Memphis sighed heavily as she entered the warm hotel room. Loveland, Colorado had more than lived up to its reputation for being cold in the winter time. As she kicked off her boots, she turned up the already comfortable thermostat a few more notches. Rubbing her hands together, she peered outside the curtains. There was a pretty view from the third floor, one that seemed to perfectly showcase the falling white snowflakes that had now completely blanketed the ground. The street lamp added to the glorious light of the full moon. She couldn't help but smile faintly. Growing up in Florida, she had never seen real snow as a little girl. Now traveling all over the country, she was exposed to all different types of climates and weather. The small child in her felt like running out in the middle of the parking lot and twirling around in her very own winter wonderland.

She snapped out of the dream like stance when the hotel door opened and shut. It was Phil Brooks. For some reason, he was singing the song That's Amore at the top of his lungs. He didn't have a bad voice, in fact, he was a rather good singer when he was being serious. The room was spacious and he followed suit by removing his shoes, then his shirt and hoodie. He mulled about the room in an unusually chipper mood. Another week had passed and another Monday Night RAW had come to an end. The show had gone off without a hitch. Though professional wrestling was his true love, while his injury entered the last stages of healing, he had to admit he enjoyed his commentating duties at ringside with Michael Cole and Jerry the King Lawler. For two hours he was a witty and painfully honest unscripted nonstop barrel of laughs combined with unparalleled knowledge of the business.

Life in Chicago had been happy and would have been normal had Memphis not been constantly haunted by what she had done in Canada. She had settled nicely into her new home and her new role as Phil's live in girlfriend. Though she had started to heal emotionally, the memory was always there. But more than regretting that night, she was fighting to suppress her growing feelings and attraction for one Randal Orton. She thought about him a lot and it was worse the few times a week she was forced to see him on the road. Avoiding him had been nothing short of impossible. His presence loomed like a dark cloud. His cockiness, his sexiness, his swagger, his smirk…everything she had always loathed about him were now the very characteristics that had dangerously begun to blur the thin line between love and hate.

She couldn't love Randy. It could never be. It would never work. Randy was no good. He was selfish. He was arrogant. He was thoughtless. It was the worst idea ever. It was a simple fantasy she had convinced herself. He was the ultimate bad boy, as good looking as they came. She had flirted closely with disaster and clumsily teetered off the edge falling right into bed with the Apex Predator. The sex had been out of this world, just as one would imagine and that only added to the myth. Imagining being with him was a perfect picture. Life with him would be fun and spontaneous, dangerous and thrilling, a sexy and erotic dwelling of pure unpredictability. Whereas Phil was safe and normal and comfortable. And boring.

Memphis bit down on her lip hard as if to scold herself. She immediately felt a whole new pang of guilt just for thinking such thoughts. Most women would kill to have a guy in their lives like Phil Brooks. He was handsome and funny and smart and sweet. Above all, he loved her and was devoted and loyal. There was nothing in the world he wouldn't do to make her happy. And she, they, had been happy until Randy had come along and messed things up. What was wrong with safe, normal and comfortable? And wasn't boring better than a bunch of nonstop drama all the time? Besides, she knew Phil and she knew him well. She loved him. If she could just get Randy out of her mind, if she could just forget about him and what they had done, everything would go back to being okay again.

"When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amore…"

Phil was the one who had protected her from the beginning. By far, he was the most loyal human being she had ever met and how had she managed to repay that loyalty? He had never hurt her feelings or yelled at her or had been too busy to spend time with her. He was a good man and an even better friend. He was a sympathetic ear to all her problems, an understanding life partner who knew what the rigors of living out of a suitcase were all about. Despite the cloud of regret and guilt that followed Memphis, she had managed to put her best face forward and their relationship had continued, he blissfully unaware of her betrayal. For 32 days, their lives had continued, most nights with him holding her close in his strong arms, not even questioning why she was steadfastly refusing to make love to him. He loved her, it was all about her, whatever she wanted, whatever made her comfortable. Memphis felt like a piece of shit. Phil deserved better.

"What's with the song?" she shoved her hands in her pockets.

He grinned and shrugged.

"Must be all that lasagna," he rubbed his stomach.

"Dinner was delicious."

After the show, they had shared a fine traditional Italian meal.

"You know, the night is still young. Say, you want to go outside and make snow angels?"

Running her fingers through her hair, she sighed, and smiled at his comment. He was known for saying the damnest things.

"No thanks, babe. It's way too cold and snow angels are totally random, by the way. Listen, do you have the flight information for tomorrow?"

"Loser," he teased. "And the flight leaves at 11. Got both our e tickets printed and in my suitcase."

He went about his nightly routine. After brushing his teeth and washing his face, soon he was in boxers. He grabbed a comic book and fell into bed, making sure the remote control was close by. Sure enough, the USA network was showing a Law and Order SVU marathon. He loved that show and he and Memphis had spent many a night cuddling, watching episode after episode for hours. He had a weird sleep schedule, weirder than many of the other Superstars. He was a permanent insomniac, hence the bags that lived underneath his eyes. He rarely slept, most of it came from stolen travel moments during the daylight hours or on days off in Chicago with the shades drawn tight. Memphis had always found comfort falling asleep next to him. Even though he'd fitfully toss and turn, read a bit and flip through channels, he was there when she closed her eyes and she knew no matter what, he would always be there when she opened them.

"Punk," she muttered softly as she stood over him.

He raised one eyebrow.

"What are you doing, Dollface? That's quite the creepy look there. That's a Lifetime movie, the crazy chick is about to stab the hapless dude reading the comic book in bed look. What gives?"

She couldn't lose him. She couldn't bear to lose the most stable relationship she had ever had in her life. She had messed up but he didn't know that, therefore there was still time to fix it.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too, kiddo," he went back to the illustrated pages.

Memphis pulled her fitted black hoodie over her head. Her red tank top soon followed. She peeled out of the skinny jeans and knee length Pippy Longstockings winter socks. Taking off her black hat and placing it on the table, she walked over to the bed. She reached over and took the book from his unsuspecting hands, tossing it aside to the floor. She did the same to the remote. A look of confusion crossed his face but she straddled his body before he had time to react. Leaning over she cupped his bearded face and kissed him. It was a kiss filled with both purpose and passion. She rammed her tongue deep inside his mouth, catching him off guard at first. She had never kissed him or anyone else like that. It was as if she was trying to devour him whole. Her manicured fingernails raked across the new tattoo in progress on his chest, causing him to wince a little. But she didn't stop. Instead she ground her body into his, pushing him back so that they both fell against the plush stack of pillows.

"I want you, Punk," she commanded, breathless. "Touch me."

It was more of an order than a request. A month's worth of sexual frustration and masturbating alone had him eagerly reciprocating by letting his hands alternate roaming over the lacy cups of her bra and the silky material that barely covered her ass. Memphis bit into his lip hard as her right hand found a firm grip on the warm and aching manhood that was throbbing to be released from its cotton confines. Looking down at it, she stroked it roughly before uncharacteristically lowering her mouth and spitting onto the head. Phil chuckled in surprise.

"Whoa, Dollface," he tried to catch his bearings. "What the hell is this, the Jenna Jameson hour?"

Memphis ignored him as she continued her oral attack. It was a striking contrast between the pleasure of a blowjob and the pain of teeth scratching his most tender flesh. She pushed him flat on his back, then quickly removed her matching bra and panty set. Tying the underwear around his throat, he moaned out loud, inhaling her womanly scent from the moist crotch just inches from his nose. Pinning his much larger and stronger arms down, she climbed on top again and positioned him so that he was deep inside her. She rode him hard and fast, their heavy breathing met only with the sound of the bed creaking beneath their writhing weights. With one last thrust, he released with a guttural groan, his hot seed splashing deep inside her walls. Memphis clinched her muscles around him, draining every last drop. When it was over, she collapsed quietly across his torso.

"Punk…"

He ran his hands through his hair, wiping the sweat that dripped from his brow.

"That was…different."

She rolled off of him. Now what? It had been a long time since they had been intimate, since she could bring herself to touch and be touched by him. This was supposed to fix everything. This was supposed to make it all better. This was supposed to bring them back to normal. This was supposed to erase what she had done with Randy. But nothing had changed in those minutes. Nothing was different. Everything was very much still the same. And all that was left was a painfully empty feeling.

"Oh my God," she whispered out loud to herself.

Phil grinned.

"Come here, you little hellcat," he joked, pulling her close again. "What got into you? No complaints here but that um…that was pretty wild. Daddy like."

She had no answers. She had no tears left. It was what it was and the realization was more powerful than ever. Her heart and soul were damaged, victims of the venom from a poisonous Viper. No sexual first aid kit or pretend it away remedy was going to work. Her relationship with Phil had been forever changed by what had happened with Randy in Canada and it was only a matter of time before Phil found out. And if, when that happened, there would be no more fixing it.