Chapter 14:

"What exactly happened with you and Trish?" Maria asked the following day, seated inside the arena's cafeteria and clad in a short jean Abercrombie skirt and a black backless halter top from Liz Claiborne. Jeff was in his usual ring attire, situated right in front of her. Their noses barely touched as they shared a tall glass of vanilla shake.

"It's pretty complicated," Jeff explained. But though it was, he still managed to elucidate the entire story. For some reason, he felt like Maria needed to know.

After hearing the story, Maria stayed silent for a few seconds. "So…you're still in love with her?"

Jeff immediately shook his head. "Trish was a really big part of my life. There's too much history there," he said. "But being with her on and off made me realize that there was something wrong. It was as if each day, I loved her and I missed her less and less…" he trailed off.

Maria eyed him intently but said nothing.

"It just saddens me," Jeff continued, "that we could've been this and we could've been that. There was so much that we could've done together. But that didn't happen. And it's discouraging. But the fact that I—"

"Jeff, do you like me?" Maria unexpectedly asked as Jeff was taken aback.

"Do I like you?" he repeated. "Do I like you?"

Maria's face appeared cool and calm as she nodded her head and looked him straight in the eyes. "Ever since…you know…we started hanging out, I never really knew what to expect. I mean…it scares me, and I guess it's understandable why. You're the most erratic person I know. Somehow, I still like being with you. But Jeff," Maria paused for a few moments. "I need to know where I stand."

Jeff noticed the glossiness of Maria's eyes, like she was about to cry, as he fought the urge to grin wide. Instead, he smiled a small smile and took her hand. "Maria, the question shouldn't even be, 'Do I like you?' anymore," he stopped, brushing her bangs off her face. "I'm going to take it as far as to say that I'm already falling in love with you."

…

"How long has it been?" Trish Stratus asked, referring to Jeff and Maria's budding liaison.

John Cena shrugged, sipping the last of his chocolate shake. "I don't know. It's been a few weeks, I think."

"Are they mushy or sweet or anything like that?"

"Not exactly," John replied. "They're both really childish. It's like they're meant for each other. They do the silliest things together that they would actually remind you of a little boy and girl. They have their own small world."

Trish nodded but didn't say anything.

"Why are you so curious? I thought you and Hardy were toast?"

Trish shrugged. "I guess I'm just not used to the fact that he's already dating someone else," she said sadly.

"He's not the only one free to date other people. You are, too," John pointed out.

"You don't understand, John."

"Understand what? I thought you were already over him? You let him go in the first place. You left this company to start a new life and settle down. Why'd you come back?"

Trish sighed and brushed her hand through her blonde hair. "I left because I wanted to forget him. But leaving only made it worse and now, I miss him everyday. I let him go because I thought I could. I came back because I realized all this time, I was never over him. That I'm still in love with him."

John Cena fell silent for a while. "So what do you plan to do now?"

"I don't know, John," Trish shook her head. "I really don't know."

John felt bad for her. She really sounded hopeless. "Tell you what," he started. "I'll help you figure this thing out."

That put a small smile on Trish's face. "Thanks, John."

…

Weeks passed as Randy Orton sat alone in the airport, waiting to be called for his flight to California. Even after how many days of contemplating, he still wasn't quite sure with the decision he came up with. But hell, he was going to do with it anyway. He looked around and sighed as he was dressed in a simple white cotton shirt with ¾ sleeves and a pair of khaki pants, both from Giordano. His two Samsonite hand-carries stood next to him while he looked through the songs of his iPod video.

Upon hearing the page that passengers were now allowed to board the plane headed for the West coast, he grabbed his black leather jacket and bags before making his way to the terminal.

A couple of hours later, he arrived in the LAX and took a cab to the five-star hotel that his best friend told him to go to. After reading John Cena's text for the third time, Randy paid the cab driver and entered the Beverly Hills hotel.

"Good afternoon, Sir. How may I help you?" asked the friendly male concierge.

"Hi, I'm here to visit someone. The room's 1131," Randy Orton answered.

The concierge was about to dial the room's telephone but Randy quickly stopped him. "I was kind of hoping to make it a surprise. I'm Randy Orton, by the way."

Hearing this name was all it took for the concierge to allow him up without having to warn the occupant of 1131. As soon as Randy reached the mini suite, he knocked lightly on its door. A few seconds later, footsteps were heard and the door was opened to reveal Stacy Keibler in nothing but a silk pink bathrobe.

This caused Randy to swallow hard.

"What the heck are you doing here?" Stacy asked, her eyes narrowed into slits.

Randy scratched the back of his head. "I kind of came here to apologize."

Stacy Keibler gave him a blank look. "That's too bad," she said. "You came here for nothing. Because I have no plans of accepting your apology."

Just as she was about to slam the door on his face, he stopped it. "Hear me out, Stacy," Randy articulated, his voice more stern now.

"Like you deserve it," she answered. "After everything you've made me go through?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Please, Stacy," Randy's voice softened as he felt so weak against her. "Please."

"The answer is no. So just go back home and do whatever it is that you have to do. Stay out of my life."

As soon as she was about to close the door again, Randy held it open and forced himself inside. "No, Stacy. You listen to me," he ordered, his voice rising a little. "I'm not going anywhere. You can ask a million security guards to come up here and kick me out, but that won't stop me. I'm staying here until next week whether you like it or not so you're just going to have to take me in. Either way, even if you kick me out, you know I'd still come back."

Stacy Keibler glared at him. "Just who do you think you are?"

Randy smirked. "I'm Randy Orton. And you know I always get my way done."

Stacy sighed in exasperation and eyed him for a few seconds before grabbing the telephone. Randy feared she was actually going to call security. But what she said made his insides ring in excitement. "Yes, hello housekeeping? I'd like to have an extra bed taken to my room, please. Yes, room 1131. Thank you."

"I always knew you couldn't resist me," Randy winked, placing his bags inside the room and lying down on Stacy's queen-sized bed.

"Even if I took you in, it doesn't matter. I'm still going to push through with everything I planned for this week, and I have something tonight," she told him, about to enter the bathroom. "So it's up to you whether you want to rot watching Cinemax or look for your own thing to go to because I'm sure as hell not staying with you. You can pay your share of the room by the end of the week."

Randy rolled his eyes and sighed in amusement. "Whatever. What are your plans tonight?"

"I have a date," Stacy simply replied before closing the bathroom door.

"What the fuck," Randy muttered, standing up and banging his hand on the door. "A date with who?!"

"That's none of your business!" Stacy yelled from inside.

"With who, Stacy!"

Instead of receiving an answer, Randy just heard the shower turn on. He sneered to himself and grumbled before walking back to the bed. As he lied down, he thought about his plan of getting back together with Stacy. He didn't know how to do it, but he was there which meant that there was no turning back. He didn't care about their distance or all the other hassles bound to be a part of it. Fact was…he still loved her. All he needed to know was that if she loved him in return and that was all that mattered.

Thinking about all of this caused him to fall asleep. It was only a few hours later when he heard voices that he woke up.

"You look beautiful tonight."

"Thank you."

"Where would you like to eat?"

"Anything Japanese is fine."

Randy shot up and immediately turned to look at Stacy and whoever her date was. His jaw clenched when he saw him.

Geoff Stults.

"Oh Randy, you're awake," Stacy chirped, a heart-melting smile painted vividly on her porcelain face. "Geoff, this is Randy Orton. Randy, meet Geoff."

"Hey man," Geoff smiled, holding his hand out. "It's nice to meet you."

Randy flashed a fake smile, one that Stacy knew was forged, as he shook hands with an uglier, shorter and less buffer him.

"So are you ready?" Geoff asked.

"Yup!" Stacy said, grabbing her bronze Juicy Couture clutch. She was donned in a beige baby doll dress from TopShop, way too short for Randy's liking, and a pair of felt brown boots by Marc Jacobs. Her hair was tied in a high ponytail with bangs left loose to frame her perfect face while a couple of large bronze hoop earrings dangled from her ears. "I'll see you later, Randy. Feel free to order room service," she waved before walking off with Geoff, who also waved goodbye.

Randy kept his smile up until the two left. His face was contorted in a mixture of jealousy and irritation. There was no way he was going to let Geoff Stults win over him.

He was much too hot compared to that guy.