A/N: Yea me! I wrote another chapter and am ¾ finished the one after this. I don't know how long the mojo will be flowing, but I'm going to keep writing while I can!
And thank you to those of you that expressed concern and compassion over the issues I've been having in my real life. Writing takes a backburner to my family, and I appreciate your understanding!
This was odd. Not since he met her could Randy remember not being able to find something to talk about with Parker. Even though she said she wasn't mad, but he didn't believe it. The entire drive to the hotel he could feel her eyes boring into him. But what had he done wrong? Their meal was free and all it took was a smile, a wink, and an autograph. It wasn't like he stood on the table and pulled his pants down for the waitress or anything. If he had, he was convinced that he would be a co-owner of the M&S Grill by now.
This boyfriend thing was complicated. When he and Parker discussed taking their relationship to the next level, they agreed that nothing between them had to change. The guidelines said that they weren't to lie to one another and that they wouldn't fuck around with anyone else. Well, he hadn't done either and somehow he still managed to fuck up.
He knew he could make it up to her, but she had to actually talk to him for that to happen. Well, not really. There wasn't a lot of talking necessary for him to tell her that he was sorry. All she had to do was step in the room and see all of the effort he had put into making tonight special. Not that he really did anything, but make a phone call. But, if the concierge got it right, there would be a bottle of champagne chilling, rose petals on the bed, and chocolate covered strawberries waiting for her. There was even to be a hot bath filled with bubbles for them. He really didn't think they needed all of that, but the concierge woman seemed to think it was a good idea.
He did know one thing for sure: romance wasn't really his thing. And just in case Parker thought this elaborate set up was corny, he had a back up plan. Randy's idea of setting the mood was Marvin Gaye queued and ready for him on his iPod. There was a porno already loaded in the DVD player. And Parker's gift was wrapped to perfection, waiting for her in the bathroom for when she stepped out of the tub. Whichever she preferred, Randy Orton had all of his bases covered.
Truthfully, he had done all of this before the little restaurant incident. He had been planning it for a minute. With the outfit he'd bought her, he just wanted to make the night special. Do something different to let her know that he thought she was special. But now, she was going to think it was his way of trying to make up for fucking up. And he wasn't.
Parker looked around the hotel room in shock. It was beautiful. Never before had she had a man take so much time to make an evening with her special. She couldn't help but to smile as she touched the bed and felt the silky rose petal beneath her fingers. It was a sweet gesture. But it would have been even sweeter, if Randy hadn't been such a dick earlier. "This is nice."
"I wanted us to have some time alone together." Placing his card key on the table, he watched her as she picked up the bottle of champagne and looked at the label before quietly placing it back in the bucket. She wasn't drooling. She wasn't stripping for him right in the middle of the room. Apparently this was going to be harder than he thought. "If you don't like all this, I got Little Oral Annie and some Marvin Gaye…"
"This is fine, Randy." She couldn't stop the chuckle that came from her throat at the little boy look on his face. Did he really think that Little Oral Annie was going to make up for the little stunt he pulled earlier? "This is really nice."
She said it was nice, but she didn't sound too damn convincing. Moving over to where she stood, Randy turned Parker around to face him. "Pooh, I said I was sorry. I was just trying to get us free food. That's it."
"And I said I'm not mad."
"You sure?" When Parker nodded, he ran his hands down her arms and took her hands in his. "I got you something. Well, me something. Well, I guess it can be for us, or whatever." He had hoped that they would be taking a bath together. Maybe finally fulfill that little water fantasy he had with her. But from the look on her face, it was probably a better idea to let her bathe alone. Besides, once she saw that little number he picked up for her, she would forget all about his previous indiscretions. Girls were into that kind of thing. Even if he didn't need all of that, he was sure it was going to make her feel better.
Parker allowed herself to be led over to the bathroom and her mouth fell open at the sight. There were candles, and bubbles and fluffy towels – it was beautiful, just not Randy. "You did this?" She looked at him and shook her head at that damn smirk on his face. "You're pretty proud of yourself, aren't you?"
"Just call me Mr. Loverman." At least she was talking to him now, but it still didn't feel right. Parker was standing too far away from him. She wasn't flirting back with him. If he walked her into the bathroom and took her clothes off at this point, he was sure he would have gotten punched in the face. No, perhaps the best thing to do was to let her take a few minutes to herself, while he waited in the other room. Maybe after a hot bath she'd come back to the bedroom all refreshed and over her attitude. If not nothing else, he could start on the movie while she was calming down. "Look, take your time in here. I'm gonna chill."
Nodding Parker watched as he closed the door and looked around at what he had created. She hated that she was so annoyed with him at the moment, when she really wanted to thank him repeatedly for his efforts. But she couldn't get over it. How would he feel if she flirted with someone hardcore in his face? It wasn't a good feeling, even if it was a familiar one to her. She was used to not being enough for a guy. She was used to seeing guys that she crushed out making a fool of themselves in front of Avery. She was used to guys flirting with other women, then talking to her as an afterthought.
The only difference was those guys weren't her boyfriend.
"What'cha reading?" Jeff turned out the bathroom light and made his way to the bed. It had been a long and drama filled night, and truthfully all he wanted to do now was to get comfortable. He laid on the bed, on his side, and faced Avery. Whatever she was flipping through, she really seemed into it. "Helloooo?" He poked her in the side, to get her attention.
Looking down at him, she smiled. He was so cute. How in the hell did she end up with this super sweet man, when she had as much shit with her as she did? Just once she wished that could check her temper so that Jeff didn't always have to babysit her. That shit was going to get old after awhile. He was a sweetheart. Definitely not someone that should have ended up with an insecure scrappy hood-rat like Avery.
"How would feel if I had big boobs?" Crossing her legs at the ankles, she looked down at her pedicure instead of at Jeff's face. If she had looked at Jeff's face, she might have noticed that he was looking at her like she was crazy.
Closing his eyes for a brief second, Jeff tried to collect his thoughts before he spoke. He didn't get mad often, and he almost never raised his voice. But when Jeff was serious, no one questioned what he meant. "Avery. We've had this conversation. There is nothing wrong with your chest." Taking the booklet out of her hand, he looked at the page that she had turned to, then up at her face. "What's this?"
"Nothing." Why couldn't he be excited about her dreams of being voluptuous? She was doing this for him, after all. And he didn't seem the least bit grateful.
"You went to a doctor about this?" Sitting up on the bed, Jeff noticed how she refused to meet his eyes. "Are you fucking kidding me? What do I have to do to show that you're beautiful without getting plastic surgery?"
That tone of voice he was using was stern, and something that she wasn't used to. But damn if she wasn't turned on by it. Jeff displaying authority. That was hot. "I didn't do it, yet. I just went to see what could be done."
"Why?"
"Because…you're around these beautiful, busty women all day long and you're coming back to your room with me. I want to look like them. You'd be more turned on, if I looked like them." Apparently that was the wrong damn thing to say because Jeff got off the bed and placed his hands on his hips. The way he looked at her, she had never seen him so agitated since she had met him.
He wasn't going to yell. But she needed to know that this was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. "Me? You're willing to mutilate yourself for me? Did I ever ask you to? Have I ever said that I wasn't happy with anything about you?"
"No." She answered quietly. "But Jeff, I gotta lotta shit with me. You can't take me out without me carrying the fuck on. I don't like those skank bitches back stage. We don't hang out with your friends anymore because I still owe Haas and Cena a beat down and when I see them bitches, I'm cashing that shit in..." She was veering from the subject and noticing the smile on Jeff's lips.
Although Avery was a lot to handle at times, her devotion to her friends was one of the most beautiful things about her. And the fact that she had no fear was such a turn on to him. Even if it wasn't what he was used to, and something that he never thought he wanted. He did want it, because it was part of her. "Avery, I don't mind your temper. I know you do it because you care about the people you love…and because you have some insecurities. I can live with that. But what I can't live with is you wanting to change for me."
"I just want to be in your league."
"Well, I don't like busty women! I like normal looking girls that are proportionate!" He yelled. He didn't mean to yell. But what the hell was she talking about being in his league? What league did he have? He was a backwoods Hill-Billie that lived in a fucking trailer. He wasn't a bawler. He damn sure wasn't a player. He was the weird guy that always had to analyze every damn thing. "Look. I like everything about you. I love you and it ain't got nothin' to do with your chest size. So if you're doin' this for me, don't. I don't want it."
Did he just say he loved her? What the fuck was she supposed to do with that information? It was one thing to make sure that he stayed interested in her as his girlfriend. But now she had to keep him in love with her. And whether he admitted to liking busty women or not, she noticed the way he looked at Jillian's chest first and her face second. He never did that with her. "Wait, you love me?"
Nodding his head, Jeff sat back on the bed next to her. "Yeah."
She couldn't for the life of her fully understand what that meant, because the only thing she could think about was how much more he would love her if she were more well endowed.
The bath had been just what Parker needed. It seemed like all of the irritation she was feeling for Randy a few minutes before seemed to go down the drain with the water. He had apologized. What more did she want from him? He was sorry, he made it up to her in a big way. She wasn't ruining their weekend together being mad about that stupid waitress that she would never have to see again.
Walking over to the counter, she looked at the wrapped box and shook her head at what other surprises Randy might have had in store for her. Carefully pulling the bow off of the box, she untucked the corners of the wrapping and removed the lid. Lingerie. Not something that she was normally into. And if she had to pick what she would wear, this wouldn't be it. But Randy had picked it out for her. He must've thought that it was nice. The man had limited taste, that's for damn sure.
She picked up the laced panties and held them up. "Wait." Why were they so small? Sure lingerie should be fitted, but was it was supposed to be tight? It wasn't like she ever really tried to wear it before, so she wasn't what anyone would call an expert. But she could judge by stretching out the elastic sides that her big ass wasn't fitting in them. Sitting them down on the sink, she went to pull the bodice out of the box. "He has got to be fucking kidding me."
Did Randy look at her at all? How in the hell did he think she could fit into a size ten anything? She hadn't been able to wear a ten since about the fifth grade. It was amazing how that one sweet gesture made her feel fat. Parker never felt fat. She knew that she was, but in her mind, she was smaller than she actually was. She felt cute, and average. Hell, as long as she didn't compare herself to other people, she could convince herself that she was small, for someone her size. It wasn't until she got a brief glimpse of how Randy saw her that she felt like a beached whale.
This wasn't his fault. She shouldn't be mad at him, but she couldn't help it. He was supposed to see her for who and what she was. He wasn't supposed to try to make her over. At least if he was going to buy her something so small, he could've gotten it in cotton she could have tried to squeeze her big thighs into it. But lace? That shit would have torn if she even attempted. And then what? Be humiliated walking out of the bathroom with holey panties on because her fat couldn't be contained in them? Fuck that.
Reaching for the robe on the back of the bathroom door, Parker looked at herself in the mirror and held her head high. "I am the body beautiful." She hadn't had to tell herself that in months. Not since that time she had first hooked up with him. Randy saw her that way, at least she thought. Now she wasn't so sure. "I'm a supermodel. I'm sexy whether I rock a t-shirt to sleep, or dress up like his fantasy." She didn't believe a word that just came out of her mouth, but she would damned if he would know that.
Randy's smile slowly slid off of his face when he saw her discard the robe and pull an oversized t-shirt out of her bag. She was supposed to be smelling all good, like lavender bubbles, and wearing his outfit. He was supposed to be dimming the lights and putting on Marvin. "Uh…something wrong?"
"No." She answered making her way to the bed and pulling back the covers. She was determined she was going to do this. She was going to make him see that she beautiful at a size 26, even if she didn't feel it on the inside right now.
"So, why you ain't wearing that outfit? You don't like it?" It was classy, like her. It wasn't nearly as nasty as he would have liked for it to be. He figured he'd work up to that. He didn't want to come busting all out with all of his kinkiness this early in their newfound relationship.
Parker shrugged and pulled the covers down on his side of the bed. "Does it matter?" She motioned for him to join her pulled his face down to hers when he was close enough. She kissed him harshly, like she was trying to prove a point. If she had to go all out porn star on him tonight she would. And he would never make that mistake again.
Whether she was wearing a t-shirt or a teddy, it didn't matter. Randy was going to get some ass with the lights on, and porn was playing in the background. His whole super romantic evening hadn't gone off the way he planned, but this was way more his style than all that other shit. It was shaping up to be a great evening. But, when his hand slid up her night shirt, he felt her push it back down. "What?"
Parker shook her head, and kissed him again, her hands trailing over the muscles on his back. She was determined. Her hand made it to the waistband of his shorts and around his length causing him to groan. They were going to do this her way.
Again Randy tried to put his hand up her shirt to get to her breast, and again, she pushed his hand away. "Take the shirt off." He whispered, his eyes closing at the feeling of her hand on him.
But Parker wasn't about to. Obvisouly he didn't like all that she had to offer, so he didn't need to see all that hanging under it. He could fuck her without the shirt coming off.
This wasn't right. This wasn't how Parker and Randy got down. Rearing back on his knees, Randy pulled her up with him. He had a serious look on his face as he reached for the hem of her shirt and tried to lift it up her body.
"Randy…"
He didn't know what the fuck was going on, but this was bullshit. As many times as they'd had sex, and all the many ways they had done it, now she was modest? What the fuck was that. "What's going on?" He watched as she shook her head and he felt temper start to rise. "Then take off the fucking shirt."
"Why?"
"Cause I wanna feel you." He had never lost the mood in his life. But right then, he didn't want to have sex with her. He just wanted to know what the fuck was going on. "Look, I said I was sorry. I didn't know this whole dinner thing was going to fuck you up like that."
"It's not about dinner." Getting up from the bed, Parker walked over to her bag to look for a pair of underwear. If he wanted to have a bitch fit about her shirt, then fine. They weren't doing anything tonight.
"Then what the fuck is it about?" Folding his arms across his chest, he looked at her with that scowling line increasing in between his brows.
"It's about you and what you like. I'm not a skinny bitch and I never will be! Those girls you work with…that waitress…them skinny bitches that keep your nose open, I'm not them, Randy! I will never look like them!" She couldn't believe she had to explain that to him. He of all people was supposed to understand that, and accept her, regardless.
Had she gone crazy? Did she sneak the champagne into the bathroom with her? She had to be drunk, because he didn't know what the fuck she was talking about. "I don't want you to look like them! Fuck them hoes! I love the way you look right now. And I'd love it even more if you'd put that shit that I bought you."
"It's too small!"
"Well, I bought the biggest size they had!" Pulling his pants on over his legs, Randy stuffed his feet into a pair of flip-flops that had been lying on the floor.
"Yeah at fucking Victoria's Secret. They don't make clothes my size." Parker refused to cry. She had vowed that she would never again let anyone make her cry about her weight.
"How was I supposed to know that?"
"By looking at me, Randy. By figuring that I might be a little bit insulted that you would buy me something sixteen sizes too small. Do you know what that feels like? Is that the size you want me to be now? If so then, fuck you. I'm not changing for you or anybody else."
"I didn't ask you to! I don't know what size you wear. I thought I was doing something. But apparently I'm the asshole because I don't see you as sixteen sizes bigger than that. I thought it was hot. I thought you'd look hot in it." He watched as she flicked her wrist to dismiss him. Grabbing a shirt, he opened the door. "I'm sorry I even fucking bothered."