thrusts grew frantic, arms beginning to shake and stomach beginning to tumble. Pinpricks of exhilaration began to break through. He tried to hold it off, to delay it, but she trembled, pussy tightening, sucking him deeper. Holding onto her as his body strained. His strangled gasp was drowned out by her shriek and his pulse pounding in his ears and he nearly fell forward when every muscle weakened, just managing to catch himself before he landed atop her.

Serena's grip eased, and in the weak, dizzy moments he felt her palms sweep over his shoulders. Her fingers slid into his hair and smoothed it back, then tugged gently, guiding his head down for a kiss. Drained, he settled over her and sank into the kiss, humming as her hands caressed down his back.

He broke the kiss with a sigh, lifting his head to look into her eyes. He tried to think of something profound, to sum up his feelings for her but was too drunk with delight. Could only manage a small smile while his hand slipped to brush perspiration from her cheek.

"That was amazing," she whispered, tongue darting over her lips. Her hands danced upward, still caressing, and settled on his shoulders once more.

"It was," he agreed, giving her another quick kiss before forcing his body to lift off hers. Hissing as his cock slid from her, he flopped onto his back and struggled to ease his short, uneven breathing. "…Fuck."

She laughed, a sultry sound that sent another ripple of delight through his body. The mattress shifted and Adam lifted his head slightly to see her sliding off the bed. He looked on while she wriggled out of her skirt and bra and glanced down to see his jeans were still bunched at his thighs. With a groan he let his head drop, telling himself he would get out of his boots and jeans in a minute, and listened to her move around the room.

Every sound seemed magnified. The light was too bright. Each breath burned his lungs and, long after she stepped into the bathroom and he heard the water running, he still lay in the same spot, growing chilled. Groaning, he forced himself to sit upright, leaning to pull off his boots. Each move took too long and as soon as his boots hit the floor he fell back with another groan.

"Did you want a shower?" Serena asked from the bathroom doorway.

He needed one, sticky with sweat as he was. But the thought of having to move was unwelcome. "In a minute."

"I'm going to go ahead and get in," she said. She sounded energetic. Invigorated.

Adam wondered if part of his lifeforce had somehow transferred from his body into hers. "Okay," he murmured. He would just lay there for a few minutes. His breathing was almost back to normal, and his body didn't feel as weak, but he had no urge to move. "I'm coming."

Silence. It stretched out and, when he didn't hear the water start, he pushed himself up on one elbow to glance towards the bathroom.

She was standing in the doorway. Cheeks still flushed, skin glowing, eyes shining, she somehow looked more beautiful than before. Her lips curved into a smile. "You okay, Cowboy?"

"A little worn out," he admitted, grinning.

"So you don't want to shower?"

"I do." But he didn't move.

She laughed again. "I'm going to rinse off."

"I'll be there in a minute," he promised.

"Sure, sure," she called over her shoulder.

Dragging a hand over his face, he forced himself upright a few moments later. He could hear her singing softly and, catching the tune, shook his head as he got to his feet. His belt buckle was digging into his thigh and he peeled his jeans down with a hiss, kicking them away. Stretching, he felt the burn from her nails in his back and smiled while heading into the bathroom.

"The Judds?" he asked, stepping into the shower.

She grinned up at him. "He beats all I've ever seen. Mama, he's crazy, but he's crazy over me…"

"Have you told your parents about us?" he asked after she rinsed the shampoo from her hair.

"Mom guessed. She said she had a feeling we were more than friends when she talked to you while you stayed with me." Serena shrugged and picked up another bottle.

"They ok with it?"

"Why wouldn't they be?"

The shower filled with the scent of coconut as she squeezed conditioner into her palm. Adam watched her work it through her hair, then reached for the shampoo. "I don't know. They don't know me."

"It's not like I never talked about you before." She maneuvered around so he could get to the water. "Mom stalks my social media so she asked who the hell you were as soon as she saw you in my pictures."

"Did you tell her?" He wondered how that would go over.

"Are you insane?" she scoffed. "I told her we were just friends. And, well, after a couple weeks ago… She asked about you and I told her we were trying it out."

"Is that what we're doing?"

"Cowboy," she sighed, taking the bottle from his hand. "You know it's more than that. You know I'm crazy about you. I'm your girl, remember?"

He smiled at that and felt some of the nerves leave him. "Yeah, you are."

"Stop stressing about my parents. They're already half in love with you because you stayed to take care of me. Mom has a soft spot for southern boys, so I'm sure you'll completely win her over whenever she meets you."

"Meet?" he repeated, blinking.

"They're coming to Florida in a month for a visit. They would have been here tonight but Dad has some big thing tomorrow."

"Are you upset they didn't come?" he asked softly, dipping his head back to rinse the shampoo from his hair.

"No. They were at my first TV taping and to me that was more important." She handed over the conditioner, a smile pulling at her lips. "Besides, you were there."

But he wasn't her parents. He thought back to all the times his own parents, who weren't keen on travel but did it anyway to see him at big moments in his career. "I'm glad I was, Dimples."

"Me too."

"And…" He sighed, not wanting to lower the mood of the moment. But his aching knuckles were a grim reminder of what he'd done earlier. "I'm sorry about what happened at the bar."

"Are you?"

He grunted. "Okay, no, I'm not. I'm sorry it upset you."

"It didn't…" She sighed while they danced around so she could rinse her hair. She signed again when he reached to help her, letting his fingers lightly massage her scalp. "I appreciate what you did, Adam. I do. But I have to work with him. And, well, you had me scared when we left."

His fingers stilled. "Did you think I'd hurt you? I'd never—"

"I know you wouldn't," she promised, wiping water from her face. "I didn't think that, I swear. I was scared because you wouldn't talk to me. You were – I've never seen you like that, and I didn't know what to do."

He nodded, breathing in the aroma of coconut. "I was pissed. At him, for hurting you. At fucking Keith for not letting me hit him again. At myself, because I knew I shouldn't have done it."

"I'm glad you did," she announced after a moment.

"Really?"

"He's an asshole, he deserves to have his nose broken." Her lips twisted and he realized she was trying not to smile. "Do you think you really broke it?"

Adam sighed and thought back. A brief, confused look, followed by a cold sneer. Eyes widening as his fist swung out. The satisfying crunch as pain jarred through his hand, then the gush of blood. "I think I did."

Her lips tightened. The smile won out, and her dimple appeared, and her laugh echoed around them. "I love you, you know that?"

"Had a feeling you might," he admitted with a grin. "I love you too."

"Yeah?" she whispered.

"You could say I'm crazy."

"Oh, you're definitely crazy."

"But I'm crazy over you."

She laughed again and this time he joined in, reaching to pull her to him. Their laughter was stopped by their kiss, and as he lost himself in her, he forgot about everything else.

***

Serena had grown accustomed to Adam lying with her during those nights when he'd stayed with her. She had gotten used to feeling warm and secure in his arms. So when she awoke to the feel of him curled around her, knees tucked behind hers, chest to her back, one arm wrapped around her middle and the other under her neck, she hummed with pleasure. Two weeks of not sharing a bed with him had been lonely.

Whining when the arm around her began to move, she slowly opened her eyes to see him reaching for her phone, which she only just noticed was buzzing and screeching. He scooped it up and silenced it, then tossed it onto the bed with a grumbling moan, burying his face in her hair. She echoed it because she had to move. She had to leave his arms and leave the warmth and comfort of the bed to get ready for her day.

"Don't go," he mumbled.

"I have phone interviews," she sighed. She had to get up. She had to run down to the vending machine for a cold soda to wake her up. She had to wash her face and brush her hair so she would feel a little bit ready to talk about her big win, which now seemed like some ethereal dream that she had imagined. But no, it hadn't been a dream. Glancing to the dresser, she saw the belt gleaming in the early morning light coming through the window.

"Ugh," he grunted, squeezing her close. "When?"

"The first one's in about ten minutes." She patted his arm. "You can go back to sleep."

"Doubt it," he murmured. He dropped a kiss to her bare shoulder. "But I'll try."

She had a feeling he wouldn't try very hard. Turning her head, she gave him a quick kiss before reluctantly slipping out of the bed. She felt sore and for the first time in almost a year, she wasn't sure if it was from her match or sex. Her hips and thighs ached and when she bent to get clothes from her suitcase she saw the faint bruises on her skin.

The sight made her smile. She'd never had sex bruises before.

After dressing, washing her face, and dragging her hair into a ponytail, she made the quick trip down to the vending machine then back to the room. Seeing Adam sitting up in bed, squinting at his phone, she shook her head and placed the soda she'd bought him in his lap. She had just taken a large sip of hers when her phone chimed to remind her of the interview time.

"Want me to leave?" he asked while she sat at the head of the bed and got settled.

"I'm not leaking company secrets," she said with a roll of her eyes. Pulling her feet under her, she tucked an earbud into her ear and replied to the production assistant's reminder of the interview. Seeing that the second one had been canceled at the last minute she let out of a breath of relief and took another sip of her soda before calling the radio station.

Adam began to chuckle as soon as she was put on hold to wait for the start. Without a word, he leaned to show her his phone screen. She saw he was on Twitter, then groaned when she read the tweet he had pulled up.

"Great," she sighed, reading the words again. Post TakeOver Brawl: Video of NXT Superstar after fight with AEW wrestler… "There's a video?"

"Just of him after we walked away," Adam murmured, no longer chuckling. "You want to see?"

"Not now." She hoped that wouldn't be brought up during what was supposed to be a short interview. "What are they saying?"

"That me and him got into it and I broke his nose." He sighed, and when she looked at him his expression was apologetic.

"Hunter's gonna ask questions," she whispered.

"You want me to talk to him?" His hand slid over hers and squeezed.

"No, I'll talk to him," she decided. And, hearing the sweet voice of the woman who'd placed her on hold telling her they would be starting in a minute, she smiled and said she couldn't wait.

She hoped she didn't sound distracted or worried while speaking to the radio deejays. But Adam had shifted over, and his phone was in view, and she could see him scrolling through Twitter. Her eyesight first thing in the morning wasn't the greatest, but she could see well enough to know that people were talking about his punching Shane the night before.

"You've accomplished so much in the few months you've been with NXT. What's your next goal?"

"To have a long, amazing reign as champion," she stated, grateful when Adam closed Twitter. "But I try not to look too far into the future. I know that there's gonna be a target on my back because I'm the champ, but for the moment I'm just basking in the glow of my win."

"Did you party all night?"

She guessed she had, in her own way. But Hunter – and Vince – would kill her if she told them how she'd celebrated. "I'm not really the partying type. I had a couple drinks with friends and ended the night early because I knew I had to rise and shine to talk to you guys."

Mentally praying they wouldn't bring up what had happened at the bar, she silently let out her breath as the conversation moved to the match. It was easier to talk about, and she enjoyed being able to divulge how her entrance had come to be, making sure to mention the guitarist by name. Watching Adam stretch out, she smiled as his head rested on her thigh and absently began to toy with his hair.

"Are we allowed to talk about what happened right after the match? I was looking and there have been rumors for a while now about you and someone from another company."

"Oh jeez," she chuckled, hand sliding to Adam's shoulder and nudging. When he looked up at her she mouthed the question. His brow furrowed and she mouthed it again. He blinked, a question in his eyes, and she nodded.

"Is that a yes, a no, or a no comment?" the deejay asked.

Adam grinned, gave a nod, and caught her hand in his.

"That would be a yes," she said, smiling as their fingers twined.

He brought her hand up to his mouth and lightly kissed her knuckles. Then, as she answered more questions, he turned and placed soft kisses to her knee. Eyes widening when he sat up, she bit her lip to keep from sighing when his lips brushed hers. She answered the final question just as his mouth trailed down the side of her neck, somehow managing to rattle off her thanks and goodbyes without moaning. Making sure to disconnect the call, she yanked the earbud from her ear and slung it aside.

"What the hell," she muttered.

"I can't kiss my girl?" he whispered.

His girl. She shivered and sighed and reached for him. She loved being his girl. "You were distracting me."

"You love it," he taunted with a knowing smirk. His lips brushed hers then he pulled back. "You don't have anything else to do, do you? An interview or anything that's gonna take you out of here anytime soon?"

"I have to pack," she pointed out, as though he didn't know all of her stuff was scattered throughout the room. She was a messy person, something she knew was a pet peeve of his. She had a tendency to leave clothes where they dropped when she took them off and had seen him straightening up while she got ready for them to go to the bar. Hell, he'd cleaned her apartment while she was injured, and had gotten it cleaner than she'd ever managed. She supposed it was an extension of his nervous energy, but he was an all-around neat person, aside from the hair ties and random bits that he fiddled with that he left lying around.

"You ain't gotta check out 'til noon," he reminded, moving over so he knelt in front of her.

"Mm, true," she relented, stretching out her legs and reaching for the hem of her shirt. Pulling it over her head, she tossed it aside, squealing when he caught her ankles and tugged until she was lying down. Her hips lifted as his fingers danced up to her waist, and she enjoyed the way he looked down at her while peeling off her shorts.

Admiration. Desire.

She felt beautiful under his stare, and beneath his hands. Felt almost gorgeous when his lips were on her skin.

Hands in his hair, his name spilling from her mouth, she felt cherished. Legs twined, his moans in her ear, she felt desired.

Though she had enjoyed the frantic, needy moments they'd spent before their shower the night before, she loved the slower pace. Loved dragging out her pleasure and his, loved discovering new places she could touch or kiss to have him gasping. Loved the tangle of limbs and sheets, his strong hands pulling her over him, his tongue dragging over his lips while he watched her. She liked that he didn't see the need in filling the air with constant talking, aside from the occasional whispered plea or panting of her name. She reveled in the way he filled her, how his fingers trailed over her flesh.

When her orgasm hit she screamed and Adam surged up, arms winding around her as his lips met hers in a feverish kiss. Moaning, gasping, he held onto her, and she could feel the pounding of his heart.

She slid her hands into his hair and tugged, hips stuttering when his lips moved to her ear. His whispered words caused her to moan, then his hips began to move. She could feel his desperation, his longing, and wrapped her arms around his neck, weakened by her orgasm. And whispered the two words that she had learned while they were in the shower drove him over the edge. "…Good boy…"

"Fuck," he whined, arms locking around her. He buried his face in her neck, hips lifting off the bed. She felt the tension rip through him, heard his strangled shout as he throbbed inside. Pushing down, she enjoyed the sensation of him straining, of him filling her, of his cum leaving a flood of heat. When he began to sink back down, she followed, caught in another kiss as he trembled.

Sprawled over him, his fingers running through her hair, she listened to his heartbeat normalize, felt him relax as they lay quietly for a long stretch of time. She felt sated and sleepy and, although she knew she should move, found herself reluctant to do so. Moving would mean parting from him, and she now remembered that when they left the hotel, they would be going different ways. He to his home in North Carolina to get ready to fly out to be at Wednesday's show. She to Florida because she was due at the Performance Center the next day.

She didn't like being reminded they would be apart for a while. Even if it was just a week it would be torture. Especially now they'd taken that next step.

"Dimples?" Adam murmured.

She tilted her head back. Saw the frown in his eyes. "Hmm?"

"You got sad on me." His fingers swept over her jaw.

"Not sad. Just…" She sighed. "Okay, maybe a little sad."

"Why?"

"I'm gonna miss you."

"I know." His eyes softened. "Gonna miss you, too."

"Ugh, have we turned into that couple?" she asked. "The one that can't enjoy their time together because they're too busy worrying about when they'll be apart?"

"Just don't start quoting sad songs on Twitter," he requested.

"I'll post quotes about being excited instead." She smiled.

"I can come to Florida to see you Thursday," he offered after a moment. "Or you can come up to Asheville?"

"I'll have to check the schedule, but yes, please," she whispered.

"Yes to which one?"

"Either. I just wanna see you." Serena watched his hand sweep down her arm. He pressed his palm to hers and she smiled as their fingers spread then weaved, thumbs hooking tightly. She squeezed, received a squeeze in return, and pushed thoughts of having to say goodbye away. "Love you."

"Love you too, baby."

***

"I can't believe you punched him."

Adam huffed with annoyance and sat at the desk. "Hello to you, too."

"You broke his nose," Matt pointed out.

"Just a little," he admitted, regretting that he'd agreed to the video chat with Matt, Nick, and Kenny. He'd already talked to Tony. He'd even typed up an apology that actually sounded sincere and had forwarded it to Tony's assistant to be sent to Hunter.

"Did he get you?" Kenny asked. At least, Adam assumed it was Kenny, considering all he could see on his friend's portion of the screen was the man's enormous cat. But unless Kenny had tapped into some mythical source – and if anyone could do that, it was Kenny – the cat wasn't able to talk.

"No."

"What did he do?" Nick asked.

"Stood there whining about his nose," Adam said, fingers beginning to toy with the spare charge cable on his desk.

"No, no, what did he do to make you punch him?"

He sighed and began to wind the cord. "To me?"

"Who else—" Matt sighed. "Did he do something to Serena?"

"There wasn't anything in the sheets about her being involved." Nick rubbed his chin. "Only that she was there and left with you."

"Yeah, she was there," Adam confirmed, winding the cord tighter. Then, not wanting to have to buy a new one, he pushed it away. Spying the beer cap lying next to the keyboard, he plucked it up and sighed. "And she left with me."

"Was she in it?" Kenny's cat moved and Adam saw his look of concern.

"Not exactly," he hedged. Seeing the looks of confusion flash across their faces one after the other, he groaned. "They used to go out."

"Really? Him?" Matt asked with a snort.

"Did he say something?"

"What did he do?"

Adam dragged a hand over his face. It had been easier to tell this to Tony. Mainly because he'd only had to give vague details and then apologize and offer to pay for the asshole's medical bills. "Guys…"

"Just tell us," Kenny said gently.

"He kind of broke her," he said, twirling the cap between his fingers. "I mean, he broke her spirit."

"Oh no." Matt's annoyance fled, and he looked sympathetic. "How bad?"

"I don't know. Cole said she was a wreck. And… Well, he stopped at the table and said hi to us, and she acted like she would have jumped into a volcano to get away from him." Adam hated to remember how she'd been. Curled inward, shrinking, looking down. Obviously trying to make herself as small as possible in the hopes he wouldn't see her and she could avoid the insult of his look. He clutched the bottle cap tighter. "And I fucking snapped."

"And all you did was break his nose?" Kenny asked.

"Yeah."

"I would've murdered him."

"Kenny!"

"Jesus…"

"What? He's obviously an asshole. And he hurt Heart Eyes." Kenny held up both hands and shrugged. "He doesn't deserve to breathe."

Adam smiled. And, seeing Kenny's small smile in return, he chuckled. "Thanks, Kenny."

"You know this could blow up. Especially if he makes a big fuss about this?" Matt stressed.

"He ain't said shit, Tony told me."

"Probably doesn't want it getting out that he deserved it," Kenny said. "How's she doing?"

"Serena?" Adam couldn't help the fresh smile that pulled at his lips. "She's great."

Kenny's smile was genuine. Not the sometimes tense one he put in place when he didn't want to be put on the spot, or the sly, subversive one he used when he was about to unleash his dark humor.

"I haven't talked to her since this morning. She's supposed to be meeting with Hunter right now." He glanced at his phone as though by sheer force of will, he could make her call or text. "But she was good this morning."

Kenny nodded. "Good. I'm happy for you, Adam."

"I can't believe you're happy that he started a brawl in a bar," Matt complained.

"It wasn't a brawl," Adam defended. "Just a quick right hook."

Kenny chuckled. Nick snorted on a laugh, shaking his head. And Matt groaned, but his lips began to twitch.

"You gonna suspend me?" Adam asked when neither man said anything.

"For defending your girl? Fuck no," Kenny decided.

"Yeah, I'm with Kenny. It wasn't a fight, Tony's okay with the apology." Nick shrugged. "Besides, we'd have all done the same, right?"

"Majority wins!" Kenny grinned. "Meeting over?"

"Doesn't Cody get a vote?" Matt asked.

"He already told me he didn't blame me," Adam said with a sigh. Should have kicked him in the nuts, too had been Cody's exact wording, but he didn't need to tell them that.

"You weren't gonna say you wanted to suspend him, were you?" Nick asked, frowning.

"No!"

"Then you need to officially say—"

"I vote no suspension," Matt ground out. "Happy?"

"Oh I'm over the moon," Adam promised.

"I can tell." Matt smiled. "She's really special to you, isn't she?"

"I love her." It was the first time he'd said that to anyone but her. It felt strange, considering he'd only just started telling her in the past twenty-four hours. But at the same time, it felt natural. As though his mouth and tongue had kept the words in reserve for the right moment.

"That's really sweet." Nick smiled. "You two are great together."

"Yeah?" Adam grinned.

"She brings out the good in you, Hangy." Nick was still smiling. "The good has always been there, but she just makes it shine."

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Matt moaned.

"Why are you so against expressing feelings?" Kenny asked, leaning close to the camera. "Who hurt you, Matt?"

"I'm not hurt—"

"You want us to go break their nose?" Nick was deadpan.

"There's no—"

"Are you so jealous that Adam's found love that you're going to be a dick about it?" Kenny rubbed his fingers over his lips. "Really, Matt?"

"No! I'm not jealous—"

"You're acting jealous. Why?" This from Nick, obviously enjoying that Matt was the one being bitched at.

"I'm not!"

As they continued to bicker, Adam glanced to his phone. "Hey, I gotta go, I'm getting a call," he announced, even though his phone was completely devoid of notifications. "See you later, okay?"

"…you fucking asshole – Tell Heart Eyes I said hello!" Kenny called.

"I will," he promised with a grin, reaching to end the chat. Sitting back in his chair with a heavy sigh, he reached for his phone. It began to vibrate as soon as he touched it and he smiled when he saw Serena was calling. Setting the bottle cap down, he accepted the call. "Hey, Dimples, I was just thinking about you."

"You busy?" she asked.

"Nah, I just finished getting reamed." He paused. "You?"

"Riot act until I started to cry, then the fatherly gruffness and reassurances that everything would be okay."

"I'm sorry, Dimples."

"It's not your fault. Well." She sighed. "I guess in a way, yeah, it is. But it's not. Not really. Y'know?"

"I know," he murmured. "Before I forget, Kenny says hello."

"I love him."

Adam grunted. "You do, huh?"

"He brought you to me when I was hurt and kept you from going crazy. Plus he calls me Heart Eyes. He's adorable and yes, I love him."

"I'll be sure and tell him that."

"Please do."

"So what happened? Did Hunter ban me or anything?"

"They didn't say. And I didn't ask, because, well, I know Hunter's already annoyed that I kissed you on camera." She huffed with annoyance. "Which is stupid."

"Him being annoyed or the—"

"Him being annoyed," she cut in. "None of your kisses could ever be stupid."

He grinned. "You still at the Performance Center?"

"Yeah, sitting outside for a few minutes. They're talking to him right now."

"Did you tell Hunter what he did?"

"A little. I didn't get into how he…" She sighed again. "I don't like thinking about it."

"How he what?" Adam frowned. He'd done more? "What the fuck else did he do?"

"Adam…"

"Sorry," he muttered. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he inhaled deeply and let it out in a rush. "You can tell me, you know that, right?"

"He sweet-talked me. Told me he liked bigger women. Would say all these things he wanted to do with me. And I finally caved. I let him fuck me, okay?" Her voice was soft with a hard line of strain through it. "And as soon as it was over he laughed at me."

"Son of a bitch," Adam hissed.

"He said he did me on a dare," she murmured.

"He laughed at you? That piece of shit? He ain't fit to lick your feet." Adam gripped his phone tighter and felt his leg start to bounce. "Cody was right, I should have kicked him in the nuts."

She gave a little laugh. "What did I do to deserve you?"

He felt the anger start to wither. "You were just you, Dimples. Beautiful and sweet and funny and amazing."

"No, that's you."

"No, you."

Her laugh was a ripple of sunshine. "Oh, I'm free Thursday if you want to come down. Or I can come up there? I can catch a flight after the show Wednesday."

Adam grinned, already excited to see her again. It had been less than twenty-four hours but he ached to hold her close. "I've got to be in Florida over the weekend, so I'll come down a couple days early."

"I'll leave a light on for you," she promised.

"A light better be the only thing you have on."

"God, don't start with that now. I can't go back in all hot and bothered."

He sighed longingly. "Yes ma'am."

He could hear her smile. "Good boy."

"For you? Always," he promised, licking his lips.

"I gotta go. I'll call you later?"

"I'll be waiting."

"Love you."

"Love you too." He waited for her to disconnect, feeling the strange urge to laugh when she didn't. "Dimples…"

"I know, I know. I'm going."

But she stayed. And it struck him that she, like him, didn't want the conversation to end so soon. It scared him, realizing that she missed him. He wasn't used to being missed. He was always the one that did the yearning in relationships. Just as he did the longing for what could have been, what should have been, long after a relationship had ended.

"I'll call you tonight." Her voice sounded firm, as though she'd made up her mind that she had to end the call.

"Okay. Hey," he called before she could disconnect. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

#adam page fanfiction #aew fanfiction #hangman adam page fanfiction #my fics #multipart:BITN #short chapter is short

[champhangman]

Bleed Into the Night

Title: Bleed Into the Night Part: Five / ? Characters: Hangman Adam Page x OFC Summary: She wasn’t looking. Neither was he. For a brief flash, they found each other. Word Count: 12,222 Warnings: Cursing? Vague medical things in regards to concussions and injuries. Previous: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | A/N: :)  

Tagging:  @adampage / @cowboyshit / @baysexuality / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy /  @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch / @allizoneme / @heelsamizayn / @what-does-mine-say / @waywardwrestlewritingwaif / @drewshoneybadger  / @mysteryoflovve / @knnyomega / @rampagewriting (I HOPE I got everyone)

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Part Five

Floating.

Falling.

She was doing both. Spinning and watching the ground get closer and closer. Each time she came within an inch of landing, though, the ground disappeared and she began to fall all over again. But after every restart the ground was closer.

Until, suddenly, she slammed into it.

Serena jerked, whimpering as pain rocked through her body. Her head felt as though it were on fire and being squeezed. She tried to reach up, to check it, but her hand wouldn't move. Gasping, she opened her eyes. Tried to turn away from the blinding light.

"Serena?"

She knew that voice. She tried to turn to it, but it was too far away. "Shawn?"

"You're okay, sweetie."

"Light," she croaked, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Hold on." The grip on her hand released. "Don't go back to sleep, honey."

Methodic beeping. She could feel her pulse in her scalp. Could smell antiseptic. The back of her hand was cold, as though someone had placed an ice cube against her skin. "Shawn?"

"I'm right here. The light's off."

The grip returned to her hand. Gentler this time. "Where am I?"

"The hospital. I rang for the nurse, she'll be here to check on you. How you feel?"

She opened her eyes slowly. It was still too bright. And too blurry. But a different blurry from when she didn't have her contacts in. "What?"

"It's okay, Serena…"

Floating. Voices. That steady beeping. Head pounding. The beeping stopped. She heard whispers as she fell to the ground and attempted to call out to them for help but all that came out was a rush of breath as her body landed with a thud.

Shawn again. Her vision cleared enough for her to recognize him standing by her. His raspy voice saying something she couldn't understand above the banging in her head.

Floating.

Slamming.

She jerked, gasping, at the sound of a different voice. She could only make out the tone. Anguish. Other voices, more hushed. Why was he so distressed? Was he upset with her? She had to know. Pushing at the weight lying over her, she frowned when she felt a tug at her hand. She shifted, whining as the movement sent a wave of pain crashing through her head. Blinded with the throbbing, she grabbed at the wire taped to her hand and cried out. Why couldn't she move? Why couldn't she get to him?

A shrieking alarm. Footsteps. An unfamiliar voice, with an unfamiliar face. Gentle hands urging her to lie back. Gloved fingers messing with her hand.

"Is she okay?"

His voice. Clearer now. He was closer. He still sounded so hurt. She frowned. She didn't like him being hurt. "Adam?"

"Serena." It was a gasp. A rush.

Nothing smelled right. She breathed in, tried to catch him. But she couldn't, not until she felt his warm hand on her arm. Then she found his scent. The Pantene shampoo and his deodorant. She moved her eyes over and there he was.

"Serena," he whispered.

She watched him drop down at her bedside. His forehead was creased, his lips turned down into a frown. And his eyes filled with torment. "Adam?"

"You're gonna be okay," he said. Voice as soothing as his hand. "It's okay, baby. It's okay."

Baby? "What are you doing here?"

"Because you are."

"Heart Eyes?" A gentler voice. She recognized it but couldn't look away from Adam. Couldn't stop worrying over the pain in his expression.

"You brought the angel man," she whispered.

Adam's chuckle sounded strangled, like it had caught in his throat. But he still looked sad. She didn't like a sad looking Adam, she decided. He was too beautiful to be sad. Too nice. Too sweet. She lifted her hand, frowning at the tug.

"Hold on." That gentle voice again. Serena hissed as she turned her head to see his face. Kenny leaned to untangle the thin tube, and his smile was one of relief. "How you feeling?"

"Like shit," she whispered.

He patted her arm then backed away. With another hiss, she moved to look at Adam again. Finally able to lift her hand, she brought it to his cheek.

"Hey," she whispered. Talking louder made her head hurt worse. It already felt like elephants were taking turns stepping on it.

"Hey," he whispered back.

There were tears in his eyes. For her? Why was he even there? She frowned. "Did you come all this way because I wouldn't answer your calls?"

"No," he promised, lips twisting into almost a smile. "I came because…"

She felt sleepy and tried to fight it. Tried to keep her hand on his cheek but it was already falling. He caught it between his, and she felt his lips against her knuckles.

And began floating again.

***

"Adam."

He looked up, wincing at the ache in his neck from being bent so awkwardly at Serena's bedside. "Yeah?"

Kenny frowned. "Let's go take a walk, okay? While they examine her."

It was then that Adam saw the other people in the room. He released Serena's hand with care, making sure to uncurl her fingers before pushing himself to his feet. "Sorry," he whispered, shuffling to one side so the doctors and nurses could get to the bed. He stood, looking on, feeling helpless, until one of the nurses yanked the curtain closed. Feeling a hand on his arm, he jumped, looking to Kenny. He still felt helpless. Lost.

"Come on," Kenny said gently, guiding him from the room.

The brightness of the lights in the hallway caused him to squint. A low rumbling sound alerted him to an employee pushing a trash cart, and he nodded dumbly when the man jerked his head in greeting. After the man and the cart had gone, he looked at Kenny.

"You need to rest," his friend said as they began walking down the hallway.

"I'm okay."

"You're dead on your feet."

"I'm better than her," he pointed out, turning quickly when he heard a door open. Seeing one of the nurses come into the hallway, he held his breath, sighing when she plucked a couple of towels from the supply cart next to the door.

"She's gonna be okay. You can't—"

"I know. But I can't go. I can't leave her."

Kenny looked at him sadly. "I'm going to draw on years of knowing you, and letting my own exhaustion tell you something brutally honest."

"Okay?"

"I don't know what she's done to you to make you lose your shit like you have been for the past twenty-four hours, but for the love of all that's good in the world? Fucking tell her it's real to you as soon as she can understand what you're saying."

"I'm planning to," he muttered.

"No you're not, you're planning to just sit there and hold her hand and expect her to figure it out. I know you, Adam. You're not the type to open up unless someone's poking you with a knife."

"I open up to her," he whispered. He had. A little. And each day he was finding that she had chipped away just a tiny bit more at the wall he'd built around himself. "She understands me, Kenny."

"You understand her, too."

He nodded, steps slowing when he saw the glow of a vending machine. Before he could reach into his pocket, Kenny was approaching the machine and feeding money into the slot. Without a word, his friend bought him a soda and handed it over, then they continued their walk. Still silent, they stopped just outside Serena's room. The door was ajar, and Adam wondered what they had found out when they'd done their examination. He knew they wouldn't tell him, which meant he would have to wait until morning to know. It was the waiting that was killing him. The uncertainty. Not knowing for sure if she was really okay.

"You sure you don't want to go to a hotel and crash for a little bit?"

"I'm staying," Adam insisted.

"Okay, okay." Kenny's voice was calm, his expression understanding. "We'll stay, alright?"

"I can't just leave her here alone," he continued. "They won't check on her unless alarms start going off. What if she wakes up and tries to get out of bed? What if she starts pulling at her IVs? What if—"

"Adam," Kenny interrupted. "It's okay. We'll stay."

"You can go," he muttered, scrubbing at his eyes with his hand.

"I'm staying," his friend said softly.

"You don't gotta." He sighed, hating how anguished the sound was to his own ears, and glanced to the open door of Serena's room.

"You're staying to look after Heart Eyes," Kenny pointed out. "I'm staying to look after you."

"Why do you keep calling her that?" he asked, feeling guilty for the smile that tugged at his lips. He had no right to smile.

"Because whenever you talk about her or get off the phone with her, you are literally heart eyes." Kenny smiled. "Go on, check on her. I'll talk to the nurse and see about getting another chair for the room."

"Hey," Adam called softly, grabbing Kenny's sleeve. He needed to thank him. For keeping him from exploding in the locker room. For helping him pack his shit. For getting the Uber and keeping him calm on the long ride. For just being there. He groped inside his brain for the words of appreciation and gratefulness. But all he could manage was, "Thank you."

***

Serena could hear talking again. It was Adam's voice. Her entire body ached so she lay still as consciousness slowly claimed her. Opening her eyes, she saw him perched on the chair next to the bed, the lights on the IV machine casting an eerie glow on his cheek. Behind him, through the blinds, she could see it was still dark outside.

Her hand was cradled between his. She kept her eyes on his face, though, watching his lips move while he spoke in a low voice. As she focused on him she was able to finally catch the words.

"…need you to be okay. Not just for your wrestling. But because…" He sighed, fingers stroking hers tenderly. "You're my girl, Dimples. I know you don't want to be. I didn't want you to be. And if I tell you that, you might laugh in my face… But after last night I can't keep pretending it's not real. I can't pretend I don't want it to be real."

What the hell was he talking about? Wrestling being real? She couldn't understand. Maybe she needed to go back to sleep. Or was she still asleep? That was it, this was a dream. She wasn't in a hospital listening to Adam talk about wanting things to be real while Kenny sat in the corner sleeping. How bizarre. Why would Kenny even come to the hospital? He didn't even know her that well.

She sighed, closing her eyes, and tried to focus on dream-Adam's words.

"…Don't know where this is going… …Don't want to fuck it up… I fuck everything up, Dimples…"

"No," she croaked, frowning.

"Dimples?" he gasped.

"You don't fuck everything up," she promised, forcing her eyes open again. "Turn that frown upside down, Cowboy."

"Cowboy?" he repeated.

"You're my cowboy." She wanted to talk to him. To hear his voice. Even if it was just a dream. "Made it my ringtone and everything."

"What?" Adam chuckled. "What did you make your ringtone?"

"The cowboy song." She cursed her dream self for being unable to remember the name of it. She could hear it, for crying out loud. The gentle guitar. The strings. The lines about wanting to be the only one for miles and miles. Except for… "You, and your simple smile…"

"Cowboy Take Me Away?" he asked.

Oh, but his smile was beautiful. She wanted a picture of it. She wanted to see it everywhere. "That one." She brought her hand up, felt his bearded cheek. "You're really here."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else."

"You really are a good man, Cowboy," she sighed. "I'd be stupid not to really date you. I'd be even stupider not to fall."

"I don't want you to fall, Dimples."

"I like you call me that. Don't stop, even when I wake up, okay? It's cute. It's sweet and fucking makes my heart…" She frowned. "Why don't you want me to fall?"

"I can't have you getting hurt again." He caught her hand when it began to slip and she watched him watch their fingers twine.

"I'm already falling. It doesn't hurt." She felt a sudden wave of giddiness and even though it hurt, managed a laugh. "It feels really good. You should try it. I know you don't want to, though."

"You're not falling."

"Sure I am. Falling for you." She smiled at him, though she knew it wasn't half as pretty as his smile. Then a wave of exhaustion swept over her and she yawned. "Wish I could really tell you that…"

***

Adam watched her eyes drift shut and released a soft sigh. Reaching over, he carefully smoothed the hair from her face while her grip on his hand eased. "I wish you could, too," he whispered. "I hope you can…"

"She okay?" Kenny asked softly.

He pulled his gaze from her and looked to his friend, who was still slumped in the chair. "Yeah. Still a little loopy, though."

"You're her cowboy."

"Not really," he murmured.

"What happened last night?" Kenny asked after a few moments.

Inhaling deeply, he held it in before letting the air out slowly. "She, uh…" He cleared his throat. Reached for the soda Kenny had bought him earlier. It was no longer cold, but it was wet, and gulping down the rest gave him the time to think up an answer that would be vague yet satisfying. "She called me. And, um, she didn't know she was calling me."

"Butt-dial?"

"Something like that."

Kenny frowned. "She wasn't with someone else, was she?"

"No, no, god no," Adam said quickly. Feeling his cheeks start to burn, he was grateful the from was somewhat dark. "She was definitely alone."

There was a long silence. After ripping the label from the bottle and crumpling it into a tight ball, he finally looked over to Kenny to see him rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

He pushed the label into the bottle and tightened the cap, knee bouncing erratically as Kenny continued to be silent.

"I see," his friend finally said.

Adam blinked. "You do?"

"I do."

And that, he realized, was enough for Kenny. He didn't need to go into the details. Didn't need to tell him what he'd heard and done.

Kenny stretched out his legs and slumped down further in his seat. "Wake me if you need me."

"I will." It was enough that he was there. Just his being in the room, even if he was asleep, kept Adam from freaking out. He watched until Kenny's face relaxed with sleep, then turned his attention back to Serena, carefully slipping her hand between his.

Time passed in miniscule increments. He alternated between watching her face and watching the bag of fluid being pumped into her body. He watched the numbers on the screen as her blood pressure was taken. Unable to remember what a good set of numbers were, he asked the nurse that came in to replace the IV bag. Then fretted each time the numbers were higher or lower.

Each time she came to, he felt a rush of relief.

Each time she drifted off, he felt a sense of dread.

But, when she was awake, her words were clearer. She was able to tell him how she felt. That her head felt as though it had been caught in a vice. That she ached all over. Even the smallest bit of light made her wince. And even though her head hurt, she wanted to talk to him. To ask him what had happened to her. He explained as best he could until she drifted off again.

His hand went to sleep but he couldn't bring himself to let go. The pressure of her fingers was his first indication that she was waking back up, and while she was awake, she tightened her hold as though his hand kept her from growing anxious.

The sky was just beginning to brighten when the nurse and a doctor came in to check her over. She awoke easily when they spoke to her, and Adam listened, knee bouncing fretfully, while she said that she couldn't remember what had happened. She couldn't remember going out for her match. The last thing she remembered was talking to him on the phone.

"I'd been avoiding him all day," she went on, and Adam felt her thumb hook tightly around his. "Because I called him last night… Night before? I had called him the night before by accident and he heard me—"

"Dimples," he whispered, ducking his head so the nurse and doctor wouldn't see his reddening cheeks.

"Oh. Sorry," she murmured, looking at him with wide eyes before turning to look at the doctor. "You don't need to know that, huh? Anyway, that's all I remember. And it's just bits and pieces of being here."

Adam reluctantly let go of her hand and moved away so they could examine her, grateful the curtain wasn't snatched closed. Leaning against the wall next to Kenny, who seemed surprisingly wide-awake after napping all night, he looked on while her vision was checked. Looked away when the nurse began to remove the IV. Held his breath as she was asked to sit up and move to the edge of the bed so they could check her reflexes. He exhaled when Kenny placed a hand on his arm, then held his breath again when the doctor asked Serena to stand.

She was a little unsteady, but the nurse supported her, then helped her walk to the bathroom and back to the bed. No, she wasn't nauseated, she just felt a little dizzy. And hungry. That made him smile. And, when the doctor began listing off instructions for when she got home later in the morning, he continued to smile.

His smile faltered when the doctor turned to him.

"Will you be staying with her while she recovers?"

"Of course," he answered, ignoring Serena's look of surprise.

"We'll get a packet of instructions and things to look for," the doctor said, slipping a card from her pocket and handing it over. "If you have any questions, please call or text me, Mr.…?"

"Page." He looked down at the card, hoping he would remember her name in five minutes. "How long do you think it'll be? Her recovery, I mean."

"At least a week. We'll be seeing her again in a couple of days." She rattled off a few instructions, then softened his worry by promising everything he would need to know would be on the printouts. Then, turning to Serena, she said she could go home after breakfast, so they could make sure she didn't have any nausea.

After she left, there was a flurry of activity. It seemed every time Adam sat down someone new came into the room to check something, to ask something, or to see if Serena needed anything.

Her only request was clothes.

"I've got some clean sweats and a shirt you can wear," he offered.

Her smile showed her dimple and he knew she was going to be okay.

***

"I can't believe you sent Kenny to the store with a list," Serena groaned as she lay back against the mountain of pillows Adam had created for her. Smiling when he brought the sheet and blanket up over her legs, she shifted so she was more comfortable. "I have food here."

"Protein and antioxidants," Adam reminded her, smoothing the blanket before stepping back. "Plus he's big on clean eating so he'll get you the best stuff."

"I just want coffee," she mourned.

"I know, but you don't need it right now." He gathered his hair into a bun and secured it. "I'll go get you some water?"

"Can I have something sweet?" she requested. "I bought all that fruit the other day…"

"I can make you a smoothie," he offered.

"That would be great." She reached to tap his arm before he could leave the room. "Hey… Thank you."

"No problem." He leaned over. His lips were cool against her forehead as he pressed the softest kiss to her skin. "Get some rest."

"Not tired," she murmured, even as exhaustion suddenly kicked in. "Can you hand me the remote?"

"No TV. No phone. Rest."

"Can I read a book?"

"Maybe later."

"Thanks, Dad," she muttered.

He chuckled and moved to the windows to close the blinds and curtains. She half-watched, marveling that he was actually inside her apartment, as he moved around the room, brow furrowing when she saw that he was gathering the clothes she'd left lying around.

"What are you doing?"

"Just straightening up."

"You don't have to." A yawn slipped out, and she reached to pull the covers up further. Her head was starting to hurt again. For a little while, after she'd eaten, the pain had eased to an almost-bearable ache. And when she had been wheeled outside to get into the Uber and had breathed in fresh air it had eased a little bit more.

Settling back, she thought of telling him how much she appreciated his being there. How much she had liked waking up and seeing him by her side all night long. But when she opened her mouth the only thing that came out was another yawn, and she sensed she was about to fall asleep when his shadow slipped out of the room.

***

Adam took the empty bowl from Serena's hands and reached to switch off the lamp.

"Don't go," she whispered.

"I ain't leaving," he promised. "Just going to put these away."

"Mm." It was a sleepy sound, and he heard her sigh as he left the room. He moved as quietly as possible, knowing without her telling him that her head was aching. She tried to put up a brave front, but her little winces each time he turned on the light and every time she sat up made it obvious she was in pain. He had finally talked her into taking some Tylenol before she ate some ice cream, and hoped it would at least ease her pains enough for her to get some sleep.

Good sleep, not the drifting in-and-out she'd been doing since her fall.

Her fall. He muttered a curse while washing the bowls and spoons. He'd forgotten to check her staples. She wouldn't be able to wash her hair until the next day, but he had been told to clean the area gently and watch for signs of infection. He had hated cleaning the site, the cloth turning rusty with the dried blood. He'd hated hearing her little gasps of pain, because he loathed hurting her even a tiny bit. Had despised seeing the neat row of metal lines in her scalp.

Drying his hands on a towel, he sighed and debated whether he should just wait until morning. The debate ended in a split second and he tossed the towel on the counter, switching out the light and making his way to the bedroom. He just had to take a peek, he wouldn't have to wake her up to clean it or slather more Vaseline on it. Tiptoeing, because he wasn't used to the layout of her room, he felt his way to the bed, hissing when his toe banged into the nightstand.

"Fuck," he gasped.

"Adam?"

"Fuck," he said again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake—"

"I wasn't asleep. What's wrong."

"Just hit my stupid toe." He wriggled his toes. "Alright if I turn on the light?"

"Yeah."

When he turned it on, she was sitting up. He frowned. "Dimples…"

"I'm okay. I can't go to sleep."

"You—"

"I'm not sick or dizzy or anything. My head doesn't hurt as much. I think it was the chocolate in the ice cream." She carefully moved her hair behind her shoulders. "How's your toe?"

"Still stupid." He sat on the edge of the bed. "Let me check your staples, okay?"

She made a noncommittal sound but laid back and shifted onto her side. "Do you think you can put my hair up? All I can smell is the hospital."

"Sure." Adam gently parted her hair and leaned close to squint at the row of staples. It all looked as it had when he'd cleaned it. Blinking in hopes of getting rid of the gritty feeling in his eyes, he plucked one of the hair ties from the nightstand and did his best to fashion a loose bun above the staples. Her hair didn't smell like the hospital to him. The locks still held the scent of cocoa and coconut. Sitting back, he rubbed the heel of his palms against his eyes. "You gonna be okay if I go shower? Is it okay if I take a shower? I'm grimy as hell."

She turned to face him, her brow slightly furrowed. "Adam… Of course it's okay."

"Just wanted to be sure."

"Use this bathroom," she said, waving to the open door leading to the master bathroom. "It has better water pressure. And I don't think the other bathroom has any towels, anyway."

"Okay. Try to get some sleep, Dimples."

"I will."

His suitcase was where he'd left it in the small space she called the hall. He dug out what he would need then pushed the suitcase into the little second bedroom, frowning as he gauged the difference between the bed inside and where she was. As exhausted as he was, he didn't think he'd hear her if she woke up and called to him. With a sigh, he hesitated in the doorway of her bedroom.

"You can sleep in here," she said softly. "I don't mind."

"You sure?"

"Positive. Otherwise you'll worry yourself to death over not being able to hear me. Or thinking I might get up to go pee and get dizzy." She gave him a look he couldn't decipher before glancing away. "And I think I'll rest better if you're closer."

He didn't know what to say to that. Didn't know how to take the words. Nodding, even though she couldn't see, he headed into the bathroom to take out his contacts and shower, pausing every few moments to listen. Just in case. He heard nothing, though, and hoped she had finally gone to sleep.

When he came out, though, she was sitting up against the headboard. Still awake.

"I can't sleep," she said in a tiny voice.

Sighing, he moved to the bed. "How come?"

"Every time I think I'm comfortable my head moves a little. Or the pillow sinks and makes my staples hurt." She was twisting her fingers, wringing them together in her lap. "And I keep worrying that if I go to sleep I'll jerk awake and hurt worse than I already do."

He wished they'd given her something stronger for the pain. Something strong enough to help her go to sleep. Though he understood why they hadn't and doubted she would have taken it willingly. He grabbed the pillows that weren't behind her and stacked them against the headboard before crawling in next to her. Once situated, he covered her jittery hands with his. "C'mere."

She moved slowly, as though unsure, and he could feel the anxious tension in her body as he guided her to lie on his chest. She shifted, curling close. And when her leg slid over his he tucked his arm around her.

"I won't sink," he murmured.

"Thank you." She was quiet for a moment, hand sliding to rest over his heartbeat. "…Adam?"

"Mm-hmm?" He needed to turn off the light. It would require moving, but it had to be done.

"Sing for me?"

He smiled. "You need a lullaby, huh?"

"Sing me something from The Chicks," she requested, and even though he couldn't see her face, he knew she was smiling. "Please."

"Well, since you said please…" He sighed and pulled his arm from her. Just long enough to stretch and turn off the lamp. He wrapped it around her as soon as the room was dark and waited until he felt her relax before he began to sing.

He knew his singing wasn't anywhere near good, as tired as he was. His throat was tired and scratchy. But he did his best, stumbling over the words when she joined him for the last line of the chorus.

"I wanna walk and not run. I wanna skip and not fall…" He carefully smoothed his hand over her hair. "I wanna look at the horizon and not see a building standing tall. I wanna be the only one for miles and miles, except for maybe you and your simple smile…"

"Oh it sounds good to me," she sang softly, fingers idly tracing over his chest. "Yes it sounds so good to me…"

His heart squeezed when she joined him in the chorus. Covering her fidgeting hand with his, he felt it twist until their palms rested against each other. Their fingers spread at the same time, and he marveled at how perfectly her hand fit in his. How, when their fingers twined, it felt as natural to him as breathing.

"Adam?" she murmured. Sleepiness made her voice soft.

"Yeah?"

"You're my cowboy." She snuggled closer, pressing her cheek just above his heart. "I didn't want you to be. But you are."

"I am?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm."

"Dimples?"

"Mm?"

"I wouldn't wanna be anybody else's." He dipped his head, pressing a kiss into her hair.

"Mm…" In the darkness, he could feel her smile. Her thumb hooked around his. "Good."

"Goodnight, Dimples," he whispered.

She didn't reply immediately. Then, just when he was certain she'd gone to sleep, she whispered, "Goodnight, Cowboy."

***

Despite the dull ache in her head, Serena awoke feeling refreshed. She was warm and almost cozy feeling, as though she'd been wrapped in a warm blanket all night long. She sighed, and the firm mattress beneath her head lifted slightly. When had she gotten soft jersey cotton sheets?

"Mornin'."

Her eyes snapped open. Oh. Right. She was sleeping on Adam. There wasn't a blanket over her, it was his arm. That wasn't a jersey cotton sheet, it was his t-shirt. Her hand wasn't tucked under the pillow, it was tucked between his hand and the steady thump of his heartbeat. With the blink of an eye it all came rushing back. Concussion. Staples. Adam with her in the hospital. Adam coming home with her. Adam waiting on her. Adam crawling into bed with her.

Adam singing sweetly so she could go to sleep.

"Morning," she murmured. Stretching out her legs, she felt the thickness of his and was about to move away from him when she decided she didn't want to. She wanted to enjoy the cocoon of warmth that his body offered.

"You slept all night."

"That's good, right?"

"Yeah. It's good."

She looked at his hand over hers. "…I need to pee."

His chuckle rumbled through his chest. "C'mon."

There was something embarrassing about having to be helped out of bed. She was used to just rolling out and doing what she had to do. But just sliding to the edge made her feel weak. So, when he offered her his hands for support, she accepted them. Her head spun as she stood, and she gripped his hands tightly until her balance restored.

Adam frowned. "Okay?"

"Just a little dizzy. It went away quick," she promised, not wanting him to worry more than she knew he already was. Still holding his hands, she took a tentative step away from the bed and breathed a sigh of relief. "It's gone."

Still, he held onto her hand until she was in the bathroom. Then he stood just outside the door while she used it. She moved slowly, not wanting the dizziness return, and when she saw her reflection in the mirror she grimaced. There was still makeup on her eyes from… Had it been the night before last? Turning on the water, she reached for a washcloth and her face wash.

"You okay?" he called, knocking gently on the half-open door.

"I'm fine. Just washing my face."

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"Coffee."

"Try again."

"Iced coffee?"

"Dimples…" There was a gentle thump against the door and she knew he'd banged his forehead against it.

"Anything you fix is fine," she answered with a sigh. "But I'd really, really like some coffee."

"How do you like your eggs?"

"Sunny side up."

"Alright."

Serena washed her face slowly, frowning when it occurred to her that he was still outside the door. "Are you going to cook?"

"Once you come out."

"You really are a sweetheart, you know that?" she asked after drying her face and nudging the door open.

"I keep telling you I am, I don't know why you're so surprised."

"When can I take a shower?" she asked after he helped her back into the bed.

"Later." He adjusted the pillow behind her head. "I'll go get your breakfast."

She nodded, eyes drifting to his ass as he walked out. Funny, she thought absentmindedly, how it looked firmer in a pair of pajama pants. Firm enough to bounce a quarter off. Biting her lip, she glanced to the nightstand on the off chance there was change there. Of course there was none, and she wasn't about to fling a water bottle at him. Besides, she didn't have the nerve to toss a quarter at his ass either, did she?

She grabbed the water bottle and took a sip, wishing he'd handed over her phone so she could at least text her parents. She vaguely remembered talking to them the day before, after Adam had tucked her into bed and she'd said she wanted to call them. He had told her she'd talked to them while at the hospital but she couldn't remember that. Could only remember her mother's concerned voice, and her father's worry. And Adam's gentle voice as he promised them he would be there to take care of her.

She could smell coffee. Was he making it for himself? Knowing he wouldn't give her any?

"Bastard," she muttered under her breath, reaching to undo the bun. At the last second she thought better of it, not wanting to smell her dirty hair. Her fingers inched to the back of her scalp and she tentatively touched the staples, shuddering with revulsion. She needed coffee. She was sure it could clear some of the cloudiness from her brain.

To hell with it. She pushed her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. No dizziness. That was good, right? Her gaze slid to the papers on the dresser, which Adam had read through countless times the day before, answering the questions she had whenever she was awake enough to think. Surely she wasn't supposed to completely avoid caffeine. It was her number one vice. Her only addiction. Besides, she'd had chocolate ice cream, and didn't chocolate have caffeine?

"What are you doing?"

Serena blinked stupidly. "Going to the kitchen?"

"Why?"

"To get—" She saw the mug in his hands. The aroma of coffee was suddenly overpowering and she felt her mouth water. "What's that?"

"I fixed you coffee."

"You did?" she whispered. Now her eyes were watering.

"I figured if I didn't, you'd drag your ass to the kitchen and fix it yourself." One corner of his mouth lifted. "Obviously I was right."

"Yes, yes, you're a genius when it comes to my psyche. Now gimme."

"Get in bed."

"Coffee."

"Bed."

With a huff, she backed up until she could sit on the edge of the mattress. Coffee. She needed the coffee. She made grabbing motions with her hands. She didn't even care if he'd put enough sugar and creamer in it. For once, she wouldn't care if it was pure black. She just needed… Sighing as her hands wrapped around the warm mug, she closed her eyes and breathed in the decadent fragrance. She slowly lifted the mug for a sip, a tiny moan escaping after the first taste. Heaven, she thought, lowering her head to savor the flavor.

"That good?" he asked with a soft chuckle.

"It's perfect," she whispered, feeling a lock of hair slip across her cheek.

"You told me you like a lot of sugar and cream."

"I did?" She couldn't remember that. But it didn't matter. The coffee was perfect and he was perfect and she should never have called him a bastard.

"Yesterday when you were begging for coffee." His fingers swept the lock of hair behind her ear, lingering before sliding away. "You stay here and enjoy that while I fix your eggs."

"I will," she promised. She wasn't going anywhere until she'd enjoyed every drop.

"You want some toast?"

She nodded, mouth full of coffee. After swallowing, she sighed with satisfaction. She could already feel the fogginess starting to clear. "Butter and jam, please."

"Bacon?"

"Absolutely." She was starving. Lifting her head, she smiled up at him. And was happy when he smiled back. "Could I eat in the kitchen?"

"Dimples—"

"I don't want to be in bed all day. I'll go crazy."

"Okay," he relented. "How about you eat on the couch?"

"Sure."

"I'll come get you when it's ready."

"Yes, sir," she murmured. She thought she caught a glimmer of something in his eyes before he left the room. Deciding she hadn't, she focused on enjoying her coffee.

By the time she finished it she could smell bacon. She could hear him talking. Had he called her parents again? She looked to the clock on the nightstand. No, too early for her parents. It was barely six in California, and they didn't get up until after seven. She supposed they could have gotten up early… Her curiosity got the better of her and she got to her feet to make her way to the kitchen.

She could smell citrus. Blinking, she stopped in the living room, eyes sweeping the room. It was neat. The coffee table was clear, the blankets she kept on the couch were neatly folded and lying over the back. The bits and pieces of stuff that she left lying around – extra phone charger, lip balm, hand cream, hair ties – were all in the basket on the end table that she always intended to keep them in. Her bookshelf had been straightened. The shoes she always left in a pile near the door had been arranged. There was a laundry basket in the armchair, and she could see that it contained folded clothes. And, she realized, digging her bare toes into the carpet, the floor had been vacuumed.

"What the hell," she muttered under her breath. When had he done all that?

She pushed forward to go into the kitchen, drawing in a breath to ask him when he'd cleaned. But she stopped when she saw him standing in front of the sliding glass door. His head was bent, his phone to his ear.

"Look, I know it's shitty timing, but…" He sighed. "I need to stay here, alright? My girl needs me."

His girl. The words warmed her more than the coffee had.

"Her folks are in California. And all her friends around here are from work, which means – Right. Right. Yeah." He was nodding at whatever the person he was talking to was saying. "Yup. She's better. Not sick or anything. I just can't leave her, y'know? Not 'til I know she's gonna be alright."

Oh, he really was a goddamned sweetheart.

"Thanks, Tony," he said with a sigh of relief. "I'll let you know how she is in a few days – What?"

She loved the way he said what. Especially when his Virginia accent thickened and it came out as drawled wut as it was now. And can't always came out as cain't. She loved that, too.

She loved—

"Alright. Sorry I woke you up, Matt…" He laughed. "Yeah, you're right. I'm not. Bye, ya'll. Thanks."

He lowered his phone and looked at the screen for a moment. And suddenly she didn't want to disturb him. Didn't want him to know she'd overheard part of his conversation. Backing up, she was about to turn when he moved away from the door. He glanced over, saw her, and did a double-take.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Being nosy wouldn't be a good answer, she supposed. So she went for the second reason she'd left the bedroom. "It's lonely back there."

"Dimples—"

"I know, I know, I need to rest. But I'm wide-awake now. And I'm starving. And I didn't want you to have to come all the way back there when I can obviously get to the living room without help." She pressed her lips together, a little surprised at her outburst. "Who were you talking to?"

"Oh… Matt and Tony." He looked almost embarrassed. "I, uh… I got the next week off. So your folks don't have to come all the way out here? And so somebody can be here with you—"

"Oh, Adam…"

The empty mug fell to the floor with a soft thump and she moved forward. He met her halfway, muttering that she shouldn't be moving so fast, but all she cared was that he accepted her embrace. He returned it, arms wrapping snugly around her, and her eyes stung with tears when she felt him curl over so his face was pressed into her hair.

"I'm sorry I'm a bitchy patient," she muttered against his chest.

"I don't expect you to be an angel when you're in pain," he promised. His hands smoothed up and down her back. She felt his lips push deeper into her hair. "Go on, get on the couch and I'll finish your breakfast."

She ate every bite on her plate, and even stole two slices of his bacon. He rolled his eyes and playfully swatted her hand away. Then, with a sigh, he slipped another slice onto her plate. They didn't talk much while they ate and for that she was grateful, because her head was starting to ache again. From sitting up so long, she surmised. Watching him carry the dishes into the kitchen, she pulled her feet up onto the couch and laid her head back.

"Here," he murmured. She lifted her head and saw him holding a steaming mug. "Some herbal tea. The doctor said it would help, remember?"

"Thank you." She didn't remember, but he had no reason to lie. Her memory of the doctor was mostly vague, foggy snippets. She pulled her feet closer to her body and took the mug.

"And take this, I know you're head's hurting," he said, dropping two Tylenol into her free hand.

"How did you—"

"You get this little wrinkle here." He indicated the space between his eyebrows. "It came back while we were eating."

Damn, he was observant. With a nod, she took the pills and swallowed them down. She supposed after she drank the tea, he would want her to go back to bed. She wondered how many days of rest she had to look forward to. In the same moment she reminded herself that however many days of rest she had, she would at least have his wonderful, comforting company.

Adam yawned. A large, loud yawn that ended with a soft groan. He mumbled an apology, and she frowned when he rubbed the heel of his palms against his eyes.

"You can go to bed," she said after taking a sip of her tea. "I'll be alright."

"Nah, nah, I'm good," he murmured, stretching his arms above his head before letting them flop.

"Have you slept?" she asked, frown deepening. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes. She knew he'd showered. She had no clue. Those first hours were a fog. Coming to consciousness and feeling his arm around her. Drifting off to the sound of his voice.

"I got a nap. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she promised. And she was. If she held her head up too long, she got a bit of a headache. But she was fine. She hadn't gotten sick anymore. She hadn't gotten confused or had any problems with her vision. And she hadn't felt dizzy. "Adam…"

"I'm just gonna close my eyes for a few minutes." He leaned his head back against the couch and sighed. "If you need something kick me."

"Adam," she groaned, slowly leaning over and tugging on his sleeve. "Lay down."

"I'm fine," he insisted.

"You're dead on your feet and making me feel guilty about it. At least stretch out on the couch." She shifted, pushed her feet onto the coffee table. Patting her thigh, she motioned for him to lie down.

With a groan, he turned and stretched out, slowly lowering his head into her lap. Just before his cheek hit her thigh, he stopped. "You sure?"

"Rest, cowboy," she insisted.

He turned onto his back, and she found it oddly adorable how his blonde curls spilled over her thigh. "I'm not gonna go to sleep."

"Just rest," she murmured. Unable to resist, she smoothed her fingers over his brow. Until the deep furrows lessened and she heard his sigh. Leaning, she placed her mug on the end table and then brought her other hand to his head, smiling down at him when his eyes slowly drifted shut.

"That feels good," he said softly, stretching his legs out.

"Shh." She wanted him to get some rest. Couldn't fathom him staying awake just because of her. Couldn't bear to think that her stupidity and clumsiness had caused him to lose precious sleep. He had to be exhausted. Not to mention sore. When her fingers slipped to his temples he groaned softly and she paused. "Do you have a headache?"

"Little bit. But it's okay."

She rolled her eyes and gently began to massage his temples. Rewarded with another groan and a deep sigh, she kept at it. Until she felt the tension in his body ease. Until his fingers stopped drumming his chest. Until his face relaxed with slumber.

She smoothed her fingers along his jaw, hesitating briefly before allowing her thumb to lightly caress his cheek. His head turned slightly, cheek pressing tighter against her palm, and she felt her heart jump.

"I do like you, Cowboy," she whispered. She felt liberated for admitting it, even if he was asleep and wouldn't hear her. Which was probably why she had the nerve to utter the words. "How could a woman not fall in love with you?"

Especially after the past twenty-four hours. Even though she had been completely out of it, the sight of him rushing in her hospital room was burned in her memory. The worry. The anguish. The way his hands shook when they held hers. The hoarseness of his voice when he'd asked how she was. She would never forget the elation that had risen in her from just seeing him there. Or how waking up to see him sitting at her bedside, hands folded beneath his chin, lips moving silently in a fervent prayer, had made her heart swell.

There were other memories. Or perhaps hallucinations. She couldn't be sure because they weren't as clear. But she thought she had come to at one point and heard him saying words sweeter than any prayer.

You're my girl, Dimples. I can't pretend I don't want it to be real.

She couldn't, either.

She frowned, wondering when it had all changed. And how she hadn't fully realized until now.

He hadn't said anything about his feelings for her since she'd been released from the hospital. He'd told her how worried he'd been when he'd heard the news, and how he had worried all night long. How he was so glad she was going to be okay, that it could have been so much worse. And she couldn't even be sure if some of those admissions were real or if she'd dreamed them. But he didn't have to say them. Not really.

Because he'd been showing he cared every moment.

Insisting he would stay with her. Making her bed with fresh sheets. Washing the blood from her staples. Cooking for her. Cleaning for her. God only knew how many phone calls he'd answered for her while she drifted in and out. He'd done everything for her, short of carrying her to the toilet. And hadn't complained once.

No wonder he was exhausted. When had he last slept? Really slept. The night before she'd gotten injured? He'd said he'd napped, but that didn't count. It was a miracle he hadn't collapsed.

He sighed in his sleep. His body shifted, rolling up onto his side, and he burrowed his face into her thigh, his hand sliding to clutch her shirt.

His shirt. She was still wearing the clothes he'd given her to wear home from the hospital. She remembered joking that she was glad he was thick, because otherwise her hips would never have fit into his sweatpants. She remembered his little frown when she'd said that, and wondered suddenly if the words had hurt his feelings.

She stroked his hair. Ran her fingers gently through the curls, which were softer than a man's hair should be. Let his locks wind around her finger. Smoothed it back from his face. And when she heard a gentle snore from him, she smiled. Reaching for the blanket on the back of the couch, she dragged it over him, wanting him to be as comfortable as he possibly could.

When he woke up, she would make him go to bed. If she had to, she would tie him down. She blinked at that thought and pushed away the non-sleepy images that flashed in her mind. Grabbing the other blanket, she bunched it up to make a pillow and tucked it in the corner so she could rest her head.

And slept.

***

"You sure you're feeling up to this?"

Serena sighed. But Adam could tell it wasn't with annoyance. "Yes. I'm sure. I've been cooped up in my place for a week—"

"Hey, you've seen the doctor three times."

"Doesn't count. Anyway, I need to get out. Breathe the air. Enjoy the sunshine."

"You're such a country girl at heart," he said with pride. "Alright, let's go."

"Where are we going?" she asked once they'd gotten into the car.

"A place." He handed over her sunglasses, not wanting the bright sun to cause a headache. She hadn't had one in days, but he couldn't keep from worrying over her. He had a feeling he would worry even more when the time came for him to leave. He had an even stronger feeling that he would never stop worrying for her.

He had another feeling, too. That he knew what all this worrying about her he was doing meant.

"Where is this place?"

"Down the road."

"Oh god," she groaned. "You're really not gonna tell me?"

"I will, but damn is it fun to torture you," he said with a grin. "We're going to the lake."

"The lake," she repeated. Her brow creased. "Adam, there's a million lakes around here."

"It's about an hour away." He cleared his throat. "We're not going on the lake. Just… To it."

"Like a public beach?"

"Tony has a little cabin," Adam said. "He's letting us use the place for the day. Well, okay, it's not little, it's actually bigger than my house, but to him it's little. I figured you'd enjoy getting out of town for the day, though, and there's—"

He was silenced when she leaned over the console and flung her arms around him. Grunting in surprise, he immediately brought his arms around her, smiling when her lips met his cheek in an exuberant kiss.

"I take it you like the idea?" he asked, turning to kiss her cheek in return.

"I love it." She kissed his cheek again before sitting back. "There's what?"

"Huh?"

"You were gonna say there's… Something?"

"Oh!" Grinning, he finally put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking spot. "There's a big yard with lots of shade, so I thought we'd have a picnic for lunch."

"Damn," she murmured. "I'm impressed."

"Me too," he admitted. "I didn't think a lake house would be that big a deal."

"It's not the lake house. It's… It's you wanting to do something special for me."

"You went through hell, Dimples," he reminded her, arm dropping onto the console once they were on the highway. "You deserve special."

Her hand slid into his, and her head leaned against his bicep. "You've been giving me special all week."

"Maybe you just deserve special," he murmured.

She hummed at that. "I might start believing that one day."

Which meant she didn't already believe that. That soured his mood, but he squeezed her hand. And when she reached to turn on music he didn't complain, having learned that after revealing just the smallest of insecurities she had to do something to shift the focus. So he kept his arguments to himself, letting her drag him into singing along with the upbeat, happy songs she played.

"This is little?" Serena blurted when he parked at the end of the gravel drive.

"I told you," he sighed.

"Can we go see the lake?" she asked, already climbing out of the car.

"It's quicker to go through the house," he called after her when she headed across the grass.

She turned on her heel and skipped up the steps to the door, bouncing with excitement while he pulled out his phone to find the code Tony had texted him. "He said the cleaner hasn't been out in a few weeks so it might be dusty."

"It's probably cleaner than my place was when I moved in," she muttered.

He laughed, because she was probably right, and pushed the door open after punching in the code.

"Tell him he's a big fucking liar," she said as soon as they entered.

"Oh, sure, lemme just text my fucking boss that he's a fucking liar, that'll go over great," he drawled, reaching to turn off the alarm with the second code Tony had sent him. Once it gave a quick beep and all the lights went off, he closed the door and let her pull him through the house. He didn't see more than a blur of the rooms before they were going out the front door and onto the large deck that overlooked the lake.

"Holy shit," she breathed, stopping at the top of the stairs that led down to a small dock.

He agreed. The lawn was terraced but rolling, and only at the stairs could they see the lake through the large weeping willows. The grass looked an almost impossible shade of green and was scattered with dandelions. There was a sweet, almost heady scent coming from the flowering bushes around the deck, and he could smell the aroma of pine trees and dirt and, faintly, meat being cooked on a grill.

They walked down to the dock together, hand in hand, and even when they reached the end of the dock and she leaned to dip her toes in the water he didn't let go. He didn't let go when she sat to swing her feet through the gently lapping current. He didn't let go when he sat next to her. He didn't let go as she laid her head on his shoulder. Or when she tucked her other arm around him.

"This is beautiful, Adam," she whispered.

He pulled his gaze from the top of her head. He hadn't been able to see much. Just her bright hair and the dark roots she had started to complain about, and the tip of her nose. He barely glanced at the water, at the boats speeding across the way, at the swimmers bobbing in the wakes. Looking back at her just as she tipped her head back, he felt his breath catch in his throat. "Yeah, you really are."

She blinked. "What?"

"You're beautiful."

She started to pull away, but he caught her arm before she could. She shook her head.

And for the millionth time, he cursed the asshole that had crushed her to the worst depths of hell. "Dimples—"

"I'm not beautiful."

"The fuck you ain't." The words snapped from his mouth with force and he watched her pretty eyes widen. "Look, I don't know who the fuck made you feel less than gorgeous, but they fucking lied, alright? Whatever they said, whatever they did, it don't change the fact that every time I look at you, you take my breath away. It don't change the fact that I get lost in your eyes. That… That… And don't you dare say I'm only saying this to be nice. I ain't that nice. I don't care what anyone else says or thinks. When I look at you, I see beautiful."

There were tears in her pretty amber eyes. "Adam…"

"I didn't want to at first. But every time I look at you I see something that makes you even more beautiful. Like that dimple. And your eyes. Or the way you can lift one eyebrow. How your nose wrinkles when you laugh. Or…" He lifted his hand, faintly tracing the curve of her upper lip. "Or how your lip does that curve…"

She tried to duck her head but he gently caught her chin, needing her to keep looking at him. And when he saw a tear slip free he frowned.

"Don't cry, Dimples."

"No one's ever called me beautiful," she whispered brokenly.

His frown deepened. "No one?"

"Oh, I've been told I'm pretty. Or cute. People love to call me cute." She reached to swipe the tear away. "But I've always been the funny one, you know? The smart one. 'Hey, let's bring Serena, she's a fun time' and that kind of stuff. N-never…"

"Beautiful," he said.

"That."

"Not even your family?" He'd talked to her parents half a dozen times during the past week. Had found them to be friendly, caring, and just as vibrant as their daughter. When Serena had had them on speakerphone, they'd said several times how much they loved her and how proud they were of her. The thought they hadn't called her beautiful made him like them a little less.

"They don't count." She sniffled. "They love me as family. They have to think I'm beautiful."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, resting his forehead against hers briefly. He slid his hand to her cheek, brushing away another tear that had slipped down. "I'll just keep telling you you're beautiful until you believe it."

"You—" She cut off with a sharp gasp. "You don't have to put on the act out here, Adam."

"It's…" Bewildered when she pulled away and got to her feet, he dragged his hand over his face and hopped up. "You think I'm lying to you?"

"No. But you don't have to keep saying it."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because it's not true!"

"What's not true?" he asked, confused. Hadn't he just explained to her how she was beautiful?

"None of this. You've been…" She threw her hands up and waved them as though she couldn't think of the right word. "Ever since the hospital."

"I've been what?"

"Different."

"How?"

"Sweet. Affectionate. Like you care."

"I—"

"And I have to keep reminding myself that it's not real. And I don't know if I said something that made you think you had to treat me like a queen all week or…" She looked at him, panic in her eyes. "Did I say something?"

"You were saying some strange stuff, Dimples," he admitted with a shake of his head. He didn't want to bring them up. Didn't want to run the risk of her saying she hadn't meant any of it. Didn't want the rejection he could sense coming. Didn't want to ruin the great day they were having. Although it looked as though it were already ruined.

"I know that. Cole said I sounded high as a kite. But what was I saying?"

"It's not important."

"Cowboy." The worry in her eyes caused his heart to squeeze. "I need to know. It's… It's like I got drunk and don't remember. But worse. At least when I've gotten drunk, I had people around to tell me what stupid shit I did and said. And you not telling me… Was it bad? Did I say something mean?"

"No," he promised quickly. "Dimples, baby, no. You were… Spaced out. Your brain got rattled. What you said isn't important because it was like a drunken confession. Not to be taken seriously."

"Adam. Drunken confessions are, most of the time, the person's true feelings. Haven't you let your feelings bare when you've gotten drunk?"

"I'm a quiet drunk," he admitted, taking a step toward the stairs. "C'mon, let's get back, okay? I don't want you to do too much."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what I said."

"God you're stubborn," he muttered, turning to face her. "Okay. Fine. You want to know what you said? You said I was your cowboy. You said a lot of stuff. How you like smelling me. That you like when I call you Dimples. How you'd be stupid to not date me. That you'd be stupid to not fall."

Her eyes widened and her hand slid from his. "I…"

"And you said I should try it, too."

"I…" It was a croak. A faint squeak. She looked shocked and embarrassed and, he thought, still had the ability to be the most adorable woman he'd ever had the pleasure of looking upon. "What?"

"You wanted to know," he said. Waiting. Hoping she would say she meant the words. That her rattle-brained confession had been true. But she just stood there. Staring up at him. Still with that look of shock on her face.

Then her face shifted. Her eyes softened. "You said some stuff too, Adam."

He'd been looking down at his feet and jerked his head up suddenly. "What?"

"You probably thought I was asleep. But I was in and out of it. And I heard a lot of things." Her eyes softened further. "You prayed for me."

Adam drew in a breath. He'd prayed harder and more than he'd ever prayed in his life. He didn't like thinking of those nerve-wracking moments between when he'd learned she'd been injured and had seen her for himself. Didn't like remembering the anguish and worry that hadn't gone away until he had held her hand and looked into her eyes. Unless dragged into one by Nick and Matt, he rarely prayed. But it was all he'd done that night, in between his ramblings to her while she slept.

Right now he was praying she hadn't heard any of his blathering.

"Yeah, I prayed for you," he said, catching the lock of hair that danced against her cheek and sweeping it back. "It was all I did from the second I heard you were hurt."

"You said other things."

"Did I?"

"I think you did. Or maybe I was dreaming." Her brow furrowed and he couldn't help but smooth his fingers over it until the creases eased. "Adam, I don't know if you really said what I heard or if I dreamed it or if it was some hallucination, but…"

"What did I say?"

"I can't remember all of it." When his hand moved to her cheek she leaned against his palm and sighed. "Just bits and pieces like how you couldn't take it if I was badly hurt. And you knew you weren't supposed to but you like me. And how I didn't need to get you a shirt because you bought one when you came to the show that night to see me."

She smiled. That pretty smile that did things to his heart and his stomach. But her eyes were still troubled. Which only made him want to pull her into his arms and reassure her that everything would be okay. And that, if she wanted him to, he'd always be right there to help her make things okay again.

"And you were talking to someone. A nurse I think?" She frowned again, one hand coming up to cup his wrist. "She was talking about you being there all night and you said…"

He knew what he'd said. Could remember the scene perfectly. Serena lying in the bed, seemingly asleep. The nurse coming in to check her vital signs and adjust her IV. Smiling at him and saying she was surprised he hadn't fallen asleep.

Not until I know for sure it's minor. Holding her hand in both of his. Feeling her fingers squeeze occasionally. The softness of her palm against his lips when he'd kissed it. She's my girl, you know. I need to make sure she's okay.

The nurse, cooing that Serena was a lucky woman, then leaving and closing the door. He couldn't remember what she looked like, or even how her voice had sounded. Because he'd been too busy focusing on Serena. And the little smile that had pulled at her lips when he'd called her his girl.

"You said I was your girl," she whispered.

"I did."

"And when you called Matt and Tony the other day. You said you had to stay because your girl needs you."

He hadn't known she'd overheard that. He'd thought she'd been asleep on the couch. Nodding, he allowed his thumb to sweep over her cheek. "I know what I said, Dimples."

"I hate this," she groaned.

His heart snatched in his chest. And he began to pull away from her. "I'm sorry—"

"No, no!" She tightened her grip on his wrist. "I hate not knowing. I hate that the lie and the truth have gotten so twisted and turned around I can't tell them apart anymore. I hate that it took a fucking concussion for me to admit I actually do like you and that it took the concussion for you to say like me, too."

"What do you want, Serena?"

"I don't know. I-I don't want to pretend anymore. But I don't want to force this…whatever we've got. Every little step has felt so natural and genuine. At least, to me it has. I like this." She gestured between them. "And I don't want you saying you like it too just because my head bounced off the apron. I want… I want honesty. I want baby steps because I'm scared to death."

"Why are you scared?" he whispered, frowning.

"Because I think I like it too much," she gasped.

"C'mere." He pulled his wrist from her grasp and spread his arms. Folded them around her as soon as she stepped into them. Closed his eyes so he could enjoy the sensation of completeness that settled over him each time she was in his arms.

***

Serena enjoyed their picnic lunch, despite the air of incompletion hovering around them. It wasn't an elaborate meal. Just sandwiches, potato salad he'd made using his mom's recipe. For dessert he'd baked cookies. She smiled as she ate them, remembering his fumbling answer when she'd asked why she could smell cookies that morning. There was a jug of sweet tea to wash it all down, and he'd even packed some peaches he said were from his favorite farmer's market.

Sitting on the soft blanket in the shade of the largest weeping willow, she enjoyed the heavily dapped sunlight and the fresh breeze that rolled up the hill from the lake. She enjoyed the birdsong and the music playing softly from his phone. She enjoyed a full belly and his quiet, comforting company. She enjoyed that he'd indulged her and blown dandelions before they ate. She enjoyed looking over and seeing him, leaning against the tree trunk looking worthy of the cover of some romance novel.

"Dimples?" He said the nickname softly, as though fearful of disturbing their enjoyment.

"Yeah, Cowboy?" She liked how his smile widened when she called him that. Liked how it made his eyes crinkle. Liked that he always looked down as though a little embarrassed by the nickname. Loved that when he raised his eyes again they shone with happiness.

"What we were talking about earlier…" He took a sip of his tea and brushed cookie crumbs from his lap. "About us?"

Us. She loved being us. "What about us?"

His eyes brightened and she thought that, maybe, he liked being us too. "I wanna try."

"You… You really want to try?" she whispered, scared to speak louder. She feared that if she raised her voice to even a normal tone it would ruin the moment.

He reached forward, thumb sweeping her cheek. "I do. If you think we should. I mean… We seem to be doing alright, don't we? We have for a few weeks now."

"Yeah." There was a dandelion seed caught in one of his curls. She reached to pluck it away, the light breeze carrying her gasp away when he turned his head and lightly kissed the inside of her wrist. "I mean, really, nothing's changing. Right?"

"Well I sure as hell hope I get to kiss you now, but no, nothing's really changing."

"Now?"

"Now… In a little while, when we go back inside. Later, when we get back to your place. Tonight, before you go to sleep… Tomorrow, after we wake up."

"That many times, huh?" she murmured.

"Well," he drawled, kissing her wrist again before stretching out on the blanket. Head propped on his elbow, he grinned up at her. "We've got a lot of catching up to do, y'know."

"Oh we do?" She knew she had to have the stupidest grin on her face. In fact, she seemed to have that grin on her face a lot lately. "How do you figure that?"

"Dimples," he sighed, grin widening as she moved to lie next to him. "We've been seeing each other for weeks now. I know you keep saying I'm old-fashioned, but I do try to get a kiss in after the first couple of dates."

"Ah, but our seeing each other doesn't count because we weren't really seeing each other," she pointed out. "Therefore, your reasoning is flawed."

"Okay, fine," he grunted. "How about we both deserve a kiss?"

"Do we?"

"You helped me cum," he whispered. "And, going by what I heard, I helped you, too."

Her eyes widened and she tried to pull oxygen into her lungs. "Wh-what?"

"I'm sick of dancing around it," he muttered. "You called me. On accident, I guess. And I heard you. I heard you…"

She almost laughed at the way his cheeks reddened and he waved his hand. "You heard me masturbating."

"Y-yeah."

"It was an accident," she admitted, finally sucking in a deep breath. Pulling her knees to her chest, she wondered if wishing she couldn't remember that night made her a bad person. "I was… Worked up from being around you all night. And… Okay, fine, I was looking at the pics you sent me of you in your new gear. And, well… I had to get off. I guess when I put my phone down,  I hit the screen to call you. I'm sorry. I didn't know until after."

"Don't apologize."

"Right, because you really wanted to hear me fingering myself—" She jerked her head up and stared at him. "You came, too?"

"I was keyed up from being around you all night. Maybe I shouldn't admit it, but listening to you turned me on. And when you screamed my name?" He licked his lips in a way that made her long to feel his tongue on her. "I came hard, Dimples."

"Oh."

"I was gonna try to talk to you after, but I hung up. And I didn't want it to be weird so I didn't call you back. And—"

"So you texted me," she whispered.

"Yeah."

And, suddenly, she had to know. "Did you think of me?"

"Yes."

That gave her a thrill. Slowly, she lowered her knees and dragged her tongue over her lips.

"I thought about it being my fingers instead of yours. Thought about you moaning for me. Thought about how good you'd feel under me," he whispered.

She didn't know where the courage came from. Had she not known him better, she might have thought he'd spiked the tea. She took a sip just to make sure, then set her cup down next to the cooler. Her teeth caught her bottom lip and, watching him sit up slowly, she swallowed. "You wanna find out?"

#adam page fanfiction #hangman page fanfiction #aew fanfiction #multipart:BITN #my fics #adam page #hangman adam page

[champhangman]

Bleed Into the Night

Title: Bleed Into the Night Part: One of ?? Characters: Hangman Adam Page x OFC Summary: She wasn’t looking. Neither was he. For a brief flash, they found each other. Word Count:3,082 A/N: This. Is. All. Ashley's. Fucking. Fault. I hate her. Bitch.* Warnings: Alcohol use. Mild cursing. * = Actually I love her very much and this isn't so much her fault as she encouraged me to blather on about how to fit a scene I'd written into a fic, then highly encouraged me to write the fic I plotted out in the middle of the night. She's literally the best.

Tagging: @adampage / @cowboysht / @baysexuality​ / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy / @evilangel84 / @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess​ / @baronsbelleevangeline​ / @brie-mode-activated​ / @xbreezymeadowsx​ / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​

One

 "Page!"

Adam looked up from his laptop, surprised to see Britt making her way to him. Not that her finding him for a chat was unusual. She rarely looked so excited, though. He stretched his leg to push out the chair next to him, smiling faintly when she flopped down. "What's up?"

"We're having a couple friends over this weekend. Nothing fancy. Just throwing some steaks on the grill and hanging out. You'll come, won't you?" she asked, gaze moving from him to her phone. He could see that she was texting someone. Probably her boyfriend.

Or were they engaged now? He couldn't be sure. If they were, Britt didn't wear a ring. Giving his head a small shake, he considered her invitation. "I don't know…"

"Please? We were just saying the other night that we haven't hung out in ages," she reminded him.

He sensed a trap. Either in the next few moments, or as soon as he got to their house, her face would light up and she would say—

"There's someone I want you to meet."

There it was. Adam sighed and shook his head. "Famous last words."

"Not like that! God, she's so not your type. At all."

"Then why do you want me to meet her?" he asked. Because he had to. He began clicking the pen he was holding.

"She's new to the business. Wait. Not that new. She signed over there last year I think? But she never worked the indies. Anyway, she debuted a month or so ago and Adam's taken her under his wing."

He nodded, smiling. Cole took anyone with promise and passion under his wing. "Okay?"

"And she's far away from home so she doesn't see her family much. She's from Montana. Anyway, she's been to the house a few times and I really like her." Britt smiled. "I'm not trying to set you up. I promise."

"Again, why do you want me to meet her?" He kept pushing his thumb against the top of the pen, faster and faster, until he jabbed it too hard and it went flying across the table. Dropping his hand to his thigh, he drummed his fingers and waited for her explanation.

"Because she's nice. She's super friendly and I loved her in five minutes. I don't expect you to love her!" Britt promised, holding up one hand. "So you'll come?"

Adam groaned. "Do I have a choice?"

"Of course you do. It's a free…ish country."

"But you'll guilt the hell out of me if I don't."

Britt's smile was dazzling. "Of course."

"Text me the time," he sighed.

"Yay! If you want whiskey you have to bring it. Oh, and bring a change of clothes. We'll probably end up in the pool. See you!"

He drew in a breath to reply, but she was already gone. Shaking his head, he bent to lean under the table, searching for his lost pen. He still had a suspicious feeling that she and Cole were definitely trying to hook him up with whoever it was Cole had taken under his wing. More Britt than Cole, he was sure, leaning to snatch the pen from the floor. Settling back, he wondered why seemingly normal people who fell in love were suddenly zealous about everyone around them being coupled up. He would never understand it. And he would never understand why he was always the one being set up. Did he appear lonely? Sad because he was single? Depressed because he had only his beer and whiskey to keep him company?

Well, if he did appear that way, he wasn't lonely. He began to click the pen rapidly while turning his attention back to the laptop. He lived a very full life. He was achieving his dreams. He got to work with some of his best friends. He was making good money. Could finally spoil his parents, who had more than spoiled him when he was growing up. He had an active social life. He didn't sit at home in a funk on his nights off, drinking the sadness away while listening to a melancholy Hank Williams tune. He didn't need a significant other. He was perfectly happy with his life as it was.

Okay, so he was lonely sometimes. When everyone was off doing couple things and he was left with Jack to keep him company. And those times they would go to a bar, or when they'd been on the cruise, and even though he had been surrounded by willing partners he'd been unable to do anything but down drinks and retreat to his room. Alone.

"Get a grip," he muttered to himself, throwing the pen down and resting his head in his hands. Britt had said she wasn't his type. Which meant she was… Hell, what was she?

On that note, what the hell was his type? Did he even have a type?

"I'm not going," he grumbled, reaching to pull the laptop closer to him. "I don't care. I don't give a damn if she does guilt-trip me into the next fucking decade, I—"

"You okay?"

Grunting, he looked up to see Nick standing beside him. "Yeah. I'm fine. Almost finished this bit for BTE."

"Where are you not going?" Nick asked.

"Britt and Cole's." Adam glanced to his phone, lying on the table, when it buzzed with an incoming message. With a sigh he picked it up and read the words Britt had sent.

Saturday, 5-ish. Pool! BYOB!

"Who's she setting you up with this time?"

"Damned if I know. Because I'm not going." So decided, Adam locked his phone and turned his attention fully to the laptop.

***

"Serena!"

About to leave the Performance Center, Serena halted mid-step and looked over her shoulder to see Adam Cole jogging towards her. She knew she wouldn't be leaving any time soon and let her bag slide from her shoulder. She had purposefully arrived early that morning to get extra work in the green room done, still uncomfortable with her mic skills, and had gotten permission from Matt and Sara to slip out early. She was looking forward to her days off. She couldn't wait to turn the outside world off for a couple of days, enjoy some wine, and de-stress.

"Glad I caught you. You're leaving already?" he asked, eyeing her bag.

"Shh, it's a secret," she whispered, rolling her eyes. "What's up?"

"I thought you wanted to work on your enzuigiri."

"I did. I did!" she insisted when he lifted his eyebrows dubiously. "Ask Shawn! I spent an hour today working on it!"

"At one time?"

He had her there. Groaning, she picked up her bag and turned to go back to the locker room. His laugh followed her up, and when she came back down a few moments later he was waiting with a smug smile. Gathering her hair into a ponytail, she walked with him to the empty ring on the far side of the practice room. "Why do you torture me?"

"Hey, you want to be the best, right?" he asked, hopping up onto the apron.

"At the moment I'll settle for second-best," she muttered.

"That's quitter talk. Come on." He gallantly held the ropes open so she could climb into the ring. "Fear not the man who has practiced ten thousand moves once, fear the man who has practiced one move ten thousand times."

"That's a misquote."

"It still holds credence. Show me what you got, Mermaid."

She stretched for a few moments, then launched into running the ropes with him. It was still a marvel to her that, of all people, he had decided to mentor her. She had started wrestling on a whim, practically on a dare. Somehow, all the stars had aligned in her favor for once and she had been signed to the company after her first tryout. Because, miraculously, she was good at this. She, who'd never been remotely athletic after stopping gymnastics at the age of eight.

Even more miraculously, people seemed to like her. Sometimes she had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. She'd pinched her arm repeatedly the day before she had made her NXT debut, and still expected to wake up in her old bed at home.

She landed on the canvas with a hiss. Knowing what Adam would say if she didn't, she rolled onto her back nipped up quickly and waited for him to hop to his feet.

"Keep your eye on your landing," he said, wiping sweat from his brow with his forearm. He smiled and reached for her hand. "You're doing great, kid. What are you doing over the weekend?"

"I'm not coming in to work on my enzuigiri," she warned after giving his hand a shake.

"No," he laughed once they'd climbed out of the ring. He reached for his water and tossed her hers.

She waited until after she'd taken a sip before speaking. "It's my first real weekend off in months. I'm staying home and being lazy."

"Me and Britt are having some friends over tomorrow."

"Oh, no." Serena began shaking her head. "No, Adam."

"Britt wants you to meet—"

"No!"

"Don't let her matchmaking keep you from coming over and having fun." He sighed. "Look, I know the last three—"

"Four," she corrected.

"Four times were utter failures. But still, come over and hang out? It'll be steaks and you can jump in the pool." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And I kind of already told her you said you'd come."

Serena narrowed her eyes. "When did she make these plans?"

"A day or two ago…" Adam cleared his throat. "Monday…"

"Son-of-a… Who does she want me to meet?"

"It doesn't matter. Look, you've been working your ass off. And I know when you're not here you're holed up in your apartment. C'mon, just come out and have some fun. I'll keep her from throwing men in your path."

"Y'know, when you offered to give me extra help, you forgot to mention that you and your girlfriend would constantly be trying to hook me up with your friends." Serena heaved a sigh at the sight of his hangdog expression. "Fine, I'll come. But only for steaks and the pool and some socialization. But if I hear the words 'you have to meet' I'm leaving."

"Of course." He began to smile. "Tomorrow. Around five?"

"Casual?"

"You know it."

"I don't like you much right now," she informed him.

"Hey, this is all Britt's doing, not mine!"

"Why do I get the feeling you're not a hundred percent innocent?"

"Because you're a suspicious person, Mermaid."

"See you tomorrow, Cole Slaw," she promised with a shake of her head. Before she stepped away, though, she reared back to look at him again. "Just how many people will be at this shindig?"

"A few," he said, his smile too wide for her liking.

"Eight? Ten? Twenty?"

"Not twenty… A few," he said again. "See you tomorrow?"

Rolling her eyes, she considered telling him that no, he wouldn't. That she would stick to her original plans of staying in her apartment and being as lazy as humanly possible. But, she thought with a groan, she couldn't. For whatever reason, Adam and Britt had befriended her shortly after she started working at the Performance Center, and she was extremely grateful for their friendship. It made her homesickness a little less intense, knowing she had them to turn to. With a sigh, she nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow."

***

He was fastening the buttons of his new shirt when the realization struck.

"Goddammit, what the fucking hell," he groused, unbuttoning the shirt with a scowl. Despite his decision to not go, he was getting dressed. And, damn it all to hell, he had been dressing with care. He glared down at his boots and flung the shirt onto the bed. He refused to dress as though to impress whoever it was Britt wanted him to meet. It was casual, right? So why had he chosen his best jeans?

Still cussing under his breath he took it all off. Had his favorite old jeans pulled up when he caught his reflection in the mirror. With another scowl he raked the hair he'd spent twenty minutes fussing with into a bun and fastened it with a band before buttoning his jeans and yanking a t-shirt out the drawer.

He didn't want to go. But he pulled the shirt on and threaded his belt through the loops of his jeans.

He knew what was going to happen. He knew how it was going to end. But he gathered the spare clothes Britt had told him to bring and dug out his swim trunks.

And he grabbed the new bottle of whiskey on his way out the door.

His suspicions were raised when he pulled up to Britt and Cole's and saw only one strange car parked. He checked the time and saw that it was after five. Dragging a hand over his face he considered driving off and going back to his place. But just as he reached to put his truck in gear he saw the front door open and then Cole was waving.

And, damn it, he couldn't leave now.

Cole greeted him with an ice-cold beer and a warm smile. "Hey, man."

Adam took a grateful swig as he stepped inside, and handed over the whiskey. "Where's Britt?"

"Working on part of dinner. C'mon, we'll go chill out back." Cole led the way through the back of the house, and Adam made sure to poke his head into the kitchen to greet Britt before stepping out on the patio.

Halfway through his beer and several minutes into safe conversation, he couldn't stand it. "Alright, who is she?"

"Who?"

Adam squinted at his old friend. "Britt wants me to meet her. But she was overselling the fact that she just wants us to be friends. So, who is she? And if she's so great, why haven't I met her already?"

Cole sighed. "It's Serena. And look, this is all Britt's idea, not mine."

Adam took a swig of beer and nodded. He knew of her. Had checked out some of her work in NXT. "I'm sick of being forced into a double date, Cole."

"I know, I know. And I was gonna invite some others, but… Britt thinks her plan is perfect and that if she stresses that she doesn't want you to be romantically involved that… She just wants you to be happy."

"Jesus Christ," Adam laughed bitterly. "Am I that fucking depressing?"

"No!" His friend's voice was vehement. "You deserve happiness, Page."

"I'm happy," he ground out.

"Are you?" Cole asked softly.

Adam drained his beer and slung the bottle into the recycling bin at the corner of the patio. "Yes. I'm happy."

"Are y'all having boy talk out here, Cole Slaw?"

He turned at the soft voice that spoke from the doorway. Blinked at the sight of neon pink hair tumbling over a shoulder and a hand holding two bottles of beer. Clearing his throat, he looked to Adam. "Cole Slaw?"

"She hates me," Cole sighed.

"He loves it," she insisted, stepping out onto the patio. Her smile was friendly as she approached, and she lifted the beers in greeting. "Introduce me?"

"Serena, Adam Page. Adam, Serena Parker."

"Pleased to meet you," Adam said automatically, extending his hand.

"Likewise." Her hand was cool from her beer, but her handshake was firm.

"I'll just go see if Britt needs help," Cole announced before slipping away.

Adam watched him retreat, shaking his head in disbelief. "Un-fucking-believable."

"Here," she said, thrusting a beer into his hands. "You look like you could use it."

He accepted it with a nod and wrenched the cap off. Waited until they'd sipped in silence for several long moments before sighing. "You know what they're doing, don't you?"

"I knew the minute Cole invited me," she murmured. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," he promised. He could feel eyes watching them through the window and nearly threw up his middle finger. Instead, he gestured to the pool. "You going in?"

"In a bit." She glanced over her shoulder, then looked back at him with a rueful grin. "Let's walk."

"I'm sorry they dragged you into this," he said once they'd left the patio. He didn't know why he felt the need to apologize. It wasn't his fault. Not really. "They've got it in their head that—"

"You need a partner?" she finished. "Same. It's really getting on my nerves."

He felt a surge of relief. "Really? I almost left when I realized she'd lied about having a few people over."

"I almost didn't come," she admitted. "But…"

"They're your friends and you don't want to be mean," he finished softly.

"Exactly. But god, they get on my tits. Any single man they know is perfect for me. Because, you know, a woman can't just be single and enjoying life unless she's got a man."

"Fuck, they're brutal," he agreed, relaxing slightly when it became apparent that she wasn't angling for something more than casual conversation. "I don't get it."

"Me either! Just because we're single doesn't mean we have to be thrust together," Serena proclaimed. "It's ridiculous. I don't get why once people get in a relationship they think everyone needs to be in one."

"It's like they don't think two people can just be friends." Adam smiled and took a swig of beer.

"I mean, yeah, having a partner is nice. But it's not the be-all end-all of life." She stopped at the pool and kicked off one sandal so she could trail her toes in the water.

"It should happen organically," he said.

"Yes. Not because someone thinks I'm perfect for someone or vice versa." She flicked water from her toes and turned to face him. Her smile was almost contagious. "So now we know that neither of us want to hook up just because Britt and Cole think we'd be good together."

"Absolutely," he agreed with a nod. "Want to tell them we aren't compatible?"

"No…" She shook her head vigorously, and bright pink waves caught the sunlight. "We don't tell them a thing. Let them wonder."

"You, Serena Parker, are a wise woman," he decided with a grin.

She raised her bottle and clinked it against his. "I'll fucking drink to that!"

---

#hangman page imagine #hangman page fanfiction #hangman adam page #aew fanfiction #ALL ASHLEY'S FAULT #my fics #multipart:BITN

[champhangman]

Bleed Into the Night

Title: Bleed Into the Night Part: Three / ? Characters: Hangman Adam Page x OFC Summary: She wasn’t looking. Neither was he. For a brief flash, they found each other. Word Count: 11,138 Warnings: Alcohol use. Mild cursing. Previous: Part One  | Part Two

Tagging: @adampage / @cowboyshit / @baysexuality / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy /  @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch / 

-----

At first, it was easy. Adam didn't have to put too much thought into pretending to date Serena. When he opened Twitter and saw things she had posted, it wasn't difficult to like the post and keep going. When Britt asked him backstage, barely a week after he'd met Serena, if they'd gone on their first date yet, he was able to shake his head and tell her they were waiting for their schedules to mesh. And he was busy with work. He went to a toy convention to see the action figures that would be released in the fall. The next day he, Kenny, Nick, and Matt filmed a commercial for the figures. And it seemed that every day there were more and more media interviews to do. Podcasts to appear on. Not to mention he was just getting into the groove of shows on weekends. He was busier than he had been in years.

His sole interaction with Serena that wasn't on social media that first week was a late-night text to make sure they were really going through with the plan. She hadn't replied until the next morning, telling him that yes, they were. Ten minutes later she had texted again to let him know that Cole was trying to talk her into going to the AEW pay-per-view next month, since Cole would be accompanying Britt.

He didn't know how that would work. Surely NXT was putting a show on the same night? He messaged her to let him know if she was coming so he could see to it she got the proper VIP treatment.

And had received no reply.

After two weeks, he began to feel that just saying they were going to go out at some point was enough. Britt hadn't cornered him or pestered him anymore, merely asking if he'd talked to Serena lately. She seemed satisfied with his lie that they talked nearly every day, but when he told her that they were both too busy to have a date she looked skeptical.

Watching her walk away to sit at a table in catering, he heaved a sigh and pulled out his phone. This was bullshit. If he was going to fake date someone he would at least like to, if not literally go on a date, talk to them occasionally. What was the point of having a woman pretending to go out with him if he couldn't fucking talk to her?

Pulling up Serena's info, he hit the call button and made his way to an empty table.

"Hello?"

"Hey," he greeted. Remembering that he wasn't supposed like her, he wondered why the fuck he'd called her. But it was too late to hang up. "You busy?"

"I just finished up at the PC. What's up?"

"I was just checking in. Haven't talked to you today," he said, aware of Britt watching him.

"Oh," Serena said, dragging the syllable out. "Sorry about that. I've been busy."

"I know. Me too." He picked at the label on his bottle of water. "What were you doing at the PC? Working on your enzuigiri?"

"Fuck that move," she muttered. "No, today was promo work."

"How's your promo?"

"Abysmal." She sighed. "Hang on a second."

Adam took a sip of water, halfway listening as she spoke to someone about the show that night. Her promo was abysmal? He wondered why. He knew that company tended to script a promo down to breaths and pauses. Would she do better if given free reign? She was saying she was excited to wear her new gear and he sat back with a soft grunt. He had no idea what her gear looked like.

He had no idea what her wrestling was like. Yeah, he'd seen her a couple of times when he'd watched NXT. But truth be told, he'd only seen the ending of her matches. He was sure he remembered a powerbomb. But nothing else. And not even the vaguest memory of what her gear had looked out.

What a shitty fake boyfriend he was turning out to be.

"Sorry, what were we talking about?"

"Your promo."

"Ugh," she groaned. "They had me practicing babyface skills and do you know what?"

"What?" Was she a babyface? Or a heel? How could he not know anything about her career? Other than what she'd shared when they'd been in the pool, which hadn't been much. In fact, except for saying she'd been so nervous she'd thrown up before her first televised match, she hadn't mentioned WWE or NXT at all. No, she'd said that she'd applied and tried out for the hell of it and still couldn't believed she'd been signed. And what little bit he'd seen of her work hadn't been enough to know anything about her character.

"I am not cut out to be a babyface."

"No? I thought you just radiated sweetness and light," he teased. Because it was easy to tease her. He had only spent a few hours in her company, but he could imagine her eyes rolling. He liked teasing her, he decided when her reluctant laugh rang in his ear.

"Right now I'm radiating sweat because my car is hotter than the inner circle of hell. And I thought you were the sweetheart?"

"Yes, ma'am," he allowed. When she didn't reply, he pulled his phone from his ear to make sure the call hadn't been dropped. "…You still with me?"

"Yeah…"

"Where's the show tonight?" he asked after a moment.

She cleared her throat. "Jacksonville. I'm about to head that way now. Are you working tonight? Shit… I should know that, shouldn't I?"

"It's fine." He wasn't about to admit that he only knew she was working because he'd overheard her saying so. "We're in Jacksonville too."

"Ooh, competition," she cooed. "I'm surprised Cole didn't tell me."

"Yeah, Britt didn't tell me, either." Adam glanced over to the woman, but she was walking out of catering. At the door, she glanced back and gave him a smirk. What the hell—

"We're such dumbasses!" Serena suddenly yelped.

Adam rubbed his chin. "I'm not gonna disagree, but why?"

"They probably assume we both already know. Duh," she snorted. "We're supposed to be talking practically every day. Of course we'd know. Which means—"

"Yep." Adam lightly banged his fist against his forehead. He knew exactly what it meant. He bumped his forehead harder, as though to punish his brain for being so fucking stupid. For thinking that this would be even remotely easy. That explained Britt's face when he'd said they were still looking for a good time to go out. "Shit."

"It'll be weird if we don't."

He didn't have to ask what she meant. He already knew. And he couldn't ask her the question because the whole point of this bullshit ruse was that he didn't have to ask her. He almost drove his fist against his skull harder but stopped, dropping his hand to his thigh with a loud slap. "Fuck."

"No, no, we're smart. We can figure this out."

"You just said we're dumbasses," he reminded her, standing and carrying his empty bottle to the trashcan. Nodding in greeting to Matt, he headed in the direction of the locker room. "You could just come to my apartment?"

"And let everyone think we're having sex?"

He pulled the phone away and scowled. Did she have to sound like the idea was repulsive? "You got a better idea?"

"I think my hotel has a bar."

"Okay?"

"Then we can meet there."

And do what, exactly? Sit there and drink? He could do that on his own. He sighed. "Yeah, sure."

"We could go to a different bar," she suggested. "Unless you can come up with something else."

His mind went blank. He'd spent enough time in the city to know places to visit after a show. Had gone to several with his friends. And yet he couldn't think of one place they could go for their non-date. "I'll figure something out," he finally said. "Text me your hotel."

"Why?"

"So I can pick you up."

"Oh right. Southern gentleman." He heard a rustling, then the monotonous chime that meant a car door was open. "Sure. I'm about to get gas then hit the road, I'll text you before I leave here."

"I thought they got vans or buses when y'all were in Florida."

"I prefer to drive myself. And it's only a couple of hours."

"Not taking it slow today, huh?" he asked, smiling as he remembered their chat about drive times. He leaned against the wall outside the locker room, glancing up when Nick came to the door.

"I'm not on my own schedule so I can't," Serena said.

"Hey, we're ready to do that bit when you are," Nick told him.

Then the bastard stood there. Waiting.

"I gotta go," he muttered into the phone. "I'll see you tonight."

"I'll text you," she promised before the call ended.

Adam used the hem of his t-shirt to polish the screen before sliding his phone into his pocket. Feeling Nick's inquisitive gaze, he reached to run his fingers through his hair. And, when Nick didn't speak, he sighed. "What?"

"Who are you seeing tonight?"

Shit. "Um… Lots of people?"

Nick rolled his eyes.

"Britt introduced me to someone," Adam said. "We're going to meet up after the show."

Nick's lips parted, and Adam knew he was about to say Again? But he closed his mouth and nodded. "Is she coming to the show?"

"Nah, she's gotta work." He felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Two short vibrations to let him know he'd received two texts. Predicting they were from Serena, he didn't bother checking.

"What's she do?"

"She's with NXT."

"Yeah? Wrestler?"

"Yeah. Her name's Serena."

Nick shook his head. "I've heard the name but I'm not familiar with her."

Neither was he. He really needed to remedy that. It would at least give them something to talk about during their date that wasn't a date. Pushing away from the wall, he followed Nick into the locker room. He was surprised to see it empty. He pulled off his shirt and moved to get the one he was supposed to wear for the bit. "We met a couple weeks ago. We haven't been able to get together yet. They're in town for a show tonight, so…"

"Where are you taking her?"

"I don't have a fucking clue," he admitted. "Still trying to figure that out."

"I'm sure something will come to you," Nick assured him. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

A short while later he returned to the locker room and dropped onto the couch to relax for a bit before the chaos of the show started. Settling back, he reached for his phone to see the texts from Serena. Making note of her hotel, he propped his feet on the arm of the couch while the others milled around. He barely heard their discussions about that night's matches, merch sales, and everything else as he checked his social media. Twitter was calm for the moment, though he noted some more people had commented on his and Serena's tweets.

Apparently, fans were shipping them. Whatever the fuck that meant.

He moved to Instagram and pulled up her account. His thumb swiped the screen, scrolling past her most recent posts. He stopped randomly and tapped on the photo his thumb was hovering over, eyebrows lifting at the sight of her with teal hair. He wondered why she didn't keep her hair its natural hue. Eyes scanning the caption while Kenny, Nick, and Matt continued to chatter around him, he chuckled.

I'm an f'n mermaid. Trading in my wrestling boots for a fin ASAP!

He instinctively double-tapped the screen, then muttered a curse under his breath when he realized he'd done so. He almost unliked it then shrugged. It wasn't as though he'd gone to a picture she'd posted eight years before. Backing out to her profile, he scrolled towards her more recent pictures. There weren't, he saw, many pictures of her. She seemed to love sunsets and even as he tucked that nugget of information away for later, he wondered why he deemed it important. She also posted a lot of pictures of a cactus in a window. When he finally saw her face again he stopped to open the post, snorting softly at the sight of her standing next to a proud-looking Triple H. it must have been after her debut on NXT. He liked it then went through more and was taking a sip of his drink when he saw her most recent post.

It had been taken at Britt and Cole's. He immediately recognized the patio table with the spread of food, and the twinkling fairy lights above it. And there she was, back to the scene, her pink hair wet and messy, her lips tilted in a secret smile.

Damn, she was pretty. He let himself admire the dimple in her left cheek, then studied the rest of the picture, smiling when he recognized himself in the background, laughing. She must have taken it right before they sat down to eat. What had he been laughing at? He couldn't remember.

He just remembered that he hadn't laughed so much in a long time.

His gaze dipped to read the caption and he felt his lips tug into a smile.

Good times. Good friends. Good food. Good beginning?

"What's got you grinning?"

Adam jerked his head up to find his three friends looking at him, each with a mixture of amusement and confusion on their face. He grunted as water splashed from the bottle and onto his chest and sat upright. "Huh?"

"We've been talking to you for like ten minutes," Nick said. He looked the least confused.

No they hadn't. Adam hadn't even been in the room for ten minutes. Had he? Looking to his phone to check the time, he saw with irritation that an hour had slipped by. He hadn't been on her Instagram that long, had he? Surely not. Matt or Nick would have begun kicking him if he'd ignored them for so long. "What?"

"Who is she?" Matt asked.

A small part of him was surprised that Nick hadn't already blabbed. No, he shouldn't be surprised. Nick didn't blab. He didn't share things that weren't work-related unless he was specifically told he could. One of many reasons why Adam appreciated having him as a friend. Brushing the water from his chest, he looked to Matt warily. "How do you know it's a she?"

"I can see the picture, dumbass."

Oh. Fuck. He looked to his phone. "Oh. Right. That's Serena."

"She's very pretty," Kenny commented.

"Thanks." Adam screwed up his face. Thanks? Like he had anything to do with her attractiveness. "I mean, yeah, she is."

"Who is she?" Matt asked again, snapping his gum.

"I just told you," Adam said slowly.

"Lay off, Matt." This from Nick, who'd leaned to get a look at the photo. Leaning back, he smiled. "She is pretty."

"Britt and Cole introduced us," Adam explained to Matt with a sigh. "We're going out tonight."

"She coming to the show?" Matt's eyebrows raised.

"No. She's got to work. She's with NXT. Yes, she's a wrestler. We just met a couple weeks ago and haven't had a chance to go out yet. No, I don't know where I'm taking her, but I'll figure it out. Any more questions?"

"Can we meet her?" Nick asked with a smile.

"Fuck no."

"We'll be nice," Matt promised.

"Double fuck no." Pretend or not, if he introduced her to the clowns he called his friends, she would run for the hills. Or at least call for an Uber. God, just the idea… Well, he supposed Kenny wouldn't scare her off. But the doofuses asking to meet her? They would pester the fuck out of her. They'd ask her a million questions as though interviewing her for some extremely sensitive job. Matt, aggressively chomping his gum and firing off questions faster than she could answer, his manic energy in every word. Nick, watching her with that speculative gaze that unnerved people who didn't know him. He almost shuddered.

"C'mon, we want to meet her."

"No."

"Please?"

"If I say yes will you shut the hell up?"

"Yeah."

"Then yes. But also no."

"What's wrong with us?" Matt demanded.

"What isn't wrong with you?" Adam retorted.

"I'm offended," Matt gasped, clapping a hand over his chest. "You're ashamed of us, aren't you?"

"When it comes to this sort of shit? Yeah," he admitted. He looked down at his phone, made sure to like the picture, the locked it and shoved it into his pocket while he rose to his feet.

Matt's demeanor shifted to somewhat normal. "You really don't want your girlfriend to meet us?"

"She's not my girlfriend," he said quickly.

"Your soon-to-be girlfriend, then."

"She's not that either. She's…" Not interested in me at all and this is all a farce. Hah! Ain't that some shit? He tried to picture what their reaction would be. But all he could see was them as they were now. Kenny, interested but calm. Matt, eyes wide and anticipating an answer. Nick, a smile pulling on his lips.

"It's too early to say what she is," he finally managed. "We've only talked a few times—" Lies. "And… I don't know, man. She seems cool."

"Cool," Nick repeated, and Adam didn't know if he was questioning Adam's summation of Serena or just agreeing with him.

"So when do we get to meet her?" Matt demanded.

"Never," Adam muttered.

They continued to pester him the rest of the afternoon. Matt had questions, as always. Nick, too, but to a lesser extent. Kenny's only question was had Adam decided where he was taking her after the show.

"Not a fucking clue," Adam groaned while lacing up his boots.

His phone chimed behind him on the bench but he ignored it.

"Well you have to think of something," Kenny pointed out, reaching behind Adam. He chuckled. "Heart eyes?"

"What." Adam snapped upright so quickly his head swam. "Heart eyes?"

"Serena. Heart eyes. Heart eyes."

It was then that he saw Kenny was holding his phone. "Huh," he chuckled nervously, taking the phone and sitting down. He didn't know whether to tell Kenny she had done it or let the man assume he'd done it himself. But he was distracted by the message she had sent him.

Just got to the venue and it has been decided for me that I'm coming with Cole to Daily's. Told him I was leaving our date up to you and if you don't have something we're going bar hopping with him and Britt.

"Fuck me," he groaned.

"Bad news?"

"Not bad. Not good, either. But not bad." Just the worst.

"Come on. It's not the end of the world, is it?"

"No, no, it's fine," he murmured, hunching forward to compose a reply.

Bar hopping? I don't know. I was thinking just one bar. There's a little honkytonk I know that has karaoke on weekends if you're into that. I don't sing but it's a nice little place.

Her reply was quick. That sounds fun. You don't sing? Shame. I do. Will they kick me out if I don't wear cowboy boots?

He chuckled. She'd look cute in… No, no, he couldn't allow his thoughts to stray in that direction, no matter how enticing the idea. No, you can wear whatever. They might kick you out if you don't practice your enzuigiri though.

Just for that, I'm gonna make you sing tonight.

Oh no.

What had he gotten himself into?

***

What had she gotten herself into?

It had seemed so easy. Serena would drive Cole over to Daily’s, he and Britt would go off and do their thing, and she and Adam could leave to do… Whatever they were going to do. Simple. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, as her niece would say. She hadn't paid attention to Cole's threat of bar hopping. A nice little honkytonk sounded fun, and Cole wasn't into karaoke. It would all be fine. Right?

Wrong.

As it turned out, Britt was into karaoke. And wouldn't it just be so much fun for them to make it a double date? Cole didn't care as long as he could have a few drinks with his beloved.

Standing outside her car, Serena looked to Adam for help. It was already too late, though, because Britt was asking someone if they would take her and Cole's luggage to the hotel. Adam sent her an apologetic look, and damn the man for looking so adorably sorry that she couldn't be irritated with him. Not that it was his fault, anyway.

"You can put your stuff in the back," she said, hitting the button on her key fob to open the trunk. She moved to the back of the car, lifting an eyebrow at the sound of clinking when he placed his backpack on the ground.

"Tag team belt," he explained before slinging his suitcase into the trunk. He set the backpack next to it and closed the trunk with more force than necessary. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, I slam it all the time."

"No, not that—Well, yeah, that too," he corrected. "I mean about them."

She shrugged. It was done now. She supposed they could be sneaky and leave before Britt and Cole made it back to the car, but she didn't relish their complaints if they did so. "How was the show?"

His smile was brighter than the lights illuminating the parking lot. "We tore it down."

"You and Omega are the tag champs, right?" She shrugged again when he looked to her. "I Googled you."

"Yeah, we're the champs." He looked over to the group of people that Cole and Britt were chatting with. "Do you know him?"

"No. Cole talks about him a lot, though."

"You want to meet him?"

"Meet him?"

"C'mon, he won't bite." Adam hesitated. "Unless you ask nicely."

The breeze carried her laugh away as she walked with him towards the group. Her steps faltered when she saw every head swivel to watch their approach and she tugged at Adam's sleeve. "You said Omega, not the whole damn roster…"

"It's not the whole roster," he promised. "Just don't let Nick and Matt intimidate you."

"Nick and Matt?" she echoed, but he'd already planted his hand at the small of her back and propelled her forward.

"New blood! New blood!"

"Man, chill, you know that's Cole's protégé!"

"Marq and Isiah," Adam said with a smile, nudging her forward a couple of more steps. "Guys, this is Serena."

One second, she was standing with Adam. The next she was being tugged into a welcoming hug by Marq – or was it Isiah? – and greeted excitedly. She could have sworn one of them said he'd heard a lot about her. From Adam? She glanced to him, saw his quick shrug, then turned back to the two men. "Hi," she greeted, reaching to push her hair behind her ear. "Nice to meet you."

They were fun and lively and brimming with youthful energy, and after two minutes of chatting she felt as if she'd known them for years. It was impossible not to smile while talking to them. Promising to come to a show to see them in action soon, she felt almost dizzy when they departed.

"Serena," a gentle voice greeted. She turned and, recognizing the man, smiled.

"Kenny. You've heard a lot about me too?" she guessed.

"Enough to know that you need to work on your—"

"Don't say the word," she begged, slipping her hand into his for a brief shake. "It causes flashbacks."

"Perhaps you need a better teacher?" Kenny suggested.

"Hey!" Cole protested.

"He acts like he's my teacher." Feeling a gentle hand on her back, she knew without looking that it was Adam. She wasn't sure how she knew and decided to not ponder that at the moment, instead smiling up at Kenny. "When he's really just my self-appointed brother, determined to make my life a living hell."

"Doesn't he do that to everyone?"

"Fuck you," Cole said, giving Kenny a light shove. Then he glared at Serena. "And fuck you, too."

"He always comes out with the 'fuck you' when he knows he can't defend the statement," Kenny said in an aside.

"But he'll keep trying," Serena sighed.

"You're goddamn right he will." Kenny's smile was pleasant. "It was great meeting you, Serena. I'll see you soon."

She watched him walk off, then turned to face Adam. His hand was still on her back, and she swallowed as her movement caused his arm to wrap around her. She lightly tapped his chest. "I think—"

"Cole! We didn't know you were coming!"

Serena watched Adam's face slide from easygoing to annoyed in half a second. She heard Cole say that he'd tagged along with her and could have sworn that Adam winced as the man who'd called to Cole spoke again.

"Serena? She's here?"

She turned at that and saw two men approaching. Recognizing them, she lifted her hand in a wave. Adam's fingers curled against her back and she thought she heard him mutter several curses under his breath. About to turn to ask what was wrong, she instead took a tiny step back when the men's faces split into wide grins.

"Oh, fuck," Adam muttered. Then, with a sigh, he said, "I'm so sorry."

"Why? What's wrong?" Confused, she looked to the two men. "Hi?"

"I didn't think he'd actually let us meet you."

"I thought for sure he'd never bring you close to us."

She blanked on their names. She knew they were the Young Bucks but had never paid enough attention to their looks to know which was which. The one on her right was just an inch or two shorter than the other, his thinly bearded jaw working furiously on the gum he was chewing. The one to the left regarded her with a faint smile, though she couldn't shake the feeling that he was inspecting her. Suddenly self-conscious, she took another small step back and looked from one to the other. "Why wouldn't he bring me close to you?"

"He's ashamed of us," the gum chewer sighed with a dramatic roll of his eyes. "Thinks we'll scare you off."

"Which is crazy, because we're two of the nicest people on the planet," his brother assured her.

"It's been my experience that people who brag about their niceness have a tendency to be assholes," she said without thinking. Grateful when they burst into laughter, she felt herself relax. And noticed that Adam's hand was still firmly on her back. As though prepared to haul her away from them.

"I'm Matt." The gum chewing ceased for two seconds. "And I have a feeling we're going to become the best of friends."

"Nick." He extended his hand with a warm, welcoming smile. "I promise, I try my best not to be an asshole."

Matt's eyes lit up. "So, where are you two headed?"

Serena faltered. "Oh. I, um. I—"

"We're going for a drink," Adam cut in.

"Really? Where? We might drop in."

"Adam said something about a honkytonk with karaoke?" Serena offered. Glancing down, she saw that she and Nick were still clasping hands and gently pulled hers away.

"The place we went to last time?" Matt asked Adam.

She watched his face as he processed the question. Felt his heavy sigh before he nodded. "But I don't—"

"We love karaoke!" Matt exclaimed. "Don't we, Nick?"

"You love karaoke. I love watching you make an idiot of yourself," Nick corrected. His blue eyes swiveled to Serena again. "He's always doing it, which means I'm always having a good time."

"You don't sing?" she asked.

"Only when no one can hear me," he laughed. "And when I'm far away from dogs and children."

"That bad?"

"Worse."

"I love to sing, but I don't know that I'm good. I don't even care if I'm good. I just like having fun. Like I know I'm a terrible dancer but that doesn't stop me from putting on shows for my houseplants when I'm home…" She was rambling. She forced herself to stop and looked at Adam, saw this his annoyance appeared to have eased. When he caught her looking at him, his lips tipped into a small smile. She felt his fingers relax and was surprised when his thumb began to lightly stroke. Probably an involuntary movement, she told herself. She gave the hem of his t-shirt a gentle tug and smiled up at him. She wanted to ask him if he'd mind of Matt and Nick went to the bar with them, since it was obvious that Cole and Britt would be tagging along. A group thing would be easier, right? There would be other people to talk to. He wouldn't have to feel obligated to talk to her much.

Or maybe he wanted to talk to her?

His fingers squeezed at her back. "We better get going. Don't wanna miss last call."

"Definitely not," she agreed, looking to Matt and Nick. "Great meeting you."

"You, too," they said in unison.

"They're nice," she said as she and Adam walked away.

"Yeah?" he sounded doubtful.

"Do they usually embarrass you?"

"More than you'd think," he admitted. He dipped his head so he could speak lower. "You want to try to leave without Cole and Britt?"

She sneaked a glance over her shoulder and saw that Cole was in deep conversation with Nick and Matt. "You think we can?"

"Don't say anything," he murmured. "We'll sneak away."

"Do you want to drive?" she asked softly when they reached the car. "Since you know where it is?"

While she passed him the keys and they climbed in, she kept expecting to hear Britt or Cole call out to them. They didn't, though, not even during the long while it took Adam to get the seat adjusted for his height. She sneaked another glance as she closed the door, and her sigh of relief mirrored his.

"Did you sneak out a lot when you were a kid?" she asked once he'd started the engine.

"Didn't really have to sneak out. I had to sneak back in a lot, though," he said with a chuckle. Planting his hand on the back of her seat, he turned to watch as he reversed the car.

"How do you sneak in?" She had to ask. Talking took her mind off the aroma of his cologne and the fact that her car suddenly seemed tiny.

"I grew up in the country, you know? So sneaking in meant I turned the headlights and engine off about a mile from the house and I would coast up the path. I always drove my dad's old truck and it coasted like a dream." His sigh was reminiscent. He waved to the security guard at the parking lot exit. "Mama locked all the doors at midnight, so I'd have to climb the tree at the back of the house and slip in the upstairs bathroom window because it was the only one without a lock. I only got caught once, and I was able to lie my ass off and swear I was in my room the whole time and was getting ready to take a shower. I don't think Mama believed me but she didn't catch me coming in the window, so I was safe."

"Why did you have to turn the headlights off?" She was enthralled. It sounded like something out of some stupid teen movie, but coming from him, it was believable in its ridiculousness. And so different from when she had missed curfew as a teen.

"So my brother wouldn't see them through the window and tattle on me. And I coasted because Dad's old dog would bark his head off if he heard an engine."

"He didn't bark if he heard the door shut?"

"Oh I just climbed out the window. Caught hell for leaving it down when it rained one night, but I was young and stupid." He stopped for the red light and looked at her. "Didn't you grow up in the country?"

"I grew up outside of Modesto."

"Britt told me you're from Montana."

"I was born there, but my parents moved to California when I was three."

"So you do have country roots."

"I don't remember it, so they're flimsy roots," she decided with a roll of her eyes. "I didn't learn how to coast a mile down the road and shimmy up a tree if I got home past curfew."

"What happened if you missed curfew?"

"Mom would call my cell phone to check on me. And she'd wait up until I got home." Serena smiled at the thought of her mother. She really needed to spend her days off with her parents. She missed the comfort of her family.

"I had a cell but I was always so deep in the sticks the signal wouldn't reach."

She opened her mouth to ask more about where he'd grown up. The only thing she knew about Virginia was what she'd seen of Richmond and Norfolk when going to shows. She had an inkling that his hometown was a far cry from either of those cities. Drawing in a breath, she grunted when her cell phone began to ring.

"How much you want to bet that's Britt?" Adam asked.

"It could be Cole," she pointed out, leaning to retrieve it from the cupholder. Turning to see the screen, she huffed. "You win."

"Knew I should've made you bet," he muttered. "Are you gonna answer?"

Serena looked at the screen for several seconds. Adam had told the Bucks where they were going. No matter what, Britt and Cole would show up. She concluded that she could handle Britt's irritation better once she had a drink or two and rejected the call, then silenced her phone.

"Now she's gonna call me," Adam told her.

"Are you gonna answer?" she asked, snorting as his phone began to vibrate on the console between them.

"Hell no."

"Good boy."

He turned his head slowly to look at her, and she saw his lips twitching into a small, pleased smile. His tongue darted over his lips before he looked forward, his breath exhaling in a stuttered rush.

He liked being called a good boy. Interesting, she thought, tilting her head so she looked out the window instead of at him. Wondering why, without warning, she felt a stab of desire.

***

A reedy voice was murdering a pop song when they entered the bar. Adam glanced around the barroom and motioned to a table almost in the corner, close to the bar. When Serena nodded, he slipped his hand to the small of her back to guide her in that direction, lifting his chin in greeting when he spotted a couple of familiar faces.

Just as they got their drinks and he was thinking of what to say, he heard a familiar voice from the entrance. Not wanting to be obvious, he glanced over while taking a sip of his beer, lowering the mug with a sigh. "They found us."

Her back was to the door, and she obviously didn't want to be obvious either. "Which they?"

He watched over her shoulder as the group of people entering grew. "Britt. Cole. Matt. Nick. Brandon. Cash and Dax."

"Do they see us?"

They were impossible to miss, what with her neon pink hair glowing like a beacon in the soft lighting. The thought had just crossed his mind when Britt's eyes landed on them. She waved, even though he wasn't looking directly at her, and they began to descend upon their table. "Yeah, they see us."

There was noise and commotion as the empty table next to theirs was dragged over to make more room. Chairs screeched across the floor in a way that made Adam cringe, and the weary-looking server approached with dread. He frowned against he rim of his mug when everyone squeezed in between him and Serena, then decided that he didn't mind. Until he saw Nick leaning in to speak with her. He wondered what he said to make her smile like that. It lit up her face, and even from across the way he could see her dimple.

The weary server returned with drinks, plunked a fresh beer in front of Adam, and smiled when Brandon thanked her sweetly. Conversations began to rise and fall around him, and he joined in when directly spoken to, the questions he had thought to ask Serena falling to the back of his mind.

What the hell were they talking about? Their heads were close together and he could see from the way Nick's hands were moving that they were discussing something important. Serena was nodding. Smiling. And when Nick's hand made a slicing motion through the air she began to laugh.

A foot slammed against his leg and he jerked up, glaring in the direction it had come from. Britt tilted her head to the side, eyes questioning, then announced she was going to sing. Some of the group at the table called out requests as she crossed to the small stage. Moments later a slow song began and there were several groans from his friends when she began to sing a love song.

"Leave her alone," Cole said, raising his voice so they could all hear him. "I'm the reason she sings love songs these days."

That only made the chorus of groans grow louder. Adam joined in, because tormenting Cole was fun, and was sliding into Britt's empty seat so he and his friend could bullshit when movement across the table caught his eye.

Nick was standing. Then Serena was, too. And then, with the barest of glances towards him, she took Nick's outstretched hand and let him lead her to the little dance floor.

Five heads turned to look at Adam, with varying degrees of puzzlement.

All he could do was shrug. So she wanted to dance with Nick. What was it to him? It wasn't like he wanted to dance. Not to the overly sweet, sappy song that Britt was crooning.

"What the hell, man?" Cole asked once conversation had resumed around them.

Adam shrugged again. "Not like I dance, Cole."

"Still."

"It's not that big a deal."

But, he thought when Cole shrugged and began talking about work, it felt like somewhat of a deal. Even if this whole thing wasn't real, it stung a little to see her obviously having fun with another man. He lifted his drink, intending to take a small sip, only to gulp it down when he glanced over and saw her being twirled.

Fucking Nick, he thought with a scowl. No, he corrected, reminding himself that Nick was one of his best friends. He was just being nice. Making sure she felt welcomed into their close-knit group. That was the Nick he knew. The people pleaser, the one who wanted to make sure everyone was being included and having a good time. Even when doing so made him forget to have a good time himself.

But did the bastard have to enjoy himself so much?

"Where are you going?" This from Cole.

Who, Adam realized as he rose to his feet, had been mid-sentence when he'd shoved his chair away from the table. Draining the rest of his beer in one gulp, he set the glass down with a sigh. "Bathroom."

He went in that direction, even though he didn't have to use it. He just couldn't fight the sudden urge to move. To look at something other than the two people dancing. Once in the bathroom he leaned over the sink with a sigh.

"Dammit," he muttered to the shadow of his head darkening the porcelain.

How the fuck could he be jealous over a woman he didn't like?

With another heavy sigh he lifted his head and glanced to his reflection.

Because, maybe, he did like her.

And how could he not?

He washed his hands, bending to scoop the cool water into his mouth. As though doing so could rinse away the sourness. Okay, so he liked her. That was fine. It didn't mean anything. He liked a lot of people. He liked Britt. That didn't mean he got upset when she spent time with her boyfriend.

As comparisons went, it was the palest possible. But it was the best he could do.

When he returned to the barroom the song was over. His gaze darted and he saw Nick at the table. The seat next to his was empty. He looked to the left, saw the flash of pink that was Serena's hair. She looked over as soon as his eyes landed on her, and her smile lit up the room. Then she was walking away from Britt, slipping by a group of women crowding the bar.

Walking straight towards him.

He felt his lips curving as she approached. Felt them pull further, until it almost matched her smile. "Hey."

"Hey, I think Nick is—"

"Someone you might be interested in?" he interrupted. Then, feeling like a complete ass when she reared back slightly, he groaned. "What?"

"I was going to say I think Nick is ready to leave," she said, enunciating each word with obvious care. Then her brow furrowed. "And what the hell did that mean?"

"He's been flirting with you since he got here," Adam pointed out. He was sure that if he looked over at the table, he'd see Nick watching them with that thoughtful expression. Like he was waiting for the opportune moment to play his hand. And he had no idea why the thought of Nick being interested in Serena bothered him. Or why the thought of Serena being interested in Nick bothered him more. He just knew that watching them dance slow together had caused his stomach to burn as though he'd gulped down fiery cinnamon flavored liquor. Unable to stop himself, he glanced to the table.

And saw that Nick was in deep conversation with Dax.

"No, he hasn't." Serena laughed, a nervous, self-conscious laugh that only irritated him further. It turned his attention back to her, and he saw the doubt in her eyes.

"Why's that so hard to believe?" he asked softly.

"Men don't flirt with me, Adam."

"The hell they don't." Isiah and Marq had. Of course, they flirted with everybody… But Nick sure as hell had.

"Are you one of those people that thinks normal everyday niceness is flirting?"

"Are you too blind to see that you're an extremely attractive woman that any red-blooded straight man would want to flirt with?" he fired back.

Judging by the way her eyes widened, she was. Her cheeks darkened and she shook her head a little. Her eyes dipped to the floor and when they lifted again, they were filled with hurt. And when she began to speak, her voice was small. "I'm not stupid, okay? Men are nice to me. They laugh with me. Not because they're flirting or they think I'm hot, but because I'm… I'm not. I'm safe. They don't have to impress me, because they're not trying to get into my pants or take me back to their place. I know I'm not hideous, but I don't disillusion myself into thinking I'm pretty or that men find me enticing. I know my place, Adam."

He stared at her. She was one of the most vibrant, upbeat, confident women he'd ever met. Stunned, he blinked slowly, mind racing to analyze the words she'd just said. He knew that she wasn't fishing for compliments. She wasn't saying what she'd said just to have him reassure her that she was beautiful. Could tell that if he uttered those reassurances, she wouldn't believe them. He was more than a little surprised by the sudden view of her insecurities and wondered why she trusted him enough to share them. In a flash, he remembered her scoff when he'd told her she could end this mockery of a relationship when the time came.

Like anyone would believe that.

And, suddenly, it was crystal clear. Someone, somewhere, at some point in time, had destroyed her heart.

"Serena," he whispered. "Who hurt you?"

"It doesn't matter," she said. "Because it's true."

"It's not true." When she shook her head again, he reached to cup her shoulder. "Hey… Your place is wherever the fuck you want to be."

"That's sweet of you to say." Her hand lifted, fingers swiping at the corner of her eyes, and Adam had the sudden urge to bring her close. To truly reassure her. To hold her, find out just how nice an armful she was.

To help her fight the demons he sometimes fought himself. To see if she could help him fight them, too.

Rocked by that urge, he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. He was a breath from tugging her close and putting his arms around her. He even shifted his stance, ready to let himself show that he liked her a little. And then, maybe, he could find a way to get her to call him a good boy again.

But in the blink of an eye the moment passed. She was smiling again, curling her hand around his wrist.

"Come on," she said.

"Where?"

"To the stage."

"Why?" he asked warily, dropping his hand.

"We're gonna do a duet."

"Oh no," he protested. "No."

"Come on," she encouraged, tugging on his arm. "Britt already picked the song for us."

"I told you, I don't sing." When she squinted her eyes at him, he sighed. At least she wasn't—

"Please?" The squint was gone. She wasn't pleading but damned if she didn't look adorable.

"If I say yes, will you promise to not bug me to do this ever again?" he requested, holding his ground. But when she gave a plaintive little sigh, he found himself already caving. "What song did she pick?"

"A classic."

"Zeppelin? Cash? Queen?" he guessed. He kind of liked her holding onto him. "Willie? Hank? If it's a fucking boyband—"

"Elton John."

"Dammit," he muttered, even as he smiled over her exuberance. Like a kid finally being allowed to ride one of the big coasters at a theme park, she dragged him along behind her towards the stage.

"You know it," she promised. And when she squeezed his hand it felt natural.

"I'm so glad that you can dive into my brain and know that I know something. Did you happen to catch what ate for lunch? Or maybe my bank account number?"

"You probably ate a salad with chicken."

He grunted. Because, dammit, she was right. But he supposed that anyone could have guessed that. It had been his go-to lunch for ages. "What kind of chicken?"

She rolled her eyes. "Grilled."

Adam snorted. "Lucky guess."

"Okay, you do me. What did I have for lunch?"

How the hell was he supposed to know? Tilting his head when she lifted her eyebrows, he took a stab in the dark. "Pasta."

"What kind?"

"Angel hair."

"Sauce?"

He wondered if his guesses were correct or if she was just teasing him. Licking his lips, he was about to take another guess when her hand let go of his. Taking the microphone Serena handed him, he motioned for her to step onto the stage first, squinting his eyes at the screen so he could see which song Britt had chosen for them. Hearing a rowdy cheer from the corner table he threw up his middle finger, recognizing it as Cole's. "How'd you know I know this song?"

"Everybody does," she explained with a shrug while picking up the second microphone.

She had a point. He did know the song.  He felt his stomach tumble with nervousness, felt his breath hitch in his throat. Sure, he'd sung before. He liked to sing. In the shower. While driving. During bits on BTE. But this? In front of a bunch of strangers? He was going to make a fool of himself. He could only hope no one would film it and post it online for everyone to make fun of.

"Hey," she said an instant before the music started. Her hand touched his arm, gentle and comforting, and he didn't have time to wonder why, exactly, that her simple touch managed to ground him.

Taking in a breath, he gave in and turned so he looked at her. And, smiling, he began to sing.

***

"Don't go breakin' my heart…"

Serena nearly dropped her microphone when she heard his voice. He'd said he couldn't sing. Hadn't he? Surprised by the quality of his singing, she totally missed her first few lines, and felt her cheeks burn when he gave her a gentle nudge. Finally catching up, she made a face when he had the audacity to grin at her distress.

Was it wrong of her to hope someone was filming them? As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she caught sight of Britt at the table near the stage, her phone trained on them. She was glad because she wanted to listen to him sing again. And maybe again after that.

"When I was down," he sang, lifting his eyebrows.

"I was your clown." She was rewarded with another grin and decided she hated him for enjoying that she'd lost her step. It seemed natural to lean closer to him as they sang the next line together, and she met his eyes, smiling. "Ooh, nobody knows it…"

"But right from the start." She saw his hand moving but was too busy trying to decipher the color of his eyes in the bar's dim lights to notice what he was doing. They had looked blue the day they met. Now they looked green…

"I gave you my heart," she crooned, going still when his fingers brushed her cheek. He slowly tucked the lock of hair back behind her ear. His fingers lingered and she felt her breath catch in her throat. "Oh… I gave you my heart…"

"So don't go breaking my heart." His fingers swept along her jaw before his hand lowered.

"I won't go breaking your heart," she sang with sudden feeling, gripping her microphone tighter.

Are you too blind to see that you're an extremely attractive woman that any red-blooded straight man would want to flirt with?

Who hurt you?

It was over too soon. She liked singing with him. Liked that their voices almost harmonized. Liked that he made silly faces that caused her heart to do a fluttery jump in her chest. Liked that halfway through the song he took her hand and practically serenaded her.

She placed the microphone in its stand and turned to step off the stage. Surprised to see him standing there, she was about to jump down when his hands caught her waist. "What—"

Lifting. Spinning. The lights inside the bar whirled and so did her brain. Her hands landed on his biceps during the seconds of weightlessness and she felt them ripple as he lowered her so both her feet were on the floor. His hands stayed for a few seconds, though, and she unconsciously squeezed his arms.

"Thanks," she said softly.

"That was fun." He was smiling.

And his hands were still on her waist.

"Yeah," she agreed, swallowing when his hands gave a brief squeeze. She would have thought she'd be relieved once they moved away but, oddly, she felt almost sad.

Are you too blind to see you're an extremely attractive woman?

"C'mon," he said. His hand slid to grasp hers and she was struck by how natural it felt, how easily he seemed to do it. As though he'd done it without thinking.

Without thinking, she tilted her hand so their fingers twined and walked with him back to the table. She murmured her thanks when his friends complimented their duet, too focused on how his hand encompassed hers to pay much attention to what they were saying. She bit back a laugh when Adam kicked the chair Nick was sitting in, causing the man to yelp, and turned to muffle her snort as they glared at each other.

"Move your ass," Adam finally said.

"There's an empty chair right there," Nick told him, pointing to the chair Adam had been sitting in.

She cleared her throat. "I'll go—"

"He'll move," Adam promised.

"Will he?" she asked when Nick threw up his hands.

The chair scraped back with more force than necessary, and the grin Adam sent her was smug. "See?"

"I'm only moving for Serena," Nick said, catching the back of the chair and turning it slightly. He gestured to the empty seat and waited.

Serena looked from him to Adam, then back again, then once more to Adam. She didn't know what to make of the tension she could feel radiating from him. One thing she did know was that Nick hadn't been flirting with her earlier. Their conversation before he'd asked her to dance had been about wrestling, and if she'd looked awed it was because Nick Fucking Jackson had said he'd watched some of her stuff and thought she had talent. She didn't know what Adam had seen, but it hadn't been flirting.

Okay, she had enjoyed the dance. Slow dancing was fun, especially with a good-looking partner. Double especially when said partner had natural rhythm. And, really, the twirl had given her a little thrill. But then he'd apologized for taking up so much of her time when she was on a date with Adam.

Adam. Who could sing so beautifully and had made her heart do that funny little jump. Adam, who was still holding her hand.

She looked to the empty chair, then at Nick once more. Saw understanding in his eyes when he smiled. And felt Adam relax when he let go of the chair and headed for the other empty seat.

He released her hand and she sat when he held out the chair for her. She nodded when he asked if she wanted another drink, and when the server approached after Adam's wave, she moistened her lips and requested a whiskey.

"Same for me. Double," he said, draping his arm across the back of her chair.

And she had to endure his fingers brushing her shoulder as she sipped her drink. The conversation around the table was lively, boisterous even, but she didn't try to keep up, too aware of him. Of his laugh when Cole or Matt shared an inside joke. His arm across her back when he leaned to set his glass down. The scent of his cologne and soap and Pantene shampoo. His thigh bumping against hers occasionally, because she learned in those moments that he couldn't sit completely still.

She didn't mean to, or even think about it. But when his thigh bumped hers again, she reached over and placed her hand on it, gulping her whiskey down as it went deathly still. His hand cupped her shoulder and she sensed his head turning, could feel his blue or green eyes looking at her. She kept her gaze on her hand, though, and began to pull it away when she remembered she had no business touching his thigh.

No matter how much she suddenly wanted to.

The hand resting on the table in front of him dropped down, covering hers. Serena lifted her head and pressed her lips together when he guided her hand back to his thigh.

"It's fine," he whispered, squeezing her shoulder.

"You sure?"

He leaned in and for a split second she thought he intended to kiss her. But he tilted his head at the last second, bearded jaw grazing her cheek as he whispered in her ear. "Britt's watching like a hawk."

"Fuck Britt," she muttered.

"I'd rather not," he chuckled.

His lips skimmed her jaw as he pulled back, and she couldn't fight the shiver that resulted.

"You alright?"

"Just tired," she said, going with the safe answer. She was tired. It had to be close to two in the morning. Just as that thought crossed her mind there was jangling noise from behind the bar, causing her to jump slightly, and she felt Adam's arm tighten around her shoulders.

"Last call," he said. "You want another?"

"I can't," she said with a shake of her head. "I'm driving."

"I thought I was driving."

"You're gonna drive me to my hotel then Uber back to your place?" she asked.

"Oh." He chuckled, ducking his head briefly. "Sorry. Forgot."

"I forget things too," she promised.

"I've had fun tonight," he said suddenly. "Even if you did make me sing… It's been fun."

She smiled again. "It has, hasn't it? Nothing like drinks and friends, right?"

"Yeah." He lifted his glass and gave her a small salute with it. "Drinks and friends."

"You ready to go?" she asked once he'd finished his drink and set the glass on the table. "I mean, we can stay—"

"Nah. Let's go."

She felt his hand squeeze her shoulder again and impulsively squeezed his thigh in return. He pushed his chair back and she did the same, standing while he reached for his wallet. When she offered to pay he shook his head, tossing a few bills to the table. There was a flurry of goodnights from his friends. Serena studiously ignored Britt's pleased expression when Adam reached for her hand, calling out a quick goodnight as they left the table.

The late-night air was balmy, the street quieter and dimmer than when they'd arrived. Adam's hand was gentle but firm as they walked to where he'd parked the car, and she got the feeling he was protective when he situated himself so he walked between her and the street. Knew he was protective when he released her hand and tucked his arm around her shoulders, guiding her close to him, as they passed three men smoking outside a twenty-four-hour diner.

She liked that he opened the door for her and made sure she was inside before closing it and walking around. Liked that he didn't drive like an asshole. Liked that his hand found hers a few times while he drove to his apartment building.

"Do you need help?" she asked out of habit after he parked and turned off the engine. Accepting the keys when he handed them over, she hit the button to open the back.

"Nah, I got it. It's just two bags."

She got out as well, glancing around the complex. "Where's your apartment?"

"Second floor." He pointed to the unit they were parked in front of. "It's not much."

"Just a place to hang your hat when you're here?"

"Exactly." He rolled his shoulders before pulling his suitcase out of the trunk. It hit the ground and tipped over. "Shit…"

She got his backpack while he righted the suitcase. Handing it over, she wondered what she could say to take the sudden awkwardness she felt away. "Hey."

"Yeah?" He bent to fiddle with his suitcase.

"You know when you leaned over to whisper in my ear at the bar?" She released a small laugh. It was embarrassing, but now it was too late to not tell him.

"Yeah…"

"I thought you were gonna kiss me."

He straightened, yanking the suitcase handle so hard the case lifted off the pavement. "What?"

"You know, because everyone was there. Watching. To keep the lie going," she added lamely.

"We agreed on no PDA," he said.

"I know that. It doesn't matter anyway. You don't want to kiss me." She scowled. "And I don't want to kiss you either."

"Sure," he said with a snort. "Then why the hell were you groping me?"

"I wasn't groping— You're disgusting," she told him, reaching to slam the trunk closed. He lurched back to avoid being hit by the door and she felt a tiny glimmer of satisfaction. "Goodnight."

"Putting your hand on someone's thigh? And squeezing it?" He scoffed. "Hate to break it to you, baby, but that's groping."

"I put my hand on your thigh because it kept bouncing like one of those jumping beans," she pointed out. She felt heated, and she hoped it was anger and not something more dangerous. "And you're the one who put your arm around me."

"Hey, I kept it above the waist!"

"You're such an asshole!" she snapped.

"Good thing we ain't really dating then, isn't it?"

"I don't even know if I want to pretend to date you," she muttered, turning to get into the car. Gasping when his hand caught her arm, she turned before he could pull, anger fleeing as she caught the vulnerability in his eyes. It was gone as soon as he blinked, replaced with irritation. Fire. And though his grip was as loose as possible, she didn't even try to pull away. "I didn't mean—"

"This was all your idea, Serena."

"I know," she whispered. She had expected to end up liking him. And that she would think he was attractive. But she hadn't expected to feel tiny sparks of longing when he looked at her or touched her. Or that he would make her open up and share one of her insecurities. And she would never have believed that he would react to that insecurity with apparent understanding.

Who hurt you?

"I'm sorry," she said, exhaling slowly as his hand slid down to hers.

"Me, too," he murmured. "This is supposed to be easy, right?"

"Yeah," she laughed. Looking down at their hands, she watched their fingers twine. And when his thumb stroked the back of her hand, she squeezed. "I didn't mean to grope your thigh, and I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

"I wasn't uncomfortable. Just surprised."

"You're not an asshole." She lifted her head in time to see his lips tilt into a smile.

"You sure?" He took half a step forward.

"Positive. In fact…" She mirrored his smile. "You're a good boy."

"Yeah?" His whisper was husky. His tongue darted over his lips and he released a quick breath, his cheeks darkening slightly.

And again that stab of desire pierced her belly. "Yeah."

"If you want…" He cleared his throat, and she watched his lips purse before he spoke again. "If you want someone to flirt with you, ma'am, just say the words."

"I'll keep that in mind." She drew in a breath of his cologne and Pantene. "I should get going."

But she didn't step away. Neither did he.

"I did have fun tonight," she said, meeting his eyes. Were they blue? Or green? In the light of the parking lot she couldn't tell.

"I did too. And… Not because of those assholes with us. I, um." His thumb skittered over the back of her hand. "I liked spending time with you."

"Yeah?" she asked, unable to keep the smile from pulling at her lips. "Me too."

"And we can do this again, right?"

"Sure. But—"

"Without those assholes," he added.

She grinned. "Absolutely."

"Shake on it?" he asked. Then, looking down at their hands, he released that nervous little chuckle she'd heard from him so many times over the course of the night. "Or not."

"Adam?"

"Hmm?"

She pushed herself up onto her tiptoes. She was going for another kiss to his cheek, like she had that night they'd met. At the last second, though, she wrapped her arm around him in a hug. She heard him sigh. Felt his chest expand. Their hands parted and she tucked her other arm around him. Then both his arms were around her, holding her to him, and she was touched by the tenderness of his embrace. Relaxing, she closed her eyes briefly, sighing softly when his hand raised and smoothed her hair. She let her head rest against chest, soothed by his breathing and the gentle echo of his heartbeat.

It was, she decided, much nicer than a kiss on the cheek would have been.

How long had it been since she'd just been held? It was so different from the hugs she gave and received so freely. There was something so comforting about being enveloped in a pair of strong arms. When he gave a squeeze and she felt his head lean against hers briefly, she had an hunch that he would be fantastic at cuddling.

They parted simultaneously, and she appreciated the way his hands held onto her waist for a few seconds before falling away. She didn't want to say anything that would burst the little bubble of wonderful. Wished she were witty enough to come up with a phrase that would be vivacious and a little dramatic, then get into her car and drive off. But she could only stare at him.

He slowly licked his lips and exhaled sharply. "We still don't like each other, right?"

"No?" She hated that it came out as a squeak. She tried again for a normal tone of voice. "No. We don't."

"Thought not."

"Do we?" she asked.

"No, no, definitely not," he answered quickly. "Not like we kissed or anything."

"Right. Yes." She bit her lip.

He smirked. "You want one?"

Yes, she did. But she shook her head. "Maybe next time."

"Sure. I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah. I'll call you?"

"Works for me." He stepped back, letting the balmy air between them again, and reached for his suitcase. She heard the rattling of his title belt in his backpack when he adjusted it on his shoulder.

"See you soon," she said softly, smiling when he reached to open the car door for her.

"Drive safe." He waited until she was inside and had brought the seat up before gently closing the door. Ducking to look at her through the window, he gave her a smile that made her heart do a silly tumble. "Good night, Serena."

"Good night, Adam."

#adam page fanfiction #adam page imagine #aew imagine #aew fanfiction #my fics #multipart:BITN #if fucking tumblr ever lets me POST that'd be great

[champhangman]

Bleed Into the Night

Title: Bleed Into the Night Part: Two of ?? Characters: Hangman Adam Page x OFC Summary: She wasn’t looking. Neither was he. For a brief flash, they found each other. Word Count: 6,854 Warnings: Alcohol use. Mild cursing. Previous: Part One  A/N: Still Ashley’s fault. And Emi’s fault, too. 

Tagging: @adampage​​ / @cowboyshit​​ / @baysexuality​​ / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy / @evilangel84​ / @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis​ / @kalliravenne​ / @sadlittlecountess​​ / @baronsbelleevangeline​​ / @brie-mode-activated​​ / @xbreezymeadowsx​​ / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​​ / 

Two

Serena trailed her toes through the water again. She could still feel eyes on her and Adam and glanced back to the house. With a groan, she looked back to the man standing near her. "It's like a bad horror movie, isn't it? I know they're watching us even though I can't see them."

"Be careful around Britt. She's liable to trip you so you fall on me," he said, shaking his head.

"Guess I'll just have to stay out of falling range." She gauged the distance between them and took a step backward. "Is that far enough?"

"I don't know. I've got good reflexes." He took a step back as well, and his smile was bright. "Good?"

"Perfect." He had nice eyes. Serena blinked at the sudden thought and took a big swig of her beer. Not interested, she reminded herself, kicking off her other sandal and turning to sit at the edge of the pool. She sank both feet into the cool water with a sigh. This was better. She could do this.

"How's the water?" he asked.

"Cool. You going in?" She wondered where he was from. There was a faint Southern cadence to his smooth voice. He had to be a good singer, she thought suddenly.

"I gotta get my trunks, but yeah."

She saw his shadow ripple over the water and caught his woodsy cologne on the breeze as he walked behind her. She sneaked a glance. She couldn't help herself. Her head tilted just in time to see him bend to move her sandals out of his way and her teeth bit into her lip. Cute Southern boy with a nice ass that looked good in jeans. She decided to keep their discussion on the very safe topic of pools and swimming. "Do you have a pool?"

"I have one at home. Down here I just rent an apartment. There's a pool there but it's always crowded." He straightened and her eyes darted back to the water as soon as he looked to her. "You?"

"Just the pool at the complex." She wondered where home was. She kicked her feet in the water and drained her beer in one gulp. "Since you're going that way, could you bring me another beer, please?"

"Yeah, sure." His hand brushed hers as he took her empty bottle.

"Thanks." She watched his easy stride across the lawn to the patio, reaching to gather her loose hair into a bun. "Get a fucking grip, Serena. You're not interested."

But she knew she could be.

What a laugh that would be, she thought, standing to pull off her tank top and shorts. She had been so against wanting to be thrust with yet another friend of Cole's or Britt's. Four failures in less than a year had been more than enough. Not that they were complete disasters. Each of the men had been nice. Funny. Each handsome in their own way. But each time she had found something lacking. Not in them, but in whatever would-be relationship they attempted.

She didn't want sudden, all-consuming passion and love. She'd been burned by that before when after six months she had come to realize that she had been more in love with the idea of love than with the actual man she had professed to adore. And she didn't want to date someone just to have sex. Sex was great, but she didn't need a man to fulfill her needs. That was why God had invented sex toys, right?

She wanted…

She didn't know. She wanted love and passion and yearning. But she wanted something more. Something she couldn't define.

And she doubted she would find it in the pretty blue eyes of a man who wanted to be set up as little as she did.

***

By the time he returned to the pool she was in the water. He had, somehow, managed to avoid being cornered by Britt while he changed and grabbed beers. Although he suspected it was too early for her to corner him, he didn't want to risk it. He already knew, down to her facial expressions, how that would go.

She's nice, isn't she? She looks interested. You should go for it, Page.

Go for it. He'd done just that how many times in the last year? And each time he had fallen on his face. The so-called interest lasted through the first couple of dates. Once they learned he couldn't devote one hundred percent of his free time to them, he'd seen their attraction fade. Even women in the business expected him to drop wrestling at the door and focus only on them.

Sighing, he gave his head a small shake to clear the memories and watched Serena's head pop up at the deep end. He sat at the edge and stuck his feet in, gaze lingering on her as she dipped back into the water. He followed with his eyes while she swam to the opposite end, lifting the beer he'd brought for her when she looked to him. He opened his own and took a swig, taking the opportunity to admire her curves as she walked up the steps at the shallow end and made her way around to him. Although he suspected she wore the dark purple one-piece to conceal them, it instead highlighted them. They were ample and he looked away quickly when it occurred to him that she would be a good armful.

"Thank you," she said, taking the beer. She twisted off the cap, which slipped from her fingers.

One hand shot out to catch the cap before it could hit the ground. "No problem."

"You should get in."

"After I finish this," he promised, lifting his bottle.

"Yes, of course. Can't let a free beer go to waste." She nodded and sat down a couple of feet away from him.

"Hell, am I drinking your beer?" he asked. He hadn't thought to ask Britt. He'd just helped himself while she was on the phone and occupied.

"Britt got it. She knows not to invite me over without stocking beer."

He watched her take an appreciative sip and heard her gentle sigh. Watching her legs as she slowly kicked her feet in the water, he licked his suddenly dry lips. "You don't happen to like whiskey, do you?"

"I love it."

Adam almost sighed but somehow managed to avoid doing so and took a deep drink of his beer. Few women liked whiskey. Few women liked beer, either. Most women he'd known preferred fruity cocktails that looked cute for their Instagram photos. Maybe he'd been around the wrong women. He watched a drop of water roll down her neck, cling to her collarbone for a second, then trickle into her cleavage. His throat went dry and he quickly looked away. "Yeah?"

"I don't drink it much. I think it's something that should be savored. I keep it for special occasions."

He didn't want to know what those special occasions were. Did he? He felt something sharp dig into his palm. Glancing down, he saw he still held the cap from her bottle. He twirled it between his fingers and finally gave in, turning to look at her again. And asked before he could stop himself. "What do you consider a special occasion?"

"Oh, you know. The usual." Her shrug sent more drops of water trailing down her neck. "Signing my contract. Moving into my apartment. Unpacking those last few boxes that sat in my closet for a year. Winning my first match."

"Now wait a damn minute," he protested. "Every match deserves a shot of whiskey. Even if you lose, you've earned some good liquor."

She laughed. "You've got a point."

"I'm usually always right," Adam declared.

"Are you always so smug?"

"No ma'am," he promised. "Most of the time I'm a sweetheart."

"Huh," she grunted after draining her beer and placing the empty bottle next to her before sliding back into the pool. "Could've fooled me."

***

Serena supposed he was alright.

No, that was unfair to him. She could see that he was a likeable guy. He was friendly, even though he'd been dragged into meeting her. He was probably a fierce and devoted friend. Considering he had stayed even when he'd figured out that it was a setup, she did not doubt that he wasn't the type to intentionally hurt someone's feelings.

"How long have you known Cole?" he asked.

"About a year." Sinking so only her head was above the water, she turned so she faced him.

From there the conversation flowed easily. They talked about mutual friends they had in the business. About wrestling, and she admitted that she only started doing it because her friend had and hadn't wanted to go to the school alone. And when her friend had decided she didn't like wrestling, after all, she had kept at it because, funnily enough, she did enjoy it. It was bizarre, she thought while she continued to ramble on, how easy it was to tell him, a stranger, about training and doing practically nothing before trying out for WWE on a whim. It had been easier with others to smile and nod and agree when they suggested she'd been scouted.

Maybe because that way she didn't feel like such a fraud.

"What's your style?" Adam asked, seemingly unconcerned that she hadn't paid her proverbial dues in different promotions.

"A mix. Shawn and Hunter are pushing me to try more high-flying. Because I'm a little bigger than most of the girls, I think they want the wow factor of me flipping. But I really like the powerhouse stuff, because slinging someone's ass across the ring is always fun."

He laughed at that, and she fought the urge to enjoy the warm sound. "You shouldn't let them make you do something if you're not comfortable with it. Your moves are your statement. If you don't make them meaningful to you and your character, they won't mean anything to the fans."

"That's a very eloquent statement. I'll keep it in mind."

"That's me. Just a smug, eloquent sweetheart." His grin was teasing.

To her utter relief, Britt and Cole finally made their way out to the pool then. The conversation moved to other topics. It wasn't long until Britt managed to get her away from the men, and as they sat in the shallow end the woman smiled.

Serena almost groaned because she knew exactly what her friend was going to say.

"What do you think?"

No use pretending she didn't know what Britt was talking about. Or, rather, who. She was drawing in a breath to give a bland, noncommittal answer when movement caught her attention. Looking towards the deep end, she saw the men had begun to practice flipping into the water. Ignoring the impatient clearing of Britt's throat, she watched Adam easily pull himself over the edge of the pool.

And, in a flash, she had a brilliant idea.

"Actually," she began, pausing to chew on her bottom lip before looking back at her friend. "He's kind of cute…"

Britt's face lit up. "You think so?"

"Yeah." Serena smiled. She could see him out the corner of her eye. Laughing and clowning with Cole. It was obvious he was more relaxed now. Yes, he was a handsome man, she conceded, but a comforting handsome. He had the boy-next-door good looks. A charming smile. That gentle voice.

"He's a great guy, Serena," Britt said.

If he was so great why was he single? She wanted to ask that question but didn't, instead nodding. "I can tell."

She hoped he was a great guy. Because he would have to be almost perfect to go along with her ridiculous plan.

***

The food had been great, the conversation easy and comfortable, and the laughter continued until Adam's chest hurt.

He sat back with a sigh after the hilarity had passed, tossing his napkin onto his empty plate. Next to him, Serena was still releasing the occasional giggle, and he studiously kept his gaze in front of him while finishing his drink. He'd looked at her enough during dinner. More than enough.

Enough to learn that she had a dimple in her left cheek.

Enough to know she had four piercings in her left ear.

And she had a freckle just behind her ear, right where her hairline began.

And that the fairy lights strung above the patio made her eyes sparkle.

He couldn't have not looked at her. She was right next to him. And he tried to be polite. Which meant that every time she talked he turned his head. Sometimes he had caught her looking at him. More than once with an odd little smile.

He had no choice but to look at her, though, when she tapped his arm. Raising his eyebrows in question, he watched her nod towards the house and motion to her empty plate. Did she expect him to carry her dishes in? Confused, he opened his mouth to ask her what she wanted, but his question was drowned out by her pushing her chair back.

"Adam and I will take care of the dishes," she announced.

"We will?" he asked. Serena gave him that odd little smile again. This time it was accompanied by a head tilt. It reminded him of the looks a parent gave a misbehaving child before they got into trouble.

And for some ungodly reason, he felt a ripple of desire.

"You don't have to," Britt protested.

"We insist." Serena gave him a look that he couldn't identify. "Don't we?"

"We do?" He suddenly understood her look and scraped his chair back. Cole looked at him with an odd smile on his face and Britt's eyes were wide with interest, but he ignored them and gathered dishes. "I mean, yeah, we do."

Within minutes his arms were loaded, and he followed her into the house, confusion growing when she carried the glasses to the counter and turned on the water. He set the dishes down on the island. Once more opening his mouth to ask her a question, he sighed when she moved to close the door. As soon as she reached the island, he blurted, "What the hell's going on?"

"I have an idea," she said, not even glancing at him while she opened cabinets and peered inside.

"What?"

"Do you know where they keep containers?"

With a sigh, he pushed away from the counter and went to the cabinet he remembered seeing containers in. "What are you doing?"

She looked at him as though he were insane. "Saving the leftovers."

"That's your idea?"

"No," she scoffed, taking the containers from him and placing them on the island.

Adam shook his head and turned off the water. "I'm lost, Serena."

"I know the perfect way to get them off our backs." She paused, pushing a lid onto a container after filling it.

"Cole and Britt?"

"Yeah."

He took the containers as she filled them and placed them in the fridge. "I'm listening."

She gestured to him, then herself, with a serving spoon. "We start dating each other."

The container he was holding fell to the floor. "Th'fuck?"

"I don't mean really. I mean we pretend that we're interested in each other and fake that we're going out and whatever."

"But we're not interested," he said, bending to retrieve the container. The lid hadn't come off, so he slung it into the fridge. Then he turned to look at her. He wanted to know what the 'whatever' included. "Are we?"

"Of course not."

"Right." They weren't. She wasn't his type, whatever his type was. He doubted he was her type, either. Then he wondered what her type was.

"We won't have to do much. I guess they'll invite us here when we're all off, but otherwise…" She shrugged. Opening the dishwasher, she pulled out the rack.

"So, you want to pretend we're dating just to make them happy?" he asked, still confused. It made no sense. He didn't even know if he was that good an actor.

"Think about it. If we say we're not interested, what's going to happen?"

Adam sighed and moved to empty the glasses she'd brought in. He knew damn well what would happen. Within a few weeks, Britt would be inviting him to another dinner. With another woman she knew that was perfect for him. Turning on the water, he gave the glasses a rinse before handing them to her to load. "The same thing that happened tonight."

"Exactly."

He shook his head. The woman was crazy. "Britt's not stupid. She'll want date details."

"I'm sure we can come up with a few generic dates that we don't go on but tell her we did."

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

He handed over plates as he rinsed them. "What do you get out of it?"

"The same thing as you. I'll be able to live life without being blindsided by a guy that's perfect for me."

"What happens if one of us meets someone we are interested in?"

"Then we pretend to break up," she said slowly. Like she was explaining it to a child. "Please say yes."

"Why?" he asked, wary.

"Because I kind of already told Britt that I think you're cute."

Considering she uttered the words without any sort of enthusiasm, he couldn't take the statement as a compliment. With the same flat tone, he muttered, "Thanks."

"So, when you go put feelers out with her, she'll encourage it, and—"

"Hold up." Adam handed her the silverware and turned off the faucet. Reaching for the kitchen towel on the counter, he dried his hands thoroughly. "Why do I have to be the one to put out feelers?"

She waited until she'd loaded everything into the dishwasher and closed the doors before turning to face him. Her expression was shrewd, and Adam had the eerie sensation she could read his mind. "You're old-fashioned. In some regards, at least. Maybe it's because you're from – Where are you from?"

"Virginia," he answered.

"Oh. Anyway, maybe it's because you're from Virginia but you've got that Southern gentleman vibe. If I'm wrong, you can tell me—"

"You're right," he interrupted, holding out the towel so she could dry her hands. "I don't know how you figured that out, but you're right."

"Like knows like." She draped the towel over the edge of the sink.

"You're a Southern gentleman?" he asked, lips twitching.

She rolled her eyes. Her giggle was unexpected but not unwelcome. Her dimple appeared and he let himself smile.

"I get it." He leaned against the counter and sighed. "How long is this supposed to last?"

"Not long." She opened a cabinet and took down two glasses, then opened the cabinet Cole and Britt kept their liquor in. Adam lifted his eyebrows at her helping herself to their stash. Even he didn't help himself to that cabinet, considering it was where they kept the good stuff. She pulled a bottle he recognized as the one he'd brought, and he suddenly didn't feel so judgmental.

Taking the bottle from her, he broke the seal and unscrewed the cap while she filled the glasses with ice. "This counts as a special occasion?"

"It does once you agree."

"I don't know," he sighed when she returned and placed the glasses on the counter. "Who breaks up with who?"

"You can break up with me." She lifted one shoulder. "I'm used to it."

He picked up sadness in her voice and frowned while pouring the liquor. Even more questions began piling up in his mind, but he ignored the ones that didn't involve her ridiculous plan. "You can do the breaking up."

She muttered something under her breath. He wasn't sure, but it sounded like, "Like anyone would believe that."

And he didn't know why that upset him. "It won't be so unbelievable. I'm a belligerent asshole, especially when I've been drinking. Ask anybody."

She slid one glass closer to herself and looked at him. "You'll do it?"

"Just how involved are we gonna get?" He knew answering a question with a question was an asshole thing to do, but he needed to know. It was his way. He had to know the details before he could agree. He had to know what was expected of him. "Am I gonna be seeing tweets about us and shit?"

"Oh, we don't have to go that public," she said quickly. "But I guess we could follow each other?"

He nodded. "You got a timeframe for this?"

"No, because I'm coming up with this on the fly." She began gathering her hair into a bun. "A month? Two?"

"How serious will we be?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well." He chuckled because she looked suspicious. "Do I tell the guys we're fucking?"

"If you have to tell them, sure." She didn't sound too happy about it. Holding her hair to the back of her head, she began groping at her wrist.

"Here," he said, pulling the spare hair tie from his wrist.

"Thanks. Any more questions?"

"Do you like PDA?"

"Not really. Why?"

"You don't think they'll just accept that we're seeing each other and leave it at that, do you?" He heard their friends laughing outside and knew he would have to make his decision soon. "They'll be inviting us out here all the time."

"Damn, I didn't think about that," she sighed. "Okay. Um… Hand holding?"

"Works for me."

"So you'll do it?"

"I still have questions."

"I'll give you my number and we can text."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"It benefits me. It benefits you. I don't know that it's gonna fucking work, but I'm game." He lifted his glass and gave the whiskey a quick swirl. Holding it up, he waited for her to raise hers and gently clinked them. "Here's to a beautiful relationship, Serena."

"Looking forward to it, Adam," she said.

He took a sip and watched her sip hers. Hearing Britt's laughter growing louder at the door, he pushed away from the counter and moved to the other side of the island. By the time their friends entered the kitchen he was on his phone. Glancing up, he grinned. "Hey, Cole, wanna see a bit I did this morning for BTE?"

Leaving Serena with Britt, he flashed her a quick smile as he and Cole moved into the living room. He showed his friend the short video he'd filmed and edited that morning, mind swirling the entire time.

Fake dating. It sounded like something out of a badly written movie. He was sure he'd seen movies where two people pretended to date. And if he remembered correctly, it always ended in either heartbreak or real love.

That wouldn't happen to them. They were being upfront and honest with each other. And though he was certain that the idea was almost as crazy as the woman who'd had it, he could see the merits. At least in the short term. If she thought that Britt and Cole – mostly Britt – would ease off when they broke up in a couple of months, she was in for a surprise. Then again, maybe she could play heartbroken well enough to make Britt back off.

As for him… Well, maybe he could play heartbroken, too.

"You okay?" Cole asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he promised automatically. Looking down at the glass he was still holding, he took a small sip. "I just need to talk to Britt about something real quick."

Cole looked at him oddly. "Sure. Hey Serena!"

"No, I'm not going to book practice time tomorrow to work on my fucking enzuigiri!"

Adam snorted on a laugh. "Are you that bad a coach?"

"She loves to practice," Cole promised. "Just come here!"

"Not if you're gonna talk to me about work!" she called.

"Hey, Britt?" Adam ventured, leaning in the kitchen doorway. Smiling when Serena looked over to him, he gave his head a quick jerk. She took the hint and muttered something to Britt before slipping past him to go to the living room. They shared a smile, and he knew from Britt's absolute silence that she had noticed. He made sure to turn his head, letting himself admire Serena's walk, then pushed away from the doorway and entered the kitchen.

"Is something wrong?" Britt asked, even though she was grinning.

"No, no, everything's great," he promised, letting his lips slide into a grin as he leaned against the island counter. Setting his unfinished drink down, he cleared his throat and picked up the beer cap lying next to the vase of flowers. "It's about Serena."

Her grin widened. "Oh?"

He almost laughed. "Is she, um… Is she seeing anyone?"

"Why don't you ask her?"

"Kind of get distracted by other things when we're talking," he said with an embarrassed chuckle. Like how her eyes caught any light. And that dimple in her left cheek… "Is she?"

"No. Why?" she asked. Her voice was filled with anticipation.

"I'm just thinking… I don't know." He shrugged, flipping the beer cap over repeatedly. "There's just something about her, y'know?"

"Yeah?"

"You think she'd go out with—"

"Yes I do," Britt blurted. She was practically bouncing on her feet. "You like her?"

"Well, yeah… But—"

"She'd say yes. I know she would. Trust me. Go on, ask her out now," she encouraged, reaching across the island to push at his shoulder.

"Now?" Adam hedged, straightening. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced toward the living room warily. "Now?"

"Do it. She's perfect for you, Page."

"You said she wasn't my type."

"If I'd said she was perfect for you, you wouldn't have come tonight."

"You're devious as fuck, you know that?"

"I'm not devious! I'm…"

"Sneaky? Underhanded? Conniving?"

"Did you eat a thesaurus for lunch?" she growled. But there was no venom in her tone. "Go on, ask her."

"I don't know," he hedged, just to annoy her. "If she was interested, wouldn't she ask me?"

"No. She's old-fashioned when it comes to dating. Trust me."

She'd said that at least twice. "Okay," he sighed, tossing the beer cap down. "Thanks, Britt."

"You're welcome."

He headed back into the living room, shaking his head when he walked in on Cole showing Serena a video on his phone. Stepping up behind them, he saw that it was a video showing the enzuigiri at different speeds. And, he noticed, Serena was staring straight at Cole's thumb, not the screen. He lightly touched her shoulder and when she looked back at him he smiled. "Can I steal you for a minute?"

"Please do," she stressed, all but shoving Cole away. "I swear to god if I hear the word enzuigiri I'm gonna scream."

"I promise I don't want to steal you to talk about them." Adam grunted when she tugged on his sleeve, then lightly held her arm to guide her to the little hall near the front door.

"What?" she asked in a whisper.

"I need your number," he whispered back, pulling out his phone.

"Why did you need me to be alone for that?"

"Because I told Britt I was gonna ask you out."

"Oh." Taking his phone when he held it out, she put in her name and number. "I'll send myself a text so I'll have your number."

"Yeah." He watched her fingers fly over the screen, so different from the way he texted. Just as she handed his phone back to him he heard a soft chime from the living room.

"All done." She sighed. "And it's getting late. I should get going."

"I'll walk out with you," he offered, opening his messages to see what she'd texted to herself. Seeing she'd put two heart-eyed emojis behind her name, he looked at her and groaned. "Really?"

"What? You wouldn't text that?"

He hadn't even read the text. Gaze dropping, he read the brief sentence and groaned harder. "Fucking really? No, I wouldn't text that."

Hey pretty lady indeed. Shaking his head, he shoved his phone into his pocket.

"I would have said something like… Hey, it's Adam. Just making sure you have my number. It was great meeting you and I'll talk to you soon."

"That sounds like a business email, not a flirty text."

"I don't flirt on the first text."

She smiled. "When do you flirt?"

"Didn't you say you needed to go home?"

Serena rolled her eyes and turned to go back into the living room. That sweet smile was in place again, and it remained while she began her goodbyes. She was tired. It had been a great night, they had to do it again soon. All the usual cliché statements one said, but they sounded sincere coming from her. He announced that he needed to go too and repeated his offer of walking Serena out. For once, Cole and Britt didn't expand their goodbyes, and he was outside with Serena in less than half the time it usually took him to leave.

He walked alongside her to the sidewalk, then turned to face her.

"You gonna be okay to drive?"

She looked at him oddly. Or maybe it was the glow of the outside lights that made her expression seem odd. "I'm fine."

"I know, I know," he said, holding up one hand placatingly. "I was just making sure."

"You had more to drink than I did," she reminded him.

"I'm good," he promised. And he was. He'd barely touched the whiskey. And he couldn't figure out why. Maybe because her words kept echoing in his mind each time he started to take a sip. Her little bit about saving whiskey for special occasions. Which couldn't be the reason, because when the hell had he ever needed a special occasion to enjoy some George Dickel? No, it was because he hadn't wanted to have to sleep it off in the morning. Not that he'd had that problem in a long time… "Really, I'm good."

"Do you have far to drive?" she asked.

"About fifteen minutes. You?"

"Thirty."

He considered that. "I could get you there in fifteen."

"Ah, but I like to take things slow," she informed with a small smile.

Was she flirting with him? Hell no, she couldn't be. She didn't like him. Okay, she liked him. But she wasn't interested. She'd made that perfectly clear while concocting this insane scheme. And it was a good thing she wasn't interested because neither was he. Pushing his hands into his pockets, he let his lips curve slightly. He could give as good as he got. "That's fine, but it's nice to go fast now and then."

"So, what you're saying is you don't like to slow down and enjoy the ride?"

"Now you're twisting my words. I enjoy a slow ride once in a while," he admitted. They were still talking about driving, weren't they?

"I love taking it slow. Sometimes I'll drag it out so it takes an hour."

"Is that right?" he murmured, biting the inside of his cheek. An ache formed in the pit of his belly and he bit cheek harder in an attempt to ignore it.

"The long way around can be very refreshing."

"I don't doubt that for a second."

"Are they still watching?"

He didn't even look. "Of course they are."

"I feel like a goldfish in a pet store."

"Half-dead and floating?"

She snorted on a laugh. "No! No privacy."

"We're not doing anything," he drawled. Grateful it wasn't daylight when he felt his cheeks grow warm, he rocked back on his heels. "I should get going."

"Me too."

This was the part he hated. The awkward feeling that always crept up when it was time to part. He supposed he could just walk off and get into his truck and leave, but the manners slapped into him at a young age kept him from doing so. He had to wait until she got into her car. Until her engine was running and she was driving off. And knowing they had a captivated audience only made it more difficult. Should he take her arm and walk her to her car? Open the door for her? Or should he just stand there like the jackass he felt he was and watch her go? That was if she ever left. Because she hadn't so much as turned one foot in the direction of her car.

"Well," she said suddenly, her voice brisk and businesslike. "I'll see you around?"

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "We'll probably be invited next week."

"Right. Right." The breeze picked up and he watched it lift a lock of her hair and send it dancing across her face. Her hand lifted, her fingers caught it, and she dragged it away and tucked it behind her ear.

Why, he wondered, was he jealous of her fingers?

"You've got my number. You know, if you need to text me or whatever." Serena looked away and he saw her shoulders rise and fall with a sigh.

"Yeah, same to you. I can do that." He sounded so stupid. "You can call me sometime or whatever?"

"Right." She scraped that lock of hair back again. "You can call me too, I guess."

She sounded so impartial he had no trouble understanding that him calling was the last thing she wanted. Adam licked his lips and glanced at the house. Sure enough, he could just see a face peering at them through the blinds in the front window. And another face at the window by the front door. "You think we should kiss?"

Her eyes grew wide. "What?"

"Kiss. Since we're being watched," he added for clarification. It wasn't like he wanted to kiss her or anything.

Except he kind of did. Maybe? No. He didn't want to kiss her. He did not want to touch her lips. He sure as hell didn't want her lips to touch his, either. He didn't want to hold her cheek or her waist and sneak a taste to see if her lips held the flavor of beer or whiskey or the cinnamon gum she'd popped into her mouth after dinner.

"Do you think we should?" she asked. "I mean, we did just meet."

"You're right—"

"I usually don't kiss until I go out on an actual date," she continued. "And since that won't be happening—"

"I get it, okay? You're right. It was a stupid idea." Fuck, why had he let himself think he would enjoy kissing her? She was way too bossy for his liking. This whole thing was going to suck. Chewing on the inside of his mouth, he pressed his lips together briefly. "Sorry."

Her sigh lingered between them. Then she muttered something and stepped forward. Her lips tilted into a smile that made him feel warm all over. Her hand lightly grasped his bicep and he lifted his eyebrows when she leaned up. Lips soft as velvet pressed to his cheek and remained for several seconds and all he could do was sigh.

Adam pulled one hand free of his pocket and was milliseconds from placing at her waist when she began to pull back. A lock of her hair swirled against his cheek and he ignored the shiver it sent down his spine. He lifted his hand, eyes locking with hers as he reached to guide the tress behind her ear. He froze, held his breath, wondering what the hell he was doing. Her hair continued to dance against his cheek for a long moment. His lungs burned and he slowly released his breath as she raised her hand to sweep her hair behind her ear. The hand at his bicep gave a faint squeeze and he let his hand drop.

"How was that?" she asked, breaking the eye contact.

"Perfect," he whispered, darting his tongue over his suddenly dry lips.

She smiled. "Good."

"Yeah, good."

"Goodnight, Adam," she said. The hand on his bicep trailed down his arm before falling to her side.

He told himself the goosebumps were from the chill in the air. "Goodnight, Serena."

Watching her while she walked to her car, he pushed his hand deeper into his pocket and smiled faintly when she looked back at him before climbing in. He waited until her engine purred to life then headed for his truck, frowning when his fingers brushed against something in his pocket. He pulled it out and turned the object over, recognizing the shape.

The bottle cap from the beer he'd taken to her at the pool. He knew it was that one because he'd used the bottle opener and it had a dent right in the middle. He had no idea how it had ended up in his jeans.

"Huh." Shrugging, he shoved it back into his pocket and focused on more important things.

Why the hell had he almost put his hand on her waist when she kissed his cheek?

And why had he almost messed with her hair?

"Shit," he muttered while starting the engine. He shook his head and released a short breath that could have passed for a laugh. "Can't believe I almost did that."

Maybe he should have?

"Wait, no, that's stupid. She's not into me," he told the empty cab of the truck as he drove down the street.

She sure was good at pretending. Fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he waited for the light to change, he wondered what else she was good at.

"This is so fucking stupid. She's not into me. I'm not into her," he reminded himself with intensity. "We're pretending!"

***

Why had she kissed him?

Okay, so it had just been a peck on the cheek. But then like an idiot she had lingered. Had let that woodsy cologne loiter in her senses.

"Fuck me, I can't believe I kissed him," Serena groaned, turning off her shower. She had taken a quick rinse at Cole's but had needed to scrub all the chlorine from her skin and hair. Beginning to dry off, she went over those brief moments on the sidewalk.

Adam, looking almost adorable with his hands in his pockets. The tangible awkwardness because she had known their friends were watching. The shock when he'd asked if they should kiss. The sudden decision that fuck it, she had to make it look good.

His bicep, thick and hard under her hand. His neatly trimmed beard against her chin. His surprisingly soft cheek. Had she imagined it or had he seemed to enjoy it?

"Of course he enjoyed it, he's a man," she snorted. Wincing at the overt sexism, she muttered an apology to the powers that be and started combing leave-in conditioner through her damp hair.

"Shouldn't have done it," she sighed while putting on her pajamas.

She got her phone and crawled into bed. She called her mom and chatted for a while, catching up on life at home as she did every weekend. Then, out of habit, she opened Twitter. She supposed she should follow him. Britt would say something if she didn't. She found him and, after scrolling through some of his tweets, tapped the follow button. Feeling the need to post something, she slowly tapped out a few words.

Nothing better than spending hours talking with someone about mutual passions without worrying you look and sound like a dork.

Should she mention him? No. That would be taking it too far. She read it over several times to make sure the spelling was correct, then posted it. Pushing thoughts of Adam Page from her mind, she mindlessly scrolled through recent tweets, then went to her notifications to clear them.

And blinked in surprise when she saw that he'd replied to her tweet.

I'll drink to that.

She rolled her eyes and liked the tweet, closing the app after seeing that he'd followed her back.

"Shouldn't have done it," she said again, leaning to plug in her phone.

Not that he'd minded, though, right?

"Of course, he minded," she said aloud after switching off the lamp. "This is pretend!"

That little sigh was one of annoyance. Not his way of letting her know he'd liked her kissing his cheek.

"And I didn't like it either," she muttered, punching her pillow into shape. "Because I don't like him."

She couldn't like him. That would defeat the whole purpose of this crazy scheme. She just had to play a part. It wouldn't last long, after all. Their schedules were at odds, she reminded herself, ignoring the fact that Britt and Cole managed to stay together. She reassured herself that her fake relationship with Adam would last maybe a month. Two at the most. They'd end it amicably, and she would appear upset enough to get a promise from Cole and Britt that they would stop trying to match her up with all their single friends. All in all, it would be relatively easy.

Right?

#hangman page imagine #adam page imagine #hangman page fanfiction #adam page fanfiction #what the hell else do i put in the tags #i'd apologize for the length but LOL no #my fics #time to crawl back into my hole #edit: why doesn't tagging accts work properly why's it gotta be so hard #multipart:BITN