To Pique an Interest
Chapter 5: Decisions
Author's Note: I apologize for the delay on the update for this story...As usual, I most unfortunately do not own anything that belongs to the WWE...
It took me every single bit of my strength to retrieve the cordless phone from a persistent Laurel and answer a call from none other than Adam Copeland. Had everything last night not have happened, I would've been more than willing to scream my lungs out and tell him how much I lurved him. But no, this was far from the reaction expected from a crazy Edge fan, or should I say, once a crazy Edge fan.
I bit my lip as Laurel passed me the cordless phone. As I pressed the receiver to my ear, I could hear the subtle sound of the Providence traffic in the background, my lips dry as I struggled to form the words I wanted to say to Adam. I wanted to yell at him, scream at him, but at the same time, I wanted to burst into tears and cry to him about how sorry I was for being such a slut in his presence, letting him swoop me into his arms and up to his hotel room late at night. Oddly, for someone who'd lost respect for Adam overnight, I was nervous, very, very nervous, to say a word.
"Lilly?" Adam said softly, breaking the dead silence between us.
I felt a lump in my throat. "Hi," I managed to croak.
"I…I just wanted to…"
"What do you want, Adam? I mean…Edge?" I stuttered softly.
"Don't call me Edge, Lilly. I don't want you to refer to me that way," insisted Adam, "call me Adam."
"How did you get my number?" I began to drink up a sense of courage as Laurel watched me, biting her nails anxiously, which surprised me because Laurel only bit her nails in times of extreme nervousness.
"Last night," explained Adam. I choked upon the memories that flooded through my head the previous night, his hands on my hips, his breath against my skin, his lips on mine…
"You dropped your phone on the way out," continued Adam, "I tried running after you but you were long gone before I realized it."
I could hear the hurt in his trembling response and I felt guilty, but then I remembered the events that led up to what almost happened the previous night. I remembered how he had been the one to lure me into his hotel room, and how he used the kiss in the elevator to make me fall for his manipulative tricks of seduction. I felt all the rage and anger in my head the previous night come rushing back into my head, and before I realized it, I was on the very verge of screaming at Adam through the phone.
"Give me my fucking phone back, Adam Copeland!" I exclaimed angrily, "I don't know how the fuck you managed to hack into it in the first place, but I want it back or I'll personally come to the next house show you're in and get it back from you even if I had to get through fucking security!"
"Lilly! Chill!" cried Adam, sounding shocked, "please, calm down! I just want to give your phone back to you, and all I need is your address?"
"Fine," I sputtered, reluctantly giving away my address and apartment number, "but make sure you forget it once you leave."
"Lilly, I want to talk about what happened last night…"
"Save your words and get moving, Copeland," I interrupted, "I just want my phone back, that's all."
"I'll only give your phone back on the condition that you let me apologize for my actions the previous night," said Adam honestly. My eyes flew wide open. The Rated-R Superstar was actually asking to make an apology?
"Who are you and what have you done with yourself, Adam," I gasped, "and no, I'm not joking this time."
"What did he say, Lilly? What did he say?" pestered Laurel.
"Shut up, Laurel, I can't hear him on the damn phone," I snapped at her. When I turned my attention back to the receiver, however, I swore loudly. Adam had hung up without a goodbye or anything.
"Damn!" I swore silently, putting the cordless phone back, "so I guess I'll have to wait for Prince Charming to deliver me my stupid phone and then I can start ridding my room of every single poster and goodie bag of that damned man Adam Copeland." I stomped into my room and hopped onto my bed to try and remove the large Edge poster facing me on my ceiling. I didn't care how ridiculous I looked, jumping on the bed at age 26, but I had to get rid of that damn thing somehow.
"Lilly, don't you think you're going a little overboard with this?" asked Laurel, who had followed me into the room and was staring at me in disbelief as I struggled to reach for the Blu-tac that held the stupid poster up.
"I am doing what is right, Laurel, and that is to rid my room of every single reminisce of the man who tried to get sleazy with me last night," I said stubbornly, managing to peel off one corner.
Laurel shook her head. "I'm sorry, Lil, but I think you look really, really stupid doing that," she pointed out, "I mean, who jumps on their bed when they just turned 26?"
"How about you shut the fuck up and help me get rid of this, Laurel, you're 5'9'' and I'm three inches shorter," I snapped at her. Laurel rolled my eyes and grabbed a chair from my desk, positioning it next to my bed. She was just about to step on it until the doorbell rang.
"Coming!" Laurel called, jolting out of my room. I swore again under my breath and hopped onto the chair. Even on my tiptoes I could barely reach the sticky Blu-Tac that held up the giant Edge poster from the 2007 Survivor Series.
I wasn't out of my mind. I wanted nothing to do with him anymore. I couldn't believe I was the victim of almost becoming a ring rat because of what happened last night. I still felt like the biggest slut in the world, letting myself give into his charms. I suppose that's what I deserved for showing off my goodies to the world.
"Lilly! You…you have a g-g-guest!" I raised an eyebrow in surprise upon noticing the stutter in Laurel's announcement.
"Tell him I'll be there as soon as I get this stupid poster off of my ceiling!" I called back.
"Too bad, babe, I'm already here, and by the way, nice place."
My heart stopped. I couldn't believe it. He was in my apartment. Adam Copeland was standing in my apartment waiting for me.
I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs upon the sight of one of the top Superstars in the WWE standing in my apartment, but at the same time, I wanted to yell at him to get out and never come back. Though a part of me wanted him to stay so badly, the other kept reminding me of how he treated me last night, how he tried to seduce me last night, thinking I was one of those half-brained whores who'd give into his charms.
I dared myself to walk out from my room to find Adam sitting casually on our couch in front of the TV, his green eyes watching me softly, his expression gentle and oddly sincere, far from the cocky yet sexy smirk I expected from him. I bit my bottom lip in guilt, for I could see how much he wanted to be here to not only return my phone to me, but to apologize for last night as well. For eleven years, I hadn't the slightest idea this was what Adam was like in real life, but then again, last night was my very first meeting with him. I knew he was far from the character he portrayed on television, but seeing him sitting in my living room made me more nervous than I'd ever felt before. I noticed Laurel too couldn't keep her eyes off of Adam as she prepared a cup of espresso for him; the fact that a celebrity was in our living room wasn't something that happened every day.
"Come here, Lilly," said Adam softly, petting the empty spot on the couch, "I really want to talk about what happened last night."
"I'd rather not let you put your grimy hands all over me again," I insisted coldly, not caring in the world who I was talking to at that very moment, "I'd rather you toss me my phone and get out of here so you can never see me again."
"I'd rather we talk like adults, Lilly," replied Adam gently, "I don't want any bad blood between us, but I'm not leaving or giving you your phone back until we at least settle things between us."
"Just do it, Lilly, it's not going to kill you," prompted Laurel, who walked out of the kitchen and served Adam his espresso, "and just to make you feel better, I'll leave you two alone so I won't get involved. I swear."
It took me all of my courage to walk across the room and take a seat next to Adam, the subtle scent of his cologne sending me into a trance. Adam hadn't taken his eyes off of mine, from the moment I stepped out of my bedroom till I was sitting right next to him on my couch. No smirk, no sexual innuendo, not a single attempt to touch any part of my body as I sat down next to him. This was the side of Adam Copeland I had never seen before in my life, perhaps no fan had ever seen before.
"Before you get mad at me, Lilly, I want to apologize for my actions last night," said Adam, before I could sputter any form of anger at him, "what I did—taking you up to my hotel room and taking advantage of you when you weren't in a stable condition—was completely classless of me. I honestly wanted to make sure you were okay from the drink; I really didn't know you were sensitive to strong alcohol."
"Then why did you buy me the drink in the first place?" I inquired him suspiciously. Adam glanced up from his hands and our green eyes met. There was a silence before he continued.
"I did what plenty of guys before me have done. I bought you a drink to show that I was interested in you," admitted Adam truthfully, "I saw you at ringside for my match against John Cena at Backlash but I'd never thought I'd run into you again at the very same club the boys and I would visit to celebrate. To show that I was paying attention to you, I bought you the drink and put both you and your friend's bills on mine."
My heart stopped. Adam was interested in me?
"Why me?" I stuttered, "aren't I just some fan to you?"
"Don't say that, Lilly," he murmured, "you're actually the first girl I've bought a drink for in my entire life." I shot eyes wide open in surprise.
"Adam…" I instantly felt terrible. Just minutes ago, I was on the verge of screaming at him, and now I was feeling guilty for being so mean to the poor guy. This wasn't the sexy, cocky Edge I devoted every single day to just to watch him on my TV screen. This was Adam Copeland, a completely different persona from the one I imagined him to be in real life.
"There's no need to feel sorry for yourself, Lilly. It's my fucking fault I lost control of myself and scared you away," assured Adam.
"Do you honestly think I was scared of you?" I exclaimed. Now my blood began to boil, for I believed Adam thought I was afraid of him.
"No! No! Not at all!" corrected Adam, waving his hands in protest, "I meant that my actions last night were too much for you to handle, and I couldn't fucking realize it until you snapped me out of it and left me."
"Adam…I don't know…" my voice faltered, "I don't know what to say…"
"Lilly, I'm so sorry, I'm truly sorry," begged Adam, "I promise I'll give you your phone back if you forgive me."
"So you're using some fucked up sob story to bribe me into forgiving you?" I hissed suspiciously.
"Like I said before, Lilly, I won't leave until we've gone on good terms," said Adam, giving me a small smile.
I was conflicted. I didn't know what to think. While I did feel guilty for making Adam feel upset over the incident, at the same time, I was furious that he was trying to use my phone as an excuse for earning my forgiveness.
"You know what, Lilly?" said Adam, after an extremely long silence, "why don't I let you think about it first." He pulled out my iPhone from his pocket and handed it back to me, standing up from the couch. I was too paralyzed to move; all I could do was watch him walk towards the front door and open it.
"I've decided that I'm not going to put any pressure on you, Lilly, so I'll give you as long as you want to make your decision. If you want to feel sorry for me and forgive me for my actions, or if you decide you don't ever want to see me again, give me a call and let me know," said Adam gently, "your phone didn't have a passcode lock so I simply added my number to your contacts. It's listed as 'Adam Copeland'. And by the way, I think that background picture of you is incredibly beautiful."
No words escaped my dry lips as I watched Adam slowly leave. I collapsed back onto the couch, utterly torn at what to do.