This was originally longer, but I decided that another 7k word chapter was a bit much. It also looked much better in my head. I hope you all enjoyed the New Year holiday. This chapter is brought to you by Halestorm's "I Miss the Misery".

It took me about three seconds after waking to realize that I had a splitting headache. It took me ten seconds to realize that I wasn't in my own bed. Unless I was still dreaming, this was Dave's bedroom. Yet what made me finally realize what a mess I am was that I only noticed that I was naked when I stood up and felt the cool air on my skin. I looked around the room for my clothes, finding them folded neatly on top of a chair. How tidy. Certainly not something I must've done myself.

The previous night, or perhaps I should say morning, was still a haze to me. I remembered my encounter with Jon, that's for certain. I don't think I'd be able to forget such fuckery. However the drive home and whatever happened after I got to Dave's house was a blank. I pulled my clothes on and left the room in search of Dave or food, whichever I found first.

Dave wasn't hard to find. He was sitting in his living room watching TV.

"I'm surprised you're up," he said once he noticed me.

"What time is it anyway?"

"Two, and before you freak out about work, don't worry. I called in for both of us."

"How did you manage that?" I asked. I massaged my temples and wandered into his bathroom to look for pain killers.

"I may have told them that a mutual friend died and the wake was today," he explained, standing in the doorway.

"What?"

"I know I'm a jerk for lying, but I didn't think they'd really understand if I said you broke up with your boyfriend, weren't taking it well, and I had to take care of you."

"Oh god…" I quickly swallowed down two aspirin and thumped my head against the bathroom mirror.

Sighing, I went back to the living room and flopped onto his couch face-first. Dave went to his kitchen for a moment and brought me back some toast. I moved around so that I was sitting normally and took a bite. As I chewed, I decided I might as well bite the bullet and ask the question I'd been dreading.

"So…uh…what exactly happened earlier? I don't really remember anything."

"That doesn't surprise me." He stretched and then pulled his feet up onto the couch. "You woke me up around six in the morning by banging on my door and then when I opened it, you were crying and saying something incoherent. Then you kinda fell into my chest. I can't say that I've had a lot of experience with this sort of thing, but given where you'd gone last night, I was able to figure out part of the story on my own.

"I brought you here to the couch and tried to calm you down long enough to tell me what happened. You explained how you'd been turned down. I'm sorry about that, by the way. That's the worst way that I've ever heard of anyone being rejected. You started crying again by the end of your story and then you tried having sex with me."

"Did we actually…?"

"No. I knew you were vulnerable and although you said you wanted it, I think you were just trying to use it as a distraction or self-medication and I didn't think you would've been happy about it after. We agreed to stop having sex with each other because you were in love and wanted to be monogamous. I don't think you were suddenly not still in love because of what happened. I've never seen someone fall out of love that quickly, even if the person does something horrible. It's like there's an irrational part of you that wants to cling on to it. So even though I'd love to have sex with you again, I'd only do so if you really wanted to."

I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you. I think you know me better than I know myself sometimes. I had been worried that we had played around last night. So what happened after that? I still can't figure out why my memory is fuzzy and I have this headache."

"Well, after I turned you down, you got pissed at me and stormed into the kitchen. I heard a lot of banging and slamming of cabinet doors, so I went to check on you and you'd pulled out a bottle of vodka and was on the floor chugging it."

I groaned and buried my face in my hands. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

"I don't know if I'd say anything was wrong with you. You just haven't figured out a healthy way to deal with heartbreak."

"Heartbreak? It was more like betrayal. Breaking of trust. Fucking asshole."

"You did call him that a lot this morning, too. Anyway, after you polished off the vodka, you took your clothes off and tried to have sex with me again. That's when I headed into my bedroom and you followed me, hopped onto the bed, and immediately passed out. I covered you with a blanket and you've been sleeping since."

I covered my mouth in horror. "I'm so sorry, Dave. No one should've had to deal with that. I am such a wreck. Let me get my stuff and I'll go home."

"It's fine, El. You can go home if you want, but you can always lay low here with me for the day. I can order a pizza and we can just watch movies."

I smiled and it felt good. "I'd love that. Can the movies be super violent?"

Six weeks had passed since that night. I think I was handling it fairly well. You know, other than that first morning. I'd asked if I could switch my schedule around so that I no longer worked on Fridays. The whole Smackdown night at the bar had become such thing that I felt bad to try to end it because of my own personal issues. Still, I didn't need to break all the glasses in the bar just because I heard his voice on the TV behind me.

I'd spent my time off alone searching for things to do in the city to keep my mind occupied. I visited all of the museums and went to the movies at least once a week. My comfort zone is to retreat to my couch and marathon TV shows, but that reminded me of him. A lot of things did, but I managed to avoid them as much as possible.

Despite my defensive plan, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't cried over those six weeks. Like clockwork, every Wednesday night I would cry in bed because it felt so cold and lonely without him. I was angry at myself for letting him get to me like that. I'd vowed to myself after Scott to not let someone in that deep and yet I allowed it to happen. I knew he was a charismatic guy with a silver tongue and yet I ate every word he fed me. I hated myself on Wednesday nights.

The nights I worked with Dave, however, were wonderful. People often say that sex between friends will destroy the friendship, but I don't think that has to be true. I didn't sense any weirdness between us when we were together. He was still a magician at making me feel happy and at ease. We would joke all night and it felt like old times between us. I was feeling so comfortable that I was blindsided for what happened that Tuesday night.

I was bringing a tray of drinks to a small bachelor's party who told me that they were about to head out to a strip club after this final round. The Best Man followed me to the bar so that he could pay for the tab ahead of time. While I was cashing him out and thinking that I could start cleaning up early, I heard what sounded like a large party of men emerge from some cabs outside. I turned to look at Dave with an eyebrow raised. He just shrugged at me. I'm still not sure why I psych myself up for early nights when they never actually happen.

The door flew open and my heart sunk as I realized what was going on. Apparently there had been a Smackdown taping that night. I'd normally have known about that sort of thing because of Jon, but since I'd been keeping out of the wrestling loop for a while, I had no idea. I quickly averted my eyes back to the register as they all filed in.

Dave placed his hand on my shoulder and quietly reassured me. "I'll go greet them, just stay here and try to stay calm."

I focused my attention on the Best Man as he handed me his credit card, even though I could see all of the wrestlers in the background. I saw Roman and Seth grab a table in the back and I accidentally stared at them for a moment once the Best Man had returned to his friends. They saw me and we locked eyes for a moment. I felt an uneasy feeling in my stomach. It looked like they wanted to wave, but were unsure about whether or not it was a good idea. I broke the gaze to start grabbing the beers that I knew most of them were going to order.

I hadn't seen Asshole in the sea of men, so I thought maybe I'd lucked out. Maybe he'd chosen to go to a strip club instead. Or maybe he'd already fooled some other poor girl into being one of his "regulars" and he was working his slimy magic on her right now in his hotel room. I sighed to myself, partly because I was glad to be free from that…and partly because a piece of me was actually feeling jealous.

I was filing up a pint of beer when I heard his voice enter the building.

"So which one of you ladies want to buy my drinks tonight?" His question was followed by some shrieks and giggles.

Thankfully my back was turned away so I didn't have to look at him or know if he had bothered to look at me. Still, I could feel my blood pressure rising and my pulse quickening just from his presence alone. How dare he come into my bar after he treated me that way? After all the time we spent together… He made me so fucking angry…

I felt the beer overflow from the glass and run down my hand onto the floor. I snapped back to reality and closed the tap. Dave quickly came over to help wipe up the spill and check in on me.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"Thank you, Dave, but I need to stay here and deal with this. Don't get me wrong, I thought about escaping into the back as soon as I realized what was happening, but what would that do? It'd just show him that I was scared and was clearly the sucker in the relationship. I'll just become a punchline. I have to face him and show him that I'm stronger than that."

"El, you don't need to prove yourself to anyone, especially that guy. You just have to do what is going to make you happy. So if staying will do that, then so be it. Just try not to give all the alcohol to the floor. It doesn't tip very well."

I laughed and tossed the beer-soaked paper towel into the trash. I took Dave's hand as he offered to help me up off the floor. Dusting off my pants, I took a deep breath and grabbed my notepad from my pocket as I headed out to the tables.

I made sure to take orders from the closest tables first. I wasn't about to walk straight to his table. I wanted him to wait as I made myself smile, laugh, and flirt with the other wrestlers. I had no hard feelings with them and they'd always been quite nice to me in the past. I'd return with their drinks and give them a light touch on the arm when thanking them for stopping by. Classic strategy to try to boost tips. I never looked directly over at his table, but it felt like he was watching me work while he entertained his female entourage.

I was ready by the time it was his table's turn. I had relaxed enough where I wasn't a ticking bomb of rage, although I did still feel on edge. Hopefully he wouldn't do anything stupid and we could have a calm, pleasantly neutral interaction between a bartender and a patron. Of course, knowing him, that was unlikely.

"Hello gentlemen, ladies. What can I get for you this evening?" I made sure to look back and forth between Seth and Roman. I didn't want to accidentally catch his eye before I was ready.

"We'll, uh, just have two bottles of Sam Adams Boston Lager," Seth awkwardly stated, pointing between him and Roman.

"Okay, two bottles for each of you," I noted with a wink. I turned and looked Jon in the eyes. "And what can I get for you, Jon?"

As soon as his name fell out of my mouth, I knew I'd made a mistake. The corners of his lips slowly rose into a smirk.

"I'd like for you to give me a Blowjob and I'd like to give these girls a round of Screaming Orgasms. Could you do that for me…Lana?"

He spoke in that low raspy tone that he'd use during sex or when he was trying to convince me to do something. Despite my better judgment and his gratuitous ordering of dirty named shots that I knew he didn't even like, my body seemed to think it was still an arousing sound. His new gal pals certainly enjoyed it, laughing and nuzzling his arms and shoulders. I smiled and nodded at the table, noticing Roman mouthing We're sorry! to me as I turned around. I knew that they felt bad, but being sorry for their friend's actions wasn't going to magically make everything okay.

I grabbed the four bottles of beer and placed them on a tray once I returned to the bar. While mixing the shots, I kept glancing over at their table. Every time I did, he looked over and caught my gaze. That didn't help my heart beat at a normal pace. Finally, the order was complete and I headed back to the table, placing each drink in front of the proper person.

"Thank you, Lana," Jon said. The emphasis on my name made my skin crawl. We stared hard at each other for a few seconds before I replied.

"You're very welcome, sir." It took all my will power to not speak through gritted teeth.

I moved over to the next table a few feet away. One deep breath and I was able to put my pleasant server smile back on. I was about to ask the boys what I could get for them when I heard one of Jon's girls ask him a question behind me.

"Hey Dean, why'd you know her name? Who was she?"

"Oh, no one important. Just a bartender I fucked once."

That was it. My whole body tensed up. He'd gotten to me. He'd won. I had to get out of there. I dropped my pen and notepad and excused myself from the table I'd been standing at. I headed straight for the bathroom. Dave intercepted me halfway across the floor.

"Are you okay, El? What happened?"

"I'll be fine, I just need to take a few minutes to calm down. Really, I am."

"Okay..." He stepped back and let me pass him.

I turned the knob and stepped inside, closing the door behind me maybe a little harder than I should have. I didn't bother to lock it since I wasn't actually going to the bathroom. It was a one person bathroom and I didn't want to stop anyone else who may have needed it.

I leaned against the wall and tried to take slow, relaxing breaths. The fucking nerve of him. I wouldn't have expected him to not go out drinking with his friends after the show, but what did he have to gain from antagonizing me? He hadn't tried to call or text me in the six weeks since I told him to fuck off. Did he wait till now so he could see the look of anger on my face? I don't know what game he was trying to play, but I had assumed that he would've moved on already since he could get women with a twitch of his eyebrow. He was punishing me for the way I left that night. He was certain of it. What a fucking child. I believe that he deserved the way I treated him that night and I didn't deserve this humiliation tonight.

I heard the bathroom door open and close behind me, but I didn't immediately move.

"I'm sorry, please give me a second and I'll get your of your way."

I received no verbal response from the stranger, but heard the sound of the lock click into place. My heart began to pound again and I spun around in confusion. My eyes met a familiar smirk.

"What the fuck are you doing in here? Get out!" I yelled.

He stared back at me, still smirking. He cocked his head to the side, folded his arms, and didn't say a word. Not only did he intrude on my privacy, but he didn't have any reason for it other than to piss me off. Asshole.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, you…you…"

My mind was suddenly blank on insults. He found this quite amusing. His quiet laugh made my whole body shake with rage. I felt that tightness in my chest that I get. I felt so ashamed that he was able to make me feel this way.

He stepped forward and stroked my cheek with his hand. "Did I ever tell you how cute you are when you're angry?"

My lips curled into a scowl. I smacked his hand away from my face and pushed him as hard as I could in the chest. I saw that his smirk had changed into a grimace of his own.

Both of our chests were heaving and despite my better judgment, I found myself staring at his. I'm going to call it a temporary break in sanity, but I suddenly wanted him. I assumed he felt the same way because I caught him staring at my chest, too. Our eyes met again for a few seconds before we both grabbed at each other.

I gripped his shoulders, pulling him down enough so that I could reach his mouth easily. He grabbed my hips as I kissed him, and slid his fingers under the hem of my shirt, raking his nails across my skin.

I moved backward until I felt the sink. He must've known what I was thinking because he lifted me up onto it and we both started to unbutton our pants, neither of us saying a word. I had to wriggle around on the sink top to help get my pants down around my ankles. Of course, all Asshole had to do was unbutton his fly and pull his dick out.

I kicked my pants off completely and reached forward to grab his hair, pulling his head toward me and kissing him again, making sure to bite his lip hard in the hopes that he'd bleed. He dug his fingers into my thighs and roughly scooted my ass to the edge of the sink. I heard him rustling through his jean pocket and felt him roll on a condom. He never broke away from the kiss while doing it, like breaking away would show a sign of weakness.

We both pulled away and I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand as he rubbed a finger between my lips. I was surprisingly wet. Now I see what people mean when they talk about how good angry sex is. He placed the tip of his cock against my pussy and roughly pushed in.

I felt like this was a bizarre competition between us. There wasn't any real passion involved. Sex was the game and the winner… I suppose the winner would be whoever didn't orgasm first, at least in my opinion. I was determined to be victorious.

His thrusts lacked finesse. They were hard and fast, like he was hoping that he'd get lucky on where he was hitting and manage to get me off quickly. I don't know if it was because of the anger high I was feeling or if it was because I hadn't been able to mentally handle masturbating in the last six weeks, but it was unfortunately working. I focused everything on staying silent and pissed.

I glared into his eyes and could see that he was also finding it difficult to not make any sort of pleasurable noise. I tightened my pelvic floor muscles as much as I could and dug my fingernails into his shoulders.

It must've hurt him because he only lasted a few seconds before he slammed his fist against the mirror next to my head, making my body flinch. He meant it to scare me. It was just an empty threat. I narrowed my eyes and refused to break out stare down.

My heart was pounding in my chest. I was starting to feel lightheaded and the physical pleasure was building that familiar sensation inside of me. I knew my eyes looked panicked because he started to smile. He knew he was winning. The least I could do was try to make sure he didn't get to see it. I grabbed his face with one hand, his throat with the other, and squeezed.

My orgasm hit me much harder than I had expected. Again, I'll attribute it to not having had one in over a month and not to the person currently inside of me. I had managed to not make a peep up until that moment, but I couldn't help myself now. I needed to get this out of me. I needed to release this anger, this tension, this primal something that was inside me. It was loud and deep and I was oddly happy that it sounded like a warrior's battle cry.

What made me happier was that he came immediately after I did. I'd lost this unspoken battle between us, but I would've been angrier if he'd just pulled out and gone back into the bar like this was nothing to him. He pushed me back against the mirror as he pulled out and turned around to look for a trash can. I slipped off onto the floor and grabbed my pants.

As I pulled them on, watching him out of the corner of my eye, I started thinking about what would happen when I left this room. That's when the pleasant endorphins from my rage-gasm seemed to entirely dissipate from my system. My smile dropped and was replaced with a look of dread. Even if no one had noticed that both of us were in here at the same time, they sure as hell heard me orgasm and when two people emerge from a single bathroom after that… I really didn't want to possibly become an inside joke to the entire roster. Hey, remember that time Ambrose walked in on his ex in the bathroom and convinced her to have sex with him again? Hilarious!

Maybe I could just stay in here for the rest of the night and no one would notice…?

I stood in place once my pants were fastened. My eyes were fixed onto the floor. I felt so stupid. I heard him shuffle to the door and undo the lock. I turned my head slightly and looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He was staring back at me with his hand on the doorknob. He made an exaggerated wink and tongue click at me and then left, closing the door behind him.

I sighed and approached the door. I held the doorknob and took a slow, deep breath before opening the door and stepping out into the bar.

Everyone was staring at me. Except for Jon. He had just arrived back at his seat and he was leaning back with his hands behind his head, a smug look on his face. I swallowed hard and quickly walked toward the back room.

Once I made it through the door, I grabbed my purse and began to walk toward the rear exit until I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"What the hell was that?" I turned around to see Dave. His eyes were a mix concern and disappointment. "Did he hurt you? I'm sorry I didn't even see him go in or I would've broken down the door

"No, Dave. He didn't hurt me. And nothing in there happened that I didn't want."

His eyes lost their concern and were now all disappointment.

"Are you fucking kidding me? After what he did? After he broke your agreement? You still want him?"

"No. I hate him. But I think I still love him. It's only been six weeks, Dave. I thought I would be okay. I thought I could handle it. He's like heroin and I know he's bad for me… yet I obviously still crave him. My mind is a wreck right now, so this addict is going to go detox upstairs now."

As I turned to walk away, I could feel the look of pity that I knew he was giving me.