The pregnancy hormones were driving me out of control and I haven't been with anyone since Jon. I think it's why I took the opportunity to solicit Punk after he did the promo dressed as Jeff Hardy. My body had softened a little bit but I hadn't really started to show yet. It was my last opportunity to be with someone for a long time and I wanted to take it. Punk was in a program with Jeff Hardy, a notorious abuser of drugs. Jeff left the company after a pay-per-view match with Punk but no one really knew that yet. The next Smackdown taping after the ppv, Punk surprised the live crowd by dressing as Jeff, in clothes that Jeff would wear, face painted up like Jeff did, and to Jeff's music. It was ingenious. The crowd really thought it was Jeff Hardy until he began to speak into the microphone. The reaction from when the audience thought it was Jeff to when they realized it was Punk was amazing. I approached Punk as soon as he got in the back.

"That was hot." I told him.

"Thanks."

"No, I'm serious. You had the crowd in the palm of your hand the entire time. They really thought it was Jeff! And the reaction you got when they realized it was you…" I bit my lip. Punk smiled at me, noticing.

"You liked that, huh?"

I nodded. "Listen, no strings attached. I'm just throwing this out there. I'm at the Ramada, room 312. Come see me tonight." I instructed.

He did as I suggested and we spent the night together. It felt like old times with him. I could almost fool myself into believing everything would be alright between us. We spent hours just being with each other and enjoying each other's bodies that I felt great afterward. At least until he began to talk.

"No strings attached?" he asked.

"Listen, Punk. It was just a one night thing. I haven't been with anyone in a while." I tried to sound casual.

"And I was just the guy to scratch your itch?"

"Don't be so condescending."

"I'm just saying, Cena isn't going to be happy that you jumped into bed with me."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't think John cares who I sleep with."

"Some relationship you have there if your boyfriend doesn't care."

"He's not my boyfriend. If he was, you wouldn't be here." I told him matter-of-factly.

Punk snorted.

"Are you kidding me with this? You still believe that I'm with Cena?" My nostrils flared.

I sat up in bed, my eyes blazing.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not dating John?"

He shook his head. "None that I will believe. I've seen the two of you together. I used to know you better than anyone, remember?"

"At one point, I believed that you did. But if you really knew me the way I thought you did, you wouldn't believe that I was capable of hurting you or blatantly lying to you about it."

Punk shrugged. "People change." he stated simply.

"You know what, if you believe such lies about me, why did you come here?" I demanded to know.

"You said it was no strings attached. And this was always an area that you and I were amazing at. I figured if Cena wasn't getting the job done that I could help you out just this once." He said smugly. "Besides, you offered. And I figured I could hit it before you got fat and unattractive."

"You are such an unbelievable asshole!"

"Hey, you invited me."

"That was my mistake. I don't know what I was thinking. This is insane. You need to go. Get out." I said, throwing his shirt to him.

Punk shrugged and got out of the bed, as if I had just asked him to get the newspaper. I picked up a crystal vase on the nightstand and threw it against the wall, shattering just to the right of his head, almost hitting him.

"Temper, temper." He said with a smug look, leaving the hotel room.

I was fuming for days. Colt knew better than to even mention Punk's name to me when we talked later. Thankfully, we weren't at TV tapings so I could avoid Punk until that Tuesday.

"You did say it was no strings attached." Tamma reminded.

"I tried. I thought I could leave out the emotions and just focus on the physical. I thought I could but I failed." I told her miserably.

I had to force myself into the building the following week for TV. I wasn't sure I had it in me to face him without either crying or starting a fight.

"Hello, Mommy Dearest." he chided as we began going over the plan for the evening. I ignored him.

"Told you Cena wouldn't be happy you went to bed with me."

"And I told you that John had nothing to do with last week."

"Maybe he should have instead of me." He told me. There was something that resonated in his voice as he spoke.

I rubbed my right temple. This conversation was giving me a headache.

"You didn't have to agree." I told him.

He shrugged. "So what happened between you two? He must have done something right before if you were willing to pass me up for him. So what happened there?"

"I didn't pass you up for him! I told you, nothing has ever happened or will ever happen between me and John."

He shrugged again. I wanted to kick his head from his shrugging shoulders.

"You're an asshole." I spat the words at him.

The right corner of his mouth with his lip ring twitched, almost giving a smile. There was a part of me deep inside that I could feel give when I saw his amusement. I reached my hand back and slapped him hard across his right cheek. The slap reverberated across the room, stopping everyone's conversations as they turned to watch the scene about to unfold. Punk raised his right hand to his cheek, feeling the heat come from my slap. I had hit him so hard that you could see the outline of my fingers on his skin. I was expecting him to be angry but instead his brown eyes shined with amusement.

"Now you're learning." Punk said with a chuckle.