You make me feel out of my element, like I'm walking on broken glass.

Like my world's spinning in slow motion and you're moving too fast.

- Aly & AJ "Chemicals React"

...

Well, if all else fails, I can move to Peru.

How bad can it be, we used to be best friends?

Just knock on the fucking door, Cena. Do it now.

I raise my fist, hesitantly wanting to knock. And I'm still not sure that I want to visit the girl. But hell, how much worse can my night get? I just lost to the Rock. I lost on the grandest stage of them all. I lost because I lost her.

And so now, I stand here, wanting more than anything to knock on her door and tell her how much I love her, how much I want her.

That match was mine. I had it won. I was gonna beat the "People's Champ," I just knew I was. All I had to do was pin him. PIN HIM! And that would have been it, I'd have sealed the deal, locked it.

But no.

I just had to go and get cocky. I just had to try to trump him, to taunt him, to add insult to injury. I should've known that he knows every trick in the book, because I know he does. He is the Rock, remember that, Cena?

What the cameras didn't see was that I saw him go after me with the Rock Bottom. I knew he was coming after me and I had the perfect chance for an Attitude Adjustment. But then I looked up and I saw her. I remembered that she'd tweeted that she was Team Bring It. Way to add the kick to the nuts, girl. Just like that, the leader of the Cenation lost his focus.

Over a woman.

Over a fucking woman!

One that I shouldn't even care about anymore, but I do. I care about her more than anything in the goddamned world! This includes my wife, you know. Not that I love her that much. Actually, it's sad, but I don't really care for her at all. I certainly don't love her. That's why I filed divorce papers this morning.

I've acted in front of an entire movie crew.

I've rapped for thousands in a single stadium.

I've wrestled in front of thousands as millions upon millions of people watched on television.

But I can tell you right now that I ain't never, and I mean ever, felt the butterflies that I feel at this moment. 'Cause I love this girl and she's not available. She doesn't return my feelings. I wonder if she even gives two shits about me. It certainly doesn't seem that way.

That's the way love works sometimes. You crawl to the one person you know you can't have because you don't know any different. It's the one type of pain that you can't force away. You see them with someone else and it kills you. You think about them and it tears you up. You drink all the whiskey you can and your conscience mind gets erased, but the minute you fall asleep...there they are in your dreams. And you don't think it's at all possible for your heart to break any more than it already had, but it is. It breaks and it breaks and you lose your mind trying to get over them.

But you never do.

You see it everywhere. You watch your best friend pine for the girl that he lost years ago, while you pine for her best friend. In a way, it's comforting, 'cause we all know that misery loves company. Deep down, you know that you're not the only one who feels this way, but you still feel like it. You weigh the options, what little ones you have.

You wind up like me, standing at their hotel room that they share with their boyfriend and you don't know what to expect.

And I finally knock, breathing in and out heavily, just waiting for the door to open and to slam in my face. Or for her boyfriend to punch my lights out.

But neither of that happens.

I hear the doorknob turn on the other side of the door and it slowly swings open with an obvious creak. Then, I see her gorgeous face, a stunned look pasted on it.

Now, this ain't the first time I've seen her tonight. Hell, I shook her hand on the way to the ring. I hugged her boyfriend, even though I hate that son of a bitch. Not only does he play for the Yankees (the Red Sox main enemy) and that he's with her. But still, my breath catches in my throat, as my blue eyes stare into her beautiful green ones that mesmerize me every time I see her.

For a few moments, neither of us say anything. I stare softly at her as she looks back, my heart hammering in my chest. I love this girl, no doubt about it.

She bites her lip, staring me up and down, obviously bewildered at my surprise arrival. "John?" she asks quietly, almost a whisper.

I love the sound of my name on her lips.

"Yeah...," I trail off, "is this...is this a bad time?"

She shakes her head and I hold back a sigh of relief. "Come in," she replies.

She stands close to the doorframe, stepping back so that I may come in. But before I do, I have to ask. "Is Alex-"

She cuts me off. "He's not here. He won't be back."

A wave of comfort passes over me and I walk into the room. As I walk past her, I breathe in her scent: white jasmine and peach and cherry blossom. I resist the urge to throw her onto the floor and fuck her until we both fall out.

She shuts the door, sighs, and turns back to me, as I stand away from her, unsure what to do next. She turns back to me and moves some strawberry blond curls out of her face. She gestures toward the ivory sofa to my left and I gladly oblige. She however, does not sit down. She remains standing.

"What is it, John?" she asks, folding her arms across her chest.

While I hadn't expected her to let me in so swiftly, I had expected her to do this.

I shrug. "I don't know why I'm here."

She gives me a hard look. "I can't help you if you don't tell me." Help.

As if that's what I came for. Ha, she wishes.

The words escape from my lips before I can clamp them shut. "Team Bring It?" I accuse.

She shrugs. "The Rock didn't kiss me and then tell me that he didn't want me."

I look down at the floor. This lie still makes my cheek burns. And it breaks my heart.

It was 2004. I was twenty-seven. I was stupid. It's as simple as that. But I think Torrie had legitimate feelings for me then.

Yes, it's Torrie. Torrie Anne Wilson, from Boise, Idaho.

Were you expecting anyone else? Because, seriously, who else could it have been?

I broke her heart, just like she's doing to my right now. But hell, 2004 was eight years ago! And when we kissed, she was with Peter Gruner. That dumb fuck.

I blow out a breath, waiting for her to continue. She crosses the room and sits beside me.

"Look," she says, "you lost. I'm sorry, but really, does it affect you that much?"

Does it affect me? No, Torrie, it just rips my heart out!

I shake my head. "You obviously don't know me that well."

"I know you better than you think," she retorts, flipping her hair away, which makes me flinch. Torrie smirks. "I knew you'd do that."

I hate what Torrie does to me. Just the sight- or smell of her can make me hard. I also hate that she knows it and uses it to her advantage.

"If it makes you feel any better," she says, "I just ended things with Alex."

It does make me feel better. I can't explain why, because just because she isn't with Alex any more, doesn't mean that I can have her.

"Is that the only reason you came here?" she asks, glancing at me, "to tell me that I was on Team Bring It?"

I shake my head. "We both know I'm here for more than that."

I can tell by her expression that she does know this. "Don't tell me that I want to hear," she says, glancing down.

I press my index finger on her chin and tilt her face towards mine. "What is it that you want to hear?"

She doesn't reply because I don't let her. Our faces, our noses, our eyes, our lips are too close together for me not to take my chance. And I do. I kiss her. And to my surprise, she does not turn away. Instead, she leans closer into me and I gather her in my arms and I just kiss her.

I never thought that I'd taste her lips again, but I have. And now that I have, I have to have more. But before, I have to make sure that she's not going to back out. I know that if we get to a certain point, I won't be able to stop. I pull back, gazing into her eyes.

"What is it that you want?" Torrie asks, boring her emerald eyes into my blue ones.

I lean forward and press my forehead to hers gently. "You know damn well what I want. Torrie, I love you...and I want you. I want you now."

Torrie doesn't say that she loves me, too. "I want you, too."

And that's good enough for me.

She is light, so I pick her up, bridal style and my mouth crashes down to hers again. Without hesitation, she runs her tongue down the length of my lips and I gladly allow her access to my mouth where our tongues interlock in a hot clash. I kick her bedroom door open and still kissing her, I gently lay her down on the bed. Torrie lets out a soft moan and that's when I harden. I know she feels it because she moves herself closer to me.

She's soft and I want to kiss her everywhere. I start at the side of her face and brush kisses down her face to her neck, where she is very sensitive. I know this because her knees buckle each time my lips touch her. She's shivering and I don't think it's because she's cold.

I'll admit it, I'm not going very fast. And you wanna know why? It's because I keep expecting her to change her mind.

But Torrie then reaches underneath my black T-shirt and yanks it over my head, running her hands all over my back and I'm pretty positive that she ain't gonna change her mind.

I move my mouth back down to her neck, circling it around, biting and sucking, anything for her to make that little moan again.

And she does, this time while pulling her white tank top over her head. Underneath it is absolutely nothing. It is two AM, so I can understand why she's wearing her pajamas. But the sight of her naked breasts are almost too much for me to bear. Intrigued, I curve my hands around them. And Torrie groans again, reaching for the zipper of my jeans. Curiously enough, it doesn't take her very long to get them off of me. I follow her and grip her light blue shorts off and as I am doing this, I catch her hardened nipple in my mouth.

Torrie's hand begins creeping down lower and lower until she reaches inside of my boxers and she rubs the side of my cock, stopping at the tip. And I just can't let her get ahead of me. My head drops down, down to the spot between her thighs. My fingers begin to tug at the lacy scrap of fabric that is her underwear. Useless shit, it is. I jerk them down, tired of the barriers, and she does the same with my barriers. I can tell that she's ready for me to penetrate her, but I'm not.

I let out a soft breath before my tongue slides around. And by now, she's so wet that I'm amazed. It's hard to believe that I have turned her on this much. And I love it.

"John," she says breathlessly, teeth gritted, "just fuck me already."

And so I do. I jump on top of her, holding her wrists down and pinning her arms to the bed. I press one more long kiss before thrusting myself deep inside of her.

I can tell you right now, I've slept with a lot of women. Yeah, I've made the rounds in the locker room. Hell, I'm married. Yeah, I'm cheating on my wife. I wonder if she's gotten the divorce papers yet.

"John," Torrie groans, and suddenly, I'm snapped back to what's going on.

And it hits me. I'm having sex with Torrie Wilson.

This goes on for a while until I know both of us are on the cusp of coming. Suddenly, it happens and I let out a huge breath. Torrie comes only seconds after me.

Instantly, I roll off of her and I expect her to yell at me to get out of her bed and out of her life. But she doesn't. She snuggles closer to me and places her head on my shoulder. Then, I feel tears and I don't know why.

"What's wrong?" I ask her.

She sighs. "I love you, too, John."

My heart begins to flutter. It's amazing how in this one night, I've gone from a broken, pathetic, waste of space to the most fulfilled man on Earth. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

"I know," she whispers back. And then she kisses me. "Please don't make me another one of your one night stands. Mickie, Candice, Kelly, Lisa Marie, I don't want to be one of your quick screws."

"I never slept with Kelly!" I exclaim, "That was Randy, remember?"

She smiles slightly. Of course she remembers. It's what broke he and Stacy up in the first place.

"I know," she replies, "why can't you guys be more like Jeff?"

I sigh. "Because unlike Jeff, we never screwed up with the divas we loved. That's why he's married to one and has a kid with her."

"Maria's lucky," Torrie shuts her eyes.

"You could be, too," I whisper in her ear.

"I know," she replies.

It's silent for a few more moments, as we are both lost in our own thoughts.

"What are you thinking?' I finally ask.

Torrie thinks for a moment. "I'm thinking...," she trails off before taking a deep breath, "I'm thinking I'm ready for round two."

A grin spreads across my face. Maybe Dwayne beat me at Wrestlemania. Maybe I'll be known as a loser for a while. Maybe my career won't ever be the same. But I got Torrie. And you know what?

Nothing matters more.