- Ok, ok, ok. . . - Maria let out an excited breath a huge smile forming on her face as a bunch of friends, WWE superstars and divas, were sitting on the floor, gathered around a small bonfire, which lightened up a dark sky. Some were drinking bear and making small conversations while the others put on marshmallows on long sticks, and baked them in bonfire. - I've got this. Paul, truth or dare?

- Dare. - Paul smiled locking his eyes on a young diva.

- I'm daring you to. . . uhm. . . - she thought for a second or two before another huge smile rose on her face. - I'm daring you to jump in the lake and come out here all wet. - she chuckled as Paul slowly put his beer bottle on the ground, took off his huge short sleeved shirt, stood up and headed to the direction of the lake nearby. Some followed him, of course, including Stephanie, his wife.

- Shall we continue? - Randy smiled following Paul with his eyes.

- Bring it on. - Trish chuckled breaking down her and Chris' kiss.

- Ok. - Randy nodded smiling. - Chris, turth or dare?

- Since I don't want to join Hunter swimming in the lake. - Chris smiled. - Truth.

- What is the most uncomfortable place you've ever had sex in? - Randy continued.

- Who told you I'm not a virgin? - he asked as guys chuckled.

- Having a wife like Trish? - Ted raised his eyebrow smiling. - Not a chance. - he shook his head as Trish smiled widely.

- It was at Christmas Eve dinner. - Chris put his beer bottle on the ground, taking Trish further into his embrace. - We did it in a closet in corridor, while our parents were praying for our souls. - he chuckled.

- God, you're nasty. - Maria giggled.

- You bet I am. - Chris sipped his beer.

- Talking about closets. - Trish raised an eyebrow. - Who do you think is in it right now?


- OK, the next two to go in a closet are. . . - Chris Masters spoke out as he took the baseball hat with a few papers in it. He put a hand in his cap and mixed it a little, only to make sure there is no cheating. - Whoopie! John's about to get some satisfaction. - he smirked as John stood up from the sofa, almost falling back down, since his head was spinning from an alochol. He wasn't usually the guy to get drunk, but for a reason known only to himself, this night was an exception. Layla shot him a warning glare. - And the unlucky lady. . . - Chris smirked taking another, pink, cap. - Stace, you're up!

- No way. - Stacy giggled as John stretched out his arm to help her up. Layla frowned watching the two as they made their way to the closet.

- The counting starts when you shot the door! - Chris reminded as the couple disapppeared in a dark and very small closet.

- I just got laid. - Morgan collapsed on a sofa besides Layla with a satisfied smile on his face. He put his both hands on the back of his head, showing that he difinitely felt like after "Seven Minutes in Heaven".

- In a standing position? - she mumbled under her breath. He was never on time. First he approached her when she was left alone in the party, then when she saw John practically flirting with Stacy, and know he came by when her boyfriend was in a closet with a leggy blonde. Layla wrapped her hands around her waist, swinging her leg, which was resting on her other leg.

- What can I say? - he eyed her. - Bella's got talent.

- Which one is a more skilled slut? Brie or Nikki? - Layla asked, her eyes almost burning the holes of the door where Stacy and John. . . HER John was in.

- I don't know. - Matt bit his lip, if Layla didn't know better she would have thought that she sees concern in his face. - Seriously, it's confusing. Those girls look the same. - he shook his head. - When I called her Brie, she giggled, when I called her Nikki, she frowned. What does it mean in 'Girls Body Language Encyclopedia'? Did she giggle because I called her her sister's name, or did she frown when I called her her sisters name?

- Does it matter now? - Layla rolled her eyes. - You already got your way with her.

- That's true. - Matt chuckled. - I sticked around calling her a Twin. - he smirked.

- That's smart. - she faked smile starting bitting her nails. What exactly was Stacy doing right now to her boyfriend? And what was he doing to her?

- Why do you look so pissed? - Matt asked. - Is it me pissing you off whenever I stop by?

- Matt, if you want me to be honset, right now, I couldn't care less about you, ok? - she responded. - Happens to be that my drunk boyfriend is stuck in a closet with a blonde chick who's got world's longest legs. So, yeah, I'm pretty much pissed. - Layla frowned even more. - I swear if she lays a hand on him. . . or if he lays a hand on her. . .

- Layla, chill. They're probably just talking. - Matt replied.


- This is just awkward. - Stacy giggled as John finished off his glass of vodka and put in on the shelf over his head. The closet was very small causing their bodies to press against each other. As much as he hated to admit, John wasn't really minding it. . . But it's just alcohol, right?

- I can almost feel Layla's eyes burning me from behind the door. - John chuckled raising his eyebrow.

- Why should she be jealous? - Stacy frowned. - That you're in here with me? Me? - she giggled. - I mean I can't even. . . - her sentence was cut off with a kiss. He didn't know why did he do that, but he wanted to blame everything on vodka. Just watching her naturaly red lips moving with every word she said, the soft giggles escaping her moth. . . he didn't want to shut her up. Actually, he wanted to hear her talking more, about doesn't matter what! But one wish was even stronger than that. He had to find out how did those lips taste. He hated himself, he hated vodka, he hated this guilt burning in him, but he couldn't help it.