ahhh! three chapters in one day! i think think iwas capable. my back aches from sitting in this goddam chair, my eyes are about to pop out from staring at this screen, and i think i may have developed carpal tunnel(sp)... but i think this is really good.

WARNING: sex scene! anyone who gets offended by this, just skip over this chapter. it won't confuse you if you do, i promise.

Chapter Eight

I paced the floor of my hotel room, dialing Cena's cell number into mine over and over. Either his phone was off or he was ignoring me. I was never this petty, this pathetic, when I was content just being his friend. I haven't even been able to focus on my career lately.

I had actually been in the ring last night. My feet had actually been planted on the canvas. That all didn't matter. Not if he was mad at me.

The worst part of it all was that I didn't know exactly how mad he was. I offended him, by calling his girlfriend some names that he knew I truly meant. I'd never done that before. If he was only a little mad, I could buy him a beer and all would be forgiven. If he was moderately mad, I'd keep recalling old stories of our childhood until he forgot about it. But I'd never mad him this mad before. I wouldn't know how to fix this.

I sat on the bed, curling myself into a ball. I wish I had a blanket handy to put over my head. There's never one around when you really need it.

I couldn't eat. Even if I tried, I don't think I'd be able to drink that much. I spent the night, sitting on the edge of the bed, just waiting for him to call me and tell me everything was okay. He didn't. I fell asleep waiting for him. I was still waiting for him when I got on the plane the next day to go home.

- - - - - - - - -

I woke up the next day to an ear-splitting knock on the door. It was the loudest knock I've ever heard, and I knew it was him. It was a constant knock. Another thing about Cena, if he was mad (at me or someone else) I had to drop everything was doing and tend to him immediately. Men.

I pushed back the silky sheets and fleece blankets on bed. Rolling on the small part of my back, I placed my feet on the floor and forced myself awake. The steady banging stopped as soon as I answered the door and stepped aside so he could come in.

There was nothing special about him except that he was brimming with frustration. He ripped the hat from his head and ran the brim of it through his hair. I stood there, leaning against the door, waiting for him to say something. "Help me understand..." He asked, the tone coming from his throat with a growl. "Please..."

"Understand, what?" I didn't want to push his buttons, which is why I just said what I said instead of saying what I wanted to. Help you understand why you're with her... I can't do that.

"Why do you hate her so much? What did she ever do to you? What did I ever do to you?"

Because she's dating you, she called me a slut, and you made me fall in love with you! "Now that's something you wouldn't understand." I sighed, walking over to my kitchen counter.

"I'm not kidding around here, Acelynn." Uh oh. He full-named me. "I'm about to put my fist through a wall if you don't tell me what's going on with you!"

"I can't." I whispered. Not to be dramatic, but now that he was here, I wanted him to go away.

"You can tell me anything. You always have in the past." He yelled. It should have been a trustworthy statement, but it was just anger.

"I can't!" I yelled back. The tension in the room was at a boiling point.

Could I really tell him that I loved him? What if he didn't feel the same way? What if he does love me? What if he won't leave McWhore? What if... He cut my thoughts off. "Tell me or so help me, Acelynn. I'm putting our entire relationship on the line right here and now."

"Yeah, well I am, too." All the yelling was giving me a headache. I couldn't take the stress anymore, so I told him in those three small words. "I love you."

Funny how three seemingly tiny words can become so big when put in the right combination. My entire life changed in that moment, and I was dead aware of it. I said it. The words were spoken. The ball was in his court.

He walked towards me, the anger in his eyes burning with such intensity that it made my knees buckle. Every memory of Cena I had stored in my mind fluttered around the room like a ghost waiting to be put to rest. I couldn't help but think that this was the end of it all. Everything.

The small things that we used to do never seemed important to m before, but now they all came painfully apparent. I guess the saying 'you don't know what you got 'till it's gone' is right. So unsparingly right.

He continued his advance, until he was towering over me, looming. He tightly clasped my shoulders in his large, strong hands. I truly thought he was going to hit me. My muscles went rigid as my entire body tensed. A knot formed in the pit of my stomach, knowing that I could never call him my 'best friend' again. I wanted to tell him something, say something comforting, but none of my words seemed good enough to define my hopes. Or fears, for that matter. "You hate me?" I managed, figuring something was better than nothing.

He didn't hit me though. He lifted my small, fragile body up until I met his eyes. He kissed me. Oh, how I loved his kisses. Open mouthed, tongue-dueling, teasing, mint flavored kisses that reached my core. The knot in my stomach unraveled in shear ecstacy as he mumbled the words, "I love you," as he moved his kisses to my neck.

I wrapped my legs around his torso and my arms around his broad shoulders. He intricately placed kisses around my neck as he laid me on my bed, applying his full body weight to mine. He rubbed his hands all over my body as they found the hem of my nightgown. He quickly removed it.

Moving from my neck torso, he cupped my breast in his hands as he slowly traced the lining of my nipple with his tongue. I wanted to scream, but I let it die in my throat. I struggled with his belt, as he unzipped his jeans. Reaching in his pocket before letting them drop to the floor, he pulled a condom form his wallet and handed to me. When his boxers were removed, I helped him slip it on.

He undressed the rest by himself then, gripping my thighs, slid my panties from my pelvis to the floor. He stepped between my legs and resumed his position on top of me, our tongues finding each other. He sank into me. Hard at first. So hard, he made me cry out in pain. "Damn." He sighed, moving his mouth to my ear. "I'll make it better, I promise."

And he did. He moved with a urgent, grinding beat. My fingers traced his hairline to his shoulder, where I clasped for support. And leverage. Touching his bare flesh, I arched my back and writhed closer to him, felling the rolls of sensation he was giving me.

My body locked with muscle tension as I dug my nails into his shoulder. He didn't seem to mind all too much. His hands grasped my butt, lifting my pelvis towards his pumping hips. With one last sensational plunge, an orgasm ripped through all my tension and made my body go limp. He pulled out, rolled off of me, and lay panting at my side.

Then my brain kicked in and made me think. "That probably shouldn't happen again." I whimpered, collecting my things and heading towards my bathroom. I left him laying there, completely naked and well endowed. When I reemerged from the bathroom, fully dressed and ast my senses, he was gone.