Brad, Bree, and … Brock

The next morning, Brad lay in bed thinking… and much to his surprise his thoughts were all focused on Bree. He thought back to when he first met her. How she seemed so tough and intimidating. He hated the sight of her. She was quite large – smaller than him, but large for a girl. Last night changed so much about her inner and outer appearances. She really was a pretty girl. The only thing that had messed that up for her was her aggressiveness. Brad smiled to himself. Out of all the girls he didn't think that he would like Bree the most. His bets were on Pebbles, even though she had an attitude problem.

"Earth ta Brad!" John called, interrupting his brother's thoughts. Brad sat up and looked at his brother. John was sitting at the foot of Brad's bed wearing his boxer shorts and a wife-beater.

"What?" Brad asked sounding annoyed. John looked hurt at his brother's harsh tone.

"Sorry." Brad said, seeing the look on John's face.

"I just had somethin' on my mind..." He said. John nodded.

"Well I'm gonna go get ready, I got match plannin' ta do." John said, getting up.

"K." Brad mumbled. John left to go take a shower. Brad decided to do the same, being that there were two showers in the hotel room. When Brad came out of the shower, John was long gone. Brad got dressed and walked off into the hall, hoping to bump into Bree.

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"Bree, what do you want for breakfast?" Brock asked, groggily.

"Nothing fancy… you don't have to order out or anything." Bree said.

"Fine, but what do you want?" Brock asked again.

"Something simple… Brad and butter would be fine." Bree said. Her eyes widened, realizing her mistake. She silently hoped that Brock hadn't heard her.

"What did you say?" Brock asked.

"I said… something simple like… bread…and butter." Bree said, not making eye contact with her older brother.

"Okay, get it yourself." Brock said, leaving the room.

"Asshole." Bree mumbled.

She got up and went to the counter to get the bread and butter when someone knocked on her door. She sighed. She knew it was Brock, probably forgetting something again. She swung the door open.

"I swear, Brock, sometimes – " She blushed. It wasn't Brock… it was Brad. "What up?" Brad asked in that cool tone of his.

Bree was standing there in pajama pants and a tight tank top.

"Nothing." She said, shyly.

"I was wonderin' if you wanna hang out or somethin'." Brad asked.

"I'm still in my pajamas." She said.

Brad smiled. "I can see that." He mumbled.

"Well… wanna come in?" She asked.

"Hell nah, your brotha would kick my ass if he found out I was in your hotel room."

"Well he's not here."

"Betta safe den sorry."

"I guess." Bree pushed her long blonde hair back.

"I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you." Brad said softly.

Bree blushed again, this time at his forwardness and honesty.

"Really?" She asked.

"Yeah… do I look like the type a person dat would lie?" He asked.

"No but –"

"Yeah, I thought so." Brad said, smiling. Bree smiled, too.

Just then, Brock appeared, hovering over Brad.

"What the hell is this?" Brock demanded. Brad looked petrified. Bree rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious!" Brock demanded.

"Brock –"

"Don't 'Brock' me! What the hell is this?"

"If you let me explain!"

"There will be no explaining!"

"Well then how can I tell you what the hell this is?" Bree asked.

"Don't back talk!" Brock scolded.

"Brock, shut up and let me talk."

"No! Brianna Nicole Lesnar, you are fifteen years old! What the hell is this… boy doing here?" Brock asked, saying the word 'boy' as if it were dangerous.

Bree opened her mouth to say something but Brock interrupted her.

"You're Cena's little brother, aren't you?" Brock asked.

Brad nervously nodded his head.

"Stay away from my little sister before I shove my foot so far up your ass, you'll be tasting rubber for a month." Brock threatened. Brad stared at the huge beast of a brother Bree had.

"Brock…"

"Stay out off this, Bree." He scolded.

Bree rolled her eyes, but kept quiet.

"Understood?" Brock asked.

"Yes." Brad whimpered.

Brock pounded the wall right next to Brad. Brad flinched. If Brock's fist was half a centimeter closer, he would've given Brad a black eye.

"Yes what?!" Brock demanded.

Brad swallowed hard. "Sir…yes sir." He managed to get out.

Brock stared at him.

"Leave." Brock ordered.

Brad looked at Bree with sympathy in his light brown eyes. He then turned and left.

"What the hell is your problem?!" Bree yelled at Brock.

Brock ignored her, getting his black gym bag that he left behind just moments before.

"Brock! You overreacted! He was just talking to me! We were just having friendly conversation. Then you had to come and mess it all up like the big moose that you are! Brock, you can't be like that all the time! You're not my father!" Bree shouted.

"Shut up, you're starting to sound like that Hardy girl." Was all Brock had to say.

"Ugh! Brock, you are so annoying!" Bree said, pounding her fist.

"I love you, too. Lock the door behind me and do not open it to anybody. Especially to Cena's little brother. If you do… so help me, Bree…" Brock said, pounding his fist, too. Bree gave him the finger and slammed the door behind him.

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Steiner needs his steroids and I need muh reviews!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!