Chapter 3: Innuendoes and Misinterpretations (Christy's POV)

I pulled back, suddenly embarrassed at what I'd done. "I, uh...sorry. Shit, I shouldn't have..."

He placed a finger on my lips. "Shh," he whispered, before silencing me completely by taking my lips captive.

And at that moment, I knew I was done for.

Funny how a complete stranger can turn your knees to jelly.

I was so overpowered by his kiss that I found myself staggering backwards into a sitting position on the dresser, my back to the mirror. His hot, moist breath was all over my neck and his hands were all over my body...and then unzipping my jeans...unzipping my jeans? "Whoa! Wh-what are we doing?"

"I don't know," he panted into my ear, "what?"

"Uh, I don't think we should...um..." The heat between us made me forget the rest of my sentence. I let out a small gasp as he pulled the knot of my bandana and let it fall to the floor.

"You don't think we should what?"

"Never mind," I breathed, hastily unfastening his belt."Damn it, I so fucking want you."

-o-

It took me a few minutes to...recover. Wait, did I just do what I think I did?

Okay, let's look at this one at a time. My four C's of analyzing a situation (it's a guide I keep in mind, especially at parties): Clock? 11p.m. Clothes? Various places around the room. Christy? Sitting on top of the dresser in nothing but stilettos. Company? One sweaty, naked man in front of me, with my head resting on his shoulder.

...Yep, it's safe to say that I fucking did it.

He got up to put his pants back on. "Wow. When you said you'd make me feel better, I didn't expect you'd go the whole nine yards."

"Me neither," I said. "Hey."

He looked at me. "What is it?"

"I just realized that I don't even know your name." God, I am such a MORON! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

We glanced at each other, and burst into really weird and forced laughter. "Come to think of it, I don't know yours, either. My name's Jeff. Jeff Hardy."

"I'm Christy Hemme."

(Awkward silence ensues.)

In one quick motion I slithered back into my pants and hurriedly tied my top back on. "I should get going. Been nice...er, meeting you, Jeff." Gee, that didn't come out right, did it?

"Uh, yeah. You too."

As soon as reached my motorcycle in the parking lot, I sped off, feeling an impending sense of doom once I realized that Ashley would NOT let me live this down.

-o-

"You very well know that I have to leave for the next Raw show tomorrow, don't you?" my roommate inquired huffily as I walked into the apartment, my hair a total mess. "You don't have time for your dear roommate anymore?"

"Sorry about that," I exhaled sharply. I'd decided to avoid ridicule completely by not telling her about my encounter with Jeff.

She checked her watch. "Mind telling me what kept you up until 11:30pm?"

"I...um...had to wait for them to finish my script for next week."

"You're not holding any script."

"Really? Damn, I must have left it there."

She cocked her head to the side and looked questioningly at my top. "Why is your bandana inverted?"

I looked down. Oh, crap. "Well, it fell off in the locker room and I was in a hurry to put it back on. I guess I didn't notice."

Ash contemplated my answer for a few seconds before giving up. "Fine. I hope you had dinner because I already ate."

"Actually, I haven't." My stomach growled.

"Hmm."

I walked past her to the fridge to get something to eat, when I felt something move in my back pocket.

"A-HA!" she yelled triumphantly. I whirled around, and to my chagrin, there was, dangling on her finger, a shredded piece of red lace which I recognized as my own thong. "You DID something. Rather, someone!"

I could feel my face getting redder than the incriminating piece of evidence Ashley held and dropped to the floor in front of me. "Shit."

"Christy got la-aid, Christy got la-aid," she sang. "So who's the dude you did?"

"You, my dear, are so uncouth," I laughed.

"Come on, Christy, who was it?"

"Nobody you know." I hastily bit into a Pop Tart.

"Well," she said, sitting down on our yellow couch,"what happened?"

I narrated to her the entire sequence of events. She couldn't stop laughing. "So wait, Christy, let me get this straight: you dragged this guy to your locker room, wiped off his body paint, gave him a back rub, jumped his bones" -I cringed- "and then you found out his name?"

"Basically, yeah."

She patted me on the back. "Oh, Christy. To paraphrase your words, I think the common rule is to have sex after you go out on a date, not one hour into meeting him."

"Ha-ha-FUCKYOU." I'd been staring at the TV to avoid her mocking gaze for minutes until I realized that it wasn't even on.

"Well, was he good?"

"Oh, hell yeah. Best piece of ass I've ever had. There's this thing he does with his tongue..."

She shuddered. "Okay, too much information! And with that I take my leave goodnightChristyseeyatomorrow!"

Ashley ran off to her bedroom, leaving me alone to scour the fridge for another Pop Tart.

I couldn't stop thinking about what I just did. I don't think I've ever fucked up this big. (I mean figuratively.) Ever.

Well, it's alright, everyone makes mistakes. I just wish I'd known him at least a day before I had sex with him. (I am mentally slapping myself across the face right now.) Or at least known his name. Sure, people know Christy Hemme as a wild girl, but this is seriously the most reckless thing I've ever done. I'm normal, too! "Wild girl" is an image. This is reality. Will I even be able to look anyone straight in the eye tomorrow?

-o-

"Okay," I whispered to myself, drinking a lime-flavored Gatorade in the comfort and privacy of my TNA locker room. "Pretend nothing happened. He doesn't look like the kiss-and-tell type, anyway."

The sound of my locker room door bursting open sent me ten feet into the air. "Darling!"

"WHAT THE F--flowers." Upon seeing who it was, I sighed in relief and finished off my Gatorade. "Hi, Raven."

"So," he said, grinning, "was it good for you?"

He knows? I spat out my drink. "E-e-excuse me?"

"Guess not. I was just curious whether or not that Gatorade was any good," he said, pointing at the empty bottle in my hand.

"Oh, no, it is. You just kind of startled me." I started rummaging through my gym bag for some tissue, bending my head down just enough to get him to not see my face in case I turned beet red.

"I'm more of a tea, coffee and scotch guy myself."

I let out a short laugh. "Well, you and Ashley would be perfect together." I looked at the wall clock. "Hey, we should get going. It's showtime."

-o-

The lights were dim. My back was to the wall. He faced me, one hand on the wall for leverage. He eyed me seductively and lowered his head to meet my lips with his. I ran my fingers through his hair, his hand was on the small of my back.

"And cut! Good job, you guys."

I wiped my lips with the back of my hand. "Raven, sweetie, ever consider brushing your teeth before we do these scenes? You taste unpleasantly of beer."

"I'm hurt, honeybear." He pouted.

I laughed and slapped his ass. "Take it easy, pal."

Turning around, I saw a familiar blonde leaning against the doorway. "Ash! You're here early."

She attempted a smile, but I noticed her brows were furrowed. "Hello, Christy."

We'd been on the road for ten minutes with only the voice of Gavin DeGraw in the air. I broke the silence. "So where are we going?"

A shrug was all I got in reply.

"Where do you want to have dinner?"

"Dunno."

"How about that sushi bar a few blocks away from our apartment?"

"Okay."

"...Okay."

The CD stopped playing. Dead air again. "You're awfully quiet, Ashley."

"Hmm. Really?" I couldn't help noticing her frown.

"Yeah. Is there something on your mind?"

She pursed her lips and glanced sideways at me. "I was just wondering, is there something going on between you and Scott?"

"Scott who?"

"You know. Raven."

Well, that certainly came out of left field. "Uh, no," I replied."Where the hell did you get that idea?"

Her eyes redirected the road. "It's just that all the making out, and pet names..."

I couldn't help laughing. Silly Ashley! I just told her a few nights ago that I'd fucked someone else and she... "Come on, Ash, he's not even my type! We're just friends."

"Fine. If you say so." I can't believe she's making such a big deal about this. Unless she...oh.

Ten seconds of deafening silence passed, and an idea struck. I whipped out my cellphone and scrolled through the phonebook. "Hello, is this the Ritz-Carlton? I'd like to reserve a table for three this Saturday. Twelve noon. Christy Hemme. Thanks."

"Oh, what's that? You didn't reserve a room so you could have a three-way with Scott and Mr. Day-Glo afterwards?" she sneered.

"No, Ash, you're gross." I dialed a second number. "Raven! You free this Saturday? Great! Let's do lunch. You, me, and Ashley."

She glared wide-eyed at me. "What?"

I covered the mouthpiece. "Try and 'three-way' that. Eyes on the road, sweetheart." I went back to my phone conversation. "It's at the Ritz-Carlton, Raven, so wear something nice. None of those silly little skirts you wear. Yeah. Clean yourself up, and STAY AWAY from that black goop you like to smear all over your face. Good, good. My treat, duh. Buh-bye."

Clicking it shut, I looked at Ashley. "There. You happy now?"

"I, uh...come on, I don't even know him that well."

"Well, you spent the night at his place," I snickered. "Don't be such a tight-ass, Massaro. It's just lunch. I'll be there to make sure you don't fall or say something stupid on the way out. And I'll bring my taser to make sure you don't pass out, either."

She rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks."

"Hey, you know that black sparkly halter dress you have?"

-o-

The waiter set down a plate of mixed sushi in front of us. While waiting, Ashley and I had discussed how my new life in TNA was. We were now on the topic of my co-workers.

"Christian Cage was telling me the other day that the only thing hard about his decision to move was the fact that he wouldn't get to spend that much time with Trish anymore."

Ashley nodded. "She misses him a lot, I'll tell you that." Trish Stratus is her best friend on the current Raw roster, along with Mickie James (despite that silly little storyline she's stuck in at present).

"The girls here are great," I added."Miss Jackie is just fabulous, and Trinity is really nice. Gail Kim isn't too friendly, but we're getting along better now."

"Uh-huh. How's Scott doing?"

This is driving me nuts.

"Know what, Ashley? I have never seen you so worked up over a guy before," I told her honestly. "You hardly ever take men seriously."

She popped a piece of sushi into her mouth. "I don't know...it's just that Scott's really smart, and sweet, and one of a kind."

"You can tell after one drunken night?" I laughed. "You've got it bad, Ash!"

"Oh, shut up. What about you? How are things with you and Mister Mystery?"

Well, if I would tell anyone, it'd be Ashley. "His name is Jeff Hardy."

"Hmm. So he's Day-Glo? I've seen him on a few episodes of TNA before."

"Yeah, him," I replied. "Mind you, he's really hot without all that paint covering him."

"Well, he certainly leaves a lot to the imagination," she giggled. "So are you serious about him?"

Now that, I hadn't really considered. "I don't know, Ashley. I've only known him, like, one day. It's too soon to tell if there's a connection between us."

"Other than a physical one," she corrected with a grin.

"Riiight," I huffed, rolling my eyes. "You know, I don't really see it going anywhere. Maybe it was just a one-night thing."

She gestured at me with her chopsticks. "Christy, whether it's with Jeff or not, you should really consider getting back in the dating game. You haven't been with a guy in over a year."

"Oh, come on. I don't need a man to feel complete."

In the back of my mind, though, I knew she had a point. It's not like I'm desperate or anything, but I do want to settle down (maybe not soon, but someday), get married and have kids in the future.

-o-

I actually haven't seen Jeff since that night. I guess they don't call him the "Enigma" for nothing. "An espresso and an oatmeal cookie, please."

Ah, Starbucks. It's my favorite place to chill out, and thank God there's one in every corner. The one in Orlando is just a hop and a stride from our apartment, which is one of the reasons why I love living where I do now. I stop by every Saturday morning wearing my comfiest clothes; today it's a dark green sweater, a black skirt, and ballet flats. The weather is great this Saturday, too: windy, with just the right amount of sunlight.

My eyes roamed the café searching for an empty table. "Jeez, it's packed today. Oh, there's one!"

A guy was sitting by himself, his back turned to me. Black shirt, jeans, and a beanie on his head. "Excuse me, is this seat..."

He shook his head without looking up. I sat down at the only other seat at the table and looked at him. Wait, those green eyes...

Uh-oh. "Jeff?"