"Things keep getting weird around me and Jeff. I don't know why."
"Weird? What do you mean?"
"He's been really overprotective lately."
"That could mean anything, Hope."
"I really hate it when you're right."
"That's funny. I love when I'm right."
* * * * *
Ten year old Hope ran from her Massachusetts home, crying her eyes out. Nineteen year old John Cena saw his friend crying and ran to her. She didn't want to talk to him at first. John knew that if he waited she'd open up. She always did.
"Hope, what happened?" John asked.
"I was playing baseball with the guys and I went up to bat," Hope started. "They kept chanting 'girls can't play baseball'."
"Did they say anything else?"
"No. One of the boys kept pushing me. He was around your age."
That was the last straw for John. He took Hope by the hand and headed to the field. Once they were there, Hope pointed out the kid that had been shoving her around. John made his way over to the kid and tapped him on the shoulder. When the kid turned around, John punched him in the face. With that, John took Hope's hand again and they started walking back home.
"Thanks, John," Hope whispered.
"You know I'd do anything for you," John replied, hugging her.
* * * * *
"You know I'd do anything for you," John said, sipping his drink.
Hope smiled, "Then tell me what guy to choose."
"You know that's the one thing I can't do."
"Yeah, yeah."
"You gotta do what your heart tells you too."
"What if it's telling me two different things?"
"Can you elaborate on that?"
Hope didn't reply at first. She took a long sip of her screwdriver, looking away from John. She didn't know how to phrase what she wanted to say. John forced her to look at him, his eyes staring deep into her. Hope wanted to look away but she didn't. More like couldn't. It was like they were communicating telepathically.
"My heart's telling me that I really like Punk," she started. "But, it's also telling me that Jeff's not telling me something."
"If you like Punk, then you shouldn't be worrying about anything."
"But, I might love Jeff."
John didn't know what to say to that. He had no advice and it killed him. He hated the sad look on Hope's face. John never liked seeing her like this. It'd only happened other time. When they were younger and Hope's parents announced their divorce. Hope had been devastated. For almost a month, not even John could cheer her up. Now it was different. The problem wasn't too easy to fix. Well, John would try to fix it. With drinks of course. If that didn't work, John would try anything and everything. He'd fix things for Hope just like he always promised he would.
* * * * *
After an hour, Hope and John were completely drunk. Hope took a sip of the beer she was holding. She and John were on the dance floor, both their bodies moving rhythmically to music. John's hands were around Hope's body, somewhat protectively. He couldn't help but be near her. She gave off this vibe that almost made you gravitate towards her. Without warning, Hope pulled off her shirt, revealing a blue laced bra. She stepped up onto the bar, looking down at John.
"John, do I look pretty?" she asked in a drunken slur.
"Yes. Beautiful," John slurred back.
"Are you lying to me?"
"You're the most beautiful girl in the bar."
He grabbed the drink from Hope's hand, downing it in one shot. Then he pulled the tiny brunette into a kiss. Hope kissed him back, not really aware of what was happening. John led Hope outside, calling for a cab as he kissed her again. They were both too drunk to realize what they were doing. John pushed Hope against the brick wall, his lips lingering along her neck as she let out a drunken giggle.
* * * * *
"She thinks it's Punk," Jeff admitted.
"What? Who?" Matt raised an eyebrow.
"Hope. She thinks Punk's the mystery guy that kissed her."
"Did you tell her it was you?"
"No. I was too pissed off at Punk."
"Why didn't you tell her? You had your chance before."
"I don't think she feels that way about me."
Matt let out a groan. He and Jeff had gone back to the hotel, neither in the partying mood. After an hour of silence, Jeff finally decided to speak up. Except now Matt wished he'd just stop talking. Less talking, more action. Jeff tended to ramble when he was nervous. That was pretty much why he'd yet to say anything to Hope. He knew he'd start rambling. That would get him nowhere. It would probably make her want Punk more. Damn it. Why did her do that? Why did he keep belittling himself and making Punk look so great? Jeff blamed Michaela. After their rough break-up, his confidence was shot. Totally, completely, eternally shot. He felt…like nothing. Like he was nothing. It was a shitty feeling that he hated more than anything. Jeff lowered his head, unable to take his brother's scrutinizing gaze anymore.
"Jeff, I told you," Matt started. "Just shove her into a corner and have your way."
"That's horrible. You're twisted," Jeff replied.
"Did you just realize this now?"
"I'm laughing on the inside. Really, Matt."
"Either you make a move on her, or I will."
"I swear, I'll kill you if you do."
Jeff glared daggers at his older brother. He was seriously ready to punch Matt in the face. Until Matt started laughing. That's when Jeff realized his brother was only joking. He mouthed the words 'I hate you' to his brother. Matt still laughed. Jeff's reaction was pretty damn funny to him. Except when Jeff's expression turned back into his 'sad little puppy dog' face. Did Jeff really think he'd do that?
"You know I wouldn't do that. I'm not Edge," Matt assured him.
"That's what I'm afraid of. Losing her to someone like him," Jeff frowned.
"Okay, we both know she wouldn't sleep with Adam if he was the last guy on Earth."
"Yeah. I guess you're right."
"You guess? Jeffrey Nero Hardy doesn't guess. He knows."
"And Matthew Moore Hardy is pain in the ass."
Jeff grinned to show his brother he was joking. He didn't say anything else after that. He decided to let his thoughts wander. Maybe he'd go back to his earlier fantasy. Or maybe he get enough courage to confess his feelings for Hope. The latter would have to wait until the next day. Let Hope party with John. Let CM Punk think he won. Nice guys finished last and they always got the girl. Good thing Jeff was a nice guy.
* * * * *
John picked Hope up bridal style and carried her up to his suite in the hotel. He put her down, shutting the door. Due to his drunken haze, he didn't lock the door. When he turned again, Hope was already on the bed, motioning for him to come over. He gladly--and drunkenly--obliged. John got on top of Hope, kissing her softly. She smiled that irresistible smile of hers as she dug her nails into his back. They both let out a fierce moan. John kept kissing her, sucking on her skin gently. Within a few minutes, he started getting rougher. Kissing and biting at Hope's olive skin. Somewhere deep down, John new this was wrong. But, he'd had so much to drink. This was all like a fog to him. It was happening but at the same time it wasn't.
Hope pulled John's shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. She pulled him closer, slipping her tongue into his mouth. It felt so good and she wanted more. Hope rolled over, getting top of John. Her signature grin formed on her thin lips. She kissed him again and then let her lips linger down his chest.
"Mm, don't stop," John moaned.
"I don't plan on it," Hope grinned.
She let John take off her skirt as she continued to kiss his chest. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew this was wrong. So, why wasn't she stopping? The alcohol. It'd been too much. Hope was lucky she could stand on her own after all the drinks she had. The brunette let out a string of giggles when John started nuzzling her neck. She couldn't help being so ticklish. Her lips locked with John's again. John had resumed his position on top and was getting down to business.
* * * * *
Beep, beep. Beep, beep. Hope was jolted awake by the alarm clock. Alarm clock? She didn't have one in her room. Was she even in her room? She looked next to her and saw John's naked body. Hope rubbed her temples, trying to piece together the events of the previous night. Then it all came flooding back to her. The bar, the drinks, the kiss. The sex. Hope buried her face in her hands.
"Oh, what have I done?" she asked, aloud.
"John? Are you awake? I need to talk to you."
Hope's eyes widened at the sound of the Southern accent of the youngest Hardy brother. Shit! I'm fucked, she thought. John was out cold and she was still hung over. This wasn't good. No, not at all. This would crush Jeff. Hope quickly got out of bed, pulling her skirt back on. Jeff's knocking grew louder and she heard his voice once more.
"You know what, John? I'm coming in. You better be dressed."
Hope bit her lip in a panic. What was she going to do? Jeff couldn't catch her here. She would not let that happen. Of course they had to stay at the one hotel that didn't have fire escapes on the windows. Hope was running out of ideas. What could she do? Before she could think of something, Jeff started to push open the hotel room's door.