Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Jayme. The rest are the respective properties of the WWE and themselves.
He offered up a warm smile, drawing her eyes to that sensuous mouth. "Hey," he held out his hand. "I'm Matt."
She shook it, quickly forgetting her tongue. Surely he wasn't genuinely interested. Why wasn't he intimidated by her? "I'm Jayme."
He looked into her eyes, still holding onto her hand. "That's a pretty name." He seemed to remember where he was, and he dropped her hand. "Sorry," he said with a sheepish grin. "That sounded like a line."
She chuckled. "Not at all. I just don't know how to take a compliment."
He glanced down at the drink in her hand. "Let me buy you another of whatever you're drinking."
Smiling, she nodded. "Club soda."
He didn't make it over to the bartender before someone grabbed her arm. "Time to go, Jayme."
Bradshaw. "I'm trying to hold a conversation here."
He started nudging her toward the door. "I've got my orders."
Matt was watching the scene with a look of defeat. She sent him a helpless look and a little smile, hoping he would understand.
Once she was outside, she spun on him. "I'm not ready to leave."
He walked in the direction of the car. "It's past your bedtime."
She seethed. Crossing her arms, she followed him mutely, contemplating the many ways to torture one human being before they ultimately expired from blood loss.
She let him drive her to the hotel, where she tried sleeping, but was too angry to do so. One glance at the clock told her it was one o'clock. She slipped on a pair of jeans and her boots, and headed down to the lobby, hoping the restaurant was still open.
She was in luck, and sat at a table in the back, ordering a salad and a water. A long shadow fell over the table and she looked up. "Matt," she said, thoroughly surprised.
"Can I join you?"
She nodded. "I'm sorry about what happened earlier."
He brushed his fingers over the hair on his chin, and with amusement shining in his eyes, he replied, "I'll admit I was a little confused."
She smiled. "Yeah, my brother's guard dogs wont let me have any fun."
He folded his hands in front of him on the table. "Unfortunately, I have to go. Mornings come way too soon."
"Oh, okay," she muttered, trying to hide her disappointment. She would thank Mark later for scaring off any guy that looked her way, like she had an abundance of them.
"Would you have breakfast here with me?"
Her head shot up. "Yeah."
He gave a nod and a smile. "About ten o'clock, then?"
"See you then."
He turned and left, tossing, "'Night, Jayme," over his shoulder.
She grinned at the sound of her name on his lips and watched his long strides until he was out of sight.
She finished her salad and was on her way up to her room, when someone closed a hand over the back of her neck. She froze, then smiled.
"I've only been gone three days."
"I missed you," he said quietly.
She sighed. Sometimes he could be very sensitive. "If I turn around, please tell me you're not going to choke slam me," she said, trying to sound disdainful.
He scoffed. "Why would I choke slam my favorite baby sister?"
She shook her head in mock exasperation. "Glenn, I'm your only baby sister."
He spun her and she was engulfed by two massive arms in a hug that nearly knocked the wind out of her.
She poked him in the chest. "What are you doing here in the middle of the night?"
"I was waiting to switch planes, so I thought I'd drop in. I'm headed right back out the door, though, in about twenty minutes."
"You should be resting at this hour." She poked him again, near the ribs, and he flinched. Jayme had to bite back a grin. Heaven forbid people should discover that the formidable Kane was as ticklish as a school girl.
She led him in the direction of the elevators.
They stood in silence for a moment as it went up until he inquired, "Is Mark taking care of you?"
'Care' wasn't a strong enough word. "Yes, Glenn, but you know I'll be twenty-one in two months. I can take care of myself."
He shook his head. "Jay, you know there are people out there who can hurt you, especially because you're my sister."
She rubbed her temples for a moment, feeling a headache coming on. She couldn't count the times she'd heard the same thing over and over and over. "Fine, you win."
He offered up a winning smile. "Good."
She pursed her lips. There were times when she'd like to draw back her fist and punch him right in that stubborn chin of his. What was worse is she knew she couldn't knock him down and he would just laugh at her.
Trying to lighten the mood, she turned to him and said something she knew would set him off. "I wonder if I could kill you," she poked him in the end of his nose for effect, "and just be an only child."
The elevator doors opened and he gave her an 'I dare you' look and lifted her over his shoulder.
Used to, she would shriek and beat on him, demanding she be let loose, but now she just propped herself up on her elbows against his back, resting her chin in her hands, sighing.
She couldn't imagine the sight they made to any passerby as they walked along the corridor.
"What room you in?"
"1268." She reached behind her and pulled the keycard out of her back pocket and handed it to him.
He unlocked the door, and the next thing she knew, she was sailing through the air, landing with an, "Oof!" on the bed on her back as he flopped her there like a sack of grain.
He was sitting in a chair when she finally looked up, flipping channels on the TV. "Do you need anything while I'm here?"
Besides and AK-47 to shoot John Bradshaw in the face with? "Nah, I'm okay," she replied, hoping Glenn couldn't sense her anger. He would just go through this little spiel about it being for her own good.
Since it was her body, her mind, and her life, wouldn't she know what was her own good without the help of outside sources?