PART 5

Trish's face wore an expression of great confusion as she glanced over at John, who had an equally puzzled look on his face. Stacy grinned as she watched the two stare at each other, her trance broken when she heard John speak.

"Woah... Stace, what is this?" he asked, gesturing to Trish. "You told me you needed me to come talk."

Whenever Stacy had called him in the past to come talk to her, it was usually - no, *always* - just the two of them. None of his friends, none of her friends... that was the way they liked it, especially considering the fact that their friends didn't always get along. So why, then, was Trish sitting right across from her, in *his* seat? Stacy's face still wore a wide grin.

"I know I did John, but I didn't me that I wanted you to come talk to *me*," she replied, her gaze casually slipping over to Trish. John put his hands up in protest, immediately realizing just why Stacy had called him. If she thought for one second that she could trick him into having a talk with Trish Stratus, then she had another thing coming.

"Oh, no way. IT's not happening Stace," he said, shaking his head firmly. Stacy sent him a serious look, sliding out of the booth and stepping up to him.

"Yes, it is," she said plainly. Then, turning to Trish, she spoke again. "I'm sorry, but I've got to go Trish. I haven't seen Andrew in awhile, and he's probably looking for me. Call me later."

With that, the tall blonde spun on her heels, her long legs carrying her swiftly out of the cafe. John looked after her, shaking his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe she had just done that. Now what was he going to do? Trish, who was still seated at the table, stared at John, dumbfounded. Her brown eyes remained whide as the young man shook his head once more, plopping down in the seat across from Trish, but not daring to so much as pass a glance in her direction. The two sat for minutes in what had to be the most uncomfortable silence known to mankind, before Trish finally decided to break the ice.

"I-I had no idea she was going to do this," she said, trying to shy away from any catty remarks she had in her head. The Canadian diva wanted to make it perfectly clear to Cena that she had *nothing* to do with the two of them being left alone. She could've killed Stacy at the moment.

"Yeah, I know you didn't," he replied, still not looking at her. "Lord knows you'd never allow yourself to be seen in public with the likes of me. Can't do anything to damage your reputation." Trish scowled... boy, things were certainly off to a wonderful start.

"Can you blame me?" she shot back, hurt and anger filling her eyes. "You haven't given me any reason to anywhere *near* nice to you. Why should I even give you the time of day?" John finally brought his gaze up to Trish, smirking and shaking his head.

"I'm surprised you'd even have a spare moment where you weren't preoccupied being such a bitch to even *check* the time!" he retorted.

Trish's angry gaze fell as she felt a pang in her heart. She was very confused at the feeling, not because of its sudden emergence, or because of the physical pain, but because her heart actually wrenched at John's comments. After all of the insults - tons far worse than the one just said - that he had slung at her, none had ever bothered her. BUt now, because she had let her guard down after hearing what Stacy told her about John's *real* feelings, the unthinkable had happened...

John Cena had hurt her feelings.

John noticed the pained expression immediately, but instead of furthering his attacks, his head dropped. He adjusted his hat, worrying that if Trish were to look up at him, she would see the concern and shame filling his eyes. He couldn't afford to give up the facade, not now, after all he had done to build it up. The only problem with that was that he wasn't so sure he *wanted* to be that way anymore. The thought that he could push anybody, especially someone as easy going as Trish Stratus, into absolutely despising him scared John. When he finally managed to let the concern drain out of his expression, he looked back up, noting that Trish was staring at him.

"Why are you such an ass if you don't have to be?" she asked sadly. "John, Stacy told me about your friendship, about the talks you guys have had. What have I done? What did I do that was enough to make you be so mean to me when you're so nice to her?"

John's eyes widened slightly at the mention of Stacy. He wondered just how much she had told Trish, but at the same time, he wasn't sure he even wanted to know. As if he hadn't confused Trish, and himself for that matter, enough the night he had helped her out at the club, any discussions on his actual feelings for her would only further that confusion. Standing up abruptly, John stepped out of the booth, putting on as cold of an expression as he could manage before speaking once more.

"I guess I just don't like you, Trish."

LATER THAT NIGHT

Trish slowly approached her hotel room door, digging in her purse for the keycard. When she reached the door she had still not located the card, so she paused, rummaging through her gym bag as well. She groaned with annoyance as she suddenly realized that it had been in her pocket the whole time. She slid the card into the slot, yawning as she waited for the green light to appear. She had spent a good few hours after the disaster in the cafe with John Cena moping around in her room. The events of her day had certainly put her in a sour mood. Instead of sitting around in her room moping all night, Trish decided to exude her energy in a more positive way... so, she went to the gym.

After spending nearly two hours in a local gym, she was sweaty, exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to go to bed. Her long yawn finally coming to an end, Trish pulled the keycard out of the slot. She pushed  down the handle and pulled the door open, her eyes widening in shock as she watched a hand come out from behind her and push the door shut. Her stomach dropped as she wondered who in hell was standing behind her. She slowly turned around, meeting a pair of fierce blue eyes.

"J-John?" she said, in a tone that was half questioning, half startled. Sure enough, John Cena stood behind her, his eyes locking intensely with hers.

"Trish," he said plainly.

Trish merely stared at him, her brown eyes wide as she wondered what he could possibly want with her. After he had left her so abruptly in the hotel cafe earlier, Trish didn't think he would want to have anything to do with her. She could feel his eyes burning holes into her skin as he stared at her, his gaze not wavering for a second. The intensity on his face was so strong it was almost frightening. She chewed her lip nervously, her hand gripping the door handle so tightly she was positive her knuckles were turning white.

"Um... can I help you?" she asked, frowning at the meekness in her tone. John didn't move a muscle.

"Yeah, actually,"he replied, his voice deep and firm. "I think you can."

Trish tried to speak, but she could barely move her mouth to form words. Everything she tried to say all came out as a tiny squeak. She stood there, pressing her back up against the door, when finally, John took action, doing something she wouldn't have seen coming in a million years...

He pressed his lips roughly to hers, kissing her with all his might.

Hope you still like it! You know what to do…