A/N: Hello, WWE Community! This is my first fanfiction in 10 years and my first wrestling fanfic! I love the pairing of Trish Stratus and Jeff Hardy, and this story will mainly focus on them, if there's any other pairings you'd like to see playout feel free to let me know and I'll try my hardest to fit them in somehow. Might update rating to M for later chapters.
Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN WWE, OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS!
.o.
Buzz, buzz, buzz….
Rolling over in his sleep, a tired Jeff Hardy groan at the sound of his phone's alarm going off. His tatted hand blindly searched his bedside table for the offensive object, and after a first few failed attempts, he was finally able to locate the phone without having to get up. He reluctantly lifted his head from the comforts of his pillow, emerald eyes squinting at the bright screen staring back at him. '6:00am' it read. First day of senior year, with that thought in mind Jeff carefully rolled out of his bed, wincing slightly at the sudden movement. "Fuck," Jeff hissed, making his way into his bedroom's adjoined bathroom.
Jeff stepped into the shower, and under the hot water, welcoming how the heat and steam of the shower relaxed his body. His muscles felt sore, and he was pretty sure his ribs were still bruised from his last fight. 'That damn CM Punk,' he closed his eyes, his forehead leaning on the cold tiles. It briefly reminded him of the cold cement from two nights ago, his fight with CM Punk, had not been an easy one. Both men had given it their all, fist for fist, blood for blood—but in the end, it was Jeff Hardy who had claimed victory once again. Adding to his impressive winning streak, 8-0. But still CM had gotten a few skillful hits in, Jeff's aching ribs an annoying reminder of his opponent's strength.
"There better still be hot water left, by the time I get in there!" Matt Hardy warned, banging on the door from his side of the room.
Jeff's eyes snapped open, as he stood under the shower jets, washing off the last remains of soap. He turned the nozzle off, and wrapped a towel around his waist. He walked over to the sink, and stood in front of the foggy mirror. His hand wiping at the mirror until he came into view. His green eyes carefully studied his face, stopping at the small split on his upper lip and confirming the bruising on his pale torso. He shook his head at the reflection staring back at him. He knew he should feel good about the outcome of his fight, proud even; he was the best of the best in the underground fight scene. He had an impressive record, at just seventeen years old, the young man remain undefeated and the underground world was buzzing with excitement at his potential. Plus he was getting paid enough to help take off some of the work load, and stress from his old man and Matt.
But every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was his bloody opponents. Beaten up and bloody, his pale hands warm with their blood. The sound of crunching bones and ripped skin. He wasn't a good man. He was a monster. He felt defeated. He didn't feel like a winner and he certainly wasn't proud.
.linebreak.
"Man, I am so looking forward to our annual back to school bonfire," Matt exclaimed, coming down the stairs and stealing a piece of bacon off of his younger brother's plate. "Dad will be away tonight, and Adam said his older brother could score us some booze. It's going to be the party of the year!"
Jeff couldn't help but laugh at his brother's excitement. He truly loved him, they were all each other had, and his father, of course. "First off, it's not our annual party, it's more like yours. And I thought you and Adam weren't cool? Y'know, something to do with him trying to take advantage of your very drunk girlfriend?"
"Nah, bro, it was all just one big misunderstanding," Matt waved his arm at his brother, dismissing the fact. "Amy was very drunk that night, and Adam was just helping her get home. If anything, I owe him big time," the older man explain, much to Jeff's unwavering suspicion. "It's all water under the bridge, and besides, you know Amy better than I do. She'd never do anything like that."
"Yeah, you're right…," Jeff replied, unconvinced, but he decided to drop the matter for now. Instead making a mental note, to check in with his best friend and brother's girlfriend.
"Let's get going, we don't want to be late on the first day of school. Plus, I promised Cena and Orton, we'd meet up with them before class started."
.linebreak.
"Jeff, bro that last fight was insane," John Cena stated, walking over to the two Hardy brothers.
Randy Orton, not too far behind. "Cena and I, thought you might killed CM Punk out there," Randy laughed.
"Unfortunately, no," Matt joined in, laughing with his friends. "So, fellas, who's down for a smoke?" The curly haired boy wiggled his eyebrows, pulling out a perfectly rolled joint for his back pockets.
All boys looked at each other before shrugging their shoulders, signaling their participation for their morning's ritual.
.linebreak.
"Wait—I'm confused, you and Adam are friends again?" Randy asked, throwing a curious gaze to the older Hardy, who had just finished sharing his excitement for tonight's bonfire.
"That's exactly what I said," Jeff mumbled, taking a long drag from the joint before passing it off to John.
"Yeah.. didn't he fucked your girlfriend?" Cena asked, equally as confused at the revelation of Matt and Adam's reconciled friendship.
"No! And will everyone please stop saying that," Matt snatched the joint out of Cena's hands, taking a few hits and handing it off to Randy. "It was a big misunderstanding… and I trust my girlfriend!" He defensively argued.
"Yeah, but do you trust Adam?" Jeff asked, giving Matt food for thought. Randy and John shared a glance, starting back at their raven head friend. His silence was enough of an answer for the group of friends.
"Enough about Amy and Adam 'not' fucking," Randy teased, laughing at the annoyed look from his friend. "So, Jeff, when's the next match?"
The younger Hardy sighed, taking painfully slow drags from the joint, watching as the ends burned to ashes. His lips releasing the smoke into the mornings air. "I'm not sure," he replied, handing the now small joint over to Matt to finish off. "I should be hearing from Mark some time soon," he stuffed his hands in his pockets, leaning on the hood of his truck. He hadn't put much thought into his next opponent, knowing that when the call came, he'd have no choice but to answer.
His thoughts were quickly interrupted at the sound of his friends whistling, curiously he looked over to their line of vision.
"Lord almighty, thank you for blessing us with the beautiful, beautiful sight of, Trish Stratus on this fine good morning," Cena and Orton fist bumped, as they both eyed the blonde bombshell.
"I heard, she turned down Roman Reigns this summer," Matt stated matter of factly.
"Nothing beats when she turned down, Orton here," John laughed, giving his friend a light smack on the back.
"Oh yeah? I seem to remember you getting shot down last year too, bud," Orton replied.
"Whatever, man," Cena rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his friends. "Everyone knows, Trish doesn't date just anyone."
"Have you ever wondered why? I think, she's secretly dating that Mickie James. That girl is obsessed with Trish," Randy threw out his own conspiracy, nodding his head as he had just cracked the world's biggest code.
"Trish a lesbian? Oh, please, Orton, if that's what you have to tell yourself to mend your bruised ego," Matt joked, laughing with John.
"I'm serious, haven't you ever wondered why, the school's hottest girl has never had a boyfriend?"
"Orton does have a point," Cena agreed, he too dumbfounded with how someone like Trish Stratus could still be single.
Trish Stratus was what every girl in their school wanted to be, and every guy in their school wanted to be with. She was beautiful, no doubt, but there was so little the world actually knew about her.
Jeff Hardy stared across the parking lot at the woman at the center of his friends discussions.
He was lost at the sight of her, he always was. How could he not be? She took his breath away; with her shiny gold hair, every dip and curve of her perfect body, but what got him the most, were her big beautiful brown eyes. He swear he could get lost in the pool of her eyes, drowning in the honey brown hues. She was perfect. But his friends weren't wrong—for as long as they had known, Trish Stratus, she had never dated. Not for a lack of interest, every one of his friends had tried their luck with the blonde beauty. And all his friends had shared the same misfortune of her rejection.
He watched her from afar, watched as she walked towards their school, and over to her group of friends. He was intrigued by her and how little anyone really knew of her.
"What do you think it is Jeff? Secret lesbian, prude or alien?" Orton asked, snapping the blue haired boy out of his trance.
Jeff looked back at his friends, amused at their suggestions. "I think, you're too high." He stood up from his truck, patting the man on his back "See y'all tonight," he tossed over his shoulders, walking away and towards the building of their high school.
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Jeff Hardy walked into his first period homeroom. AP English. He wasn't the top of his class, but when it came to literature, the young man was gifted and so his teachers had placed him in honors. He quickly scan the classroom for any familiar faces, nodding his head in acknowledgment when he saw his friends RVD and AJ Styles. "Jeff, my man! That last fight was epic!" Rob shouted to his shy friend. "Thanks," the other boy mumbled, his eyes lightening up at the sight of red hair in the back of the room. Walking over, the young man took the desk next to his best friend, Amy Dumas.
"Your fan club is getting outta control, Jeffery," came the teasing voice of his friend, a smile on her face. "I missed you this summer. How was it at the Hardy compound?"
Jeff playfully rolled his eyes at the girl's teasing remarks. "Oh, you, know the usual. Getting high with the guys, Matt's stupid parties—which, by the way, your boyfriend is insisting in throwing another bash tonight. He's already calling it the party of the year," Jeff turned in his seat to face his friend, being careful to study the girl as he asked a question that has been on his mind all morning. "Which reminds me, would you happen to have any idea why Jay and Adam Copeland, would offer to help Matt score alcohol for his party?"
"Did they?" Was the only reply, Amy, could muster. "I honestly had no clue until just now," she shrugged, avoiding her friend's curious gaze. "But you know how Matt could get. It's his repeat senior year, he wants to go big or go home," Amy snickered, as of recent, it was like her and her boyfriend had nothing in common. The girl knew she loved Matt, and she really loved Jeff—the younger boy of the two and her had been best friends since their elementary school days. Jumping off monkey bars together, trying weed together for the first time and she never missed any of his fights. She was a true supporter and friend. Jeff Hardy was family to Amy.
"Well, while you guys were busy smoking yourselves into oblivion, I went to cheer camp this summer," Amy informed her friend, switching the topic off of her and Matt Hardy.
Jeff decided to drop the subject, for now. If his brother trusted Amy, then so did he. "You? Cheer camp?" The boy laughed, sure, he knew Amy was a cheerleader, but she was the complete antithesis of your typical friendly and bubbly cheerleader. To be quite honest, he didn't even know why the girl partook in the sport.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up now," Amy playfully rolled a piece of paper and chucked it at her laughing friend. "Trish, roped me into it—she told me about these great scholarship opportunities and how impressive cheer camp can look on my resume for colleges, and you know, I can use all the help I can get."
The blue haired man nodded in understanding, the Hardy's were on the same boat. Any financial help they could get was more than welcomed. Heck, It's the very reason why the boy put his body through so much every fight.
"Trish? As in Trish Stratus?" Right on cue, the pretty blonde walked into the room, getting everyone's attention, Jeff's included. He watched as the girl's eyes scan the classroom, much like he had done early. She bit her bottom lip, having trouble finding any familiar faces, until her brown eyes landed on Amy Dumas. It was like Trish had this magnetic pull to her, everyone's eyes stayed glued to her as she walked over to the seat in front of the red head.
"And here, I thought Jeff, had trouble keeping his fanclub under wraps," Amy teased, playfully pulling on the blonde's girls hair, smiling as the blonde in question turned around to address the girl.
Trish turned, ready to give Amy a piece of her mind, but she never did. Her eyes wondered over to the boy sitting next to Amy. Green and brown clashed, as Jeff held Trish's gaze. The blonde could briefly make out her friend Amy talking somewhere in the distance, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the handsome boy. Her eyes scan over his delicate features, had she ever seen a guy with smooth pink lips like his? And was that blue hair? This guy had blue hair for crying out loud! So, why did she think he was so beautiful? And his green eyes.. they were definitely the windows into his soul, expressive and bright. And did he just smirk at her?
"Earth to Trish!" Trish snapped out of her trace, a warm blush creeping onto her cheeks. She grabbed at the hand waving in front of her face. "Shimmer down, Dumas, you don't want to pull your shoulder out again," came Trish's witty reply. A small chuckle pulled her back over to the boy she had just lost herself in.
"Trish Stratus, I'd like you to meet, my best friend, Jeff Hardy," Amy introduced, her eyes carefully studying the two, a small smile on her face. She had not missed the way the two looked at each other. "Hey, Trish, are you doing anything tonight?"
"No, probably just some homework," came the other girls reply.
"Cool, so I'll pick you up at 5pm tonight, for the Hardy's bonfire," Amy replied.
"Bonfire?" Trish turned her attention back to her friend. Before she could reply, the bell sounded, signaling the start of the day right as their teacher walked in. She spared one more glance at Jeff Hardy, finding him already looking at her.
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The Hardy's bonfire was well under way. The large plot of land was littered with high schoolers, all drinking and smoking, doing all the things their parents had warned them against.
Jeff Hardy sat in the back of his truck, the bed pulled down as he smoked with his best friends,
Shannon Moore and Shane Helms.
"So, I heard through the grapevine, that your next opponent might just be Seth Rollins," came Shane's enthusiastic voice. He was a big fan of the underground fight scene, and took great pride in knowing the who's who's of the fighting world.
"Ooooh, Seth? That's going to be a tough one," Shannon huffed out, passing a beer to his best friend. "We'll just have to up the training, isn't that right, Jeffro," Shannon lightly squeezed the man in question shoulder, taking a swing from his own beer.
Jeff just nodded along, his mind already working overtime. Seth Rollins, huh? He had heard of the other fighter, seen him at a few parties here and there. He had a pretty impressive streak himself, the match would make sense. But Seth was a nice guy, Jeff liked him—he didn't want to think about how he might have to put him out at such a young ago. He was a nice guy, Jeff's mind kept reminding him.
"Babes incoming, act cool—," came Shane's now deep voice. The babes in question stopped in front of the group of guys.
"Hey, Jeff," came Candice's sultry voice, a little wink shot at the boy. She twirled her hair around her fingers, her lips puckering out a bit. Typical Candice, he thought.
The two weren't exactly friends, but they also weren't not friends—if that made sense. So, they had hooked up a few times in the past before. There was nothing more there to it than sex, well, at least where Jeff was concerned.
"Great fight, Jeff!" Came the cheerful voice of one Torrie Wilson.
He smiled shyly at the duo, going back to his beer in hopes of avoiding a conversation with Candice. Candice, however, had other plans as she squeezed herself between Jeff and Shannon. Shannon rolling his eyes at the girls lack of awareness. "I was thinking of having an after party tonight, at my house, you down, Jeffy?" Shane nearly choked on his beer at the suggestion. If there was one thing anyone could say about the girl, it was that she was direct and right to the point.
Jeff was getting ready to decline the girls offer, when he heard an all too familiar voice joining the rowdy crowd. "We come bearing tequila!" Came the loud voice of Adam Copeland. "And lots of it!" His brother, Jay shouted, showing off the box in his hands. Amy trailed behind them, laughing at the brothers. Not too far behind, a timid Trish Stratus appeared—and there it was again, that magnetic pull.
She had on a black, long sleeves, skin tight dress, that stopped right at her tone thighs. A gold chain snaked around her slim waist, her blonde hair was pin straight and a pair of black heeled boots accompanied her outfit for the night. She was a sight for sore eyes.
His eyes followed her, as she sat around the bonfire, watching as Amy took the seat beside her.
Shortly after, Matt Hardy came over to greet the pair.
"She's so hot," Shane was the first to break the silence that seemed to loom over the party, as everyone took in their new arrival.
Magnetic pull.
"Shane, buddy, you gotta close your mouth at some point," Came Shannon's teasing voice.
"So, Jeff, as I was sayi—," Candice was cut off as a voice called over to the boys.
"Hey, guys! Get your butt over here! It's shot o'clock!" Amy turned to the group hurdled around the truck, waving them over, a tequila bottle raised over her head in excitement. The group started to make their way over to the bonfire, where the rest of their close friends sat.
John Cena, Randy Ortron, Shane Helms, Chris Jericho, Stephanie McMahon, Shannon Moore, Torrie Wilson, Candice Michelle, Mickie James, Maria Kanellis, Victoria, Amy Dumas, Trish Stratus, Adam and Jay Copeland, and finally the Hardy brothers; all sat around the crackling fire.
Jeff Hardy took the seat across from Trish Stratus. A clash of green and brown, as he once again found himself lost in all that she was. The light from the fire, illuminated her angelic like features and he felt himself at a loss for words.
He almost, missed Candice Michelle taking the seat next to him, her perfectly manicured hand resting on Jeff's knee. He briefly caught, Trish's raised eyebrow at the gesture. Before he could read too much into it, a drunk Matt Hardy appeared, blocking his line of version. "Drink up, baby bro," Came Matt's slurred words, as he thrust a shot of tequila into Jeff's hand.
.linebreak.
The night went on with laughter and a group of intoxicated friends. Trish was talking to Mickie and Maria, filling them in about their new cheerleading uniforms. She was probably the least impaired of the bunch, she wasn't much of a partier—don't get her wrong, she knew how to have a good time. The few shots with Amy and the rest of the girls evident in her now glossy eyes, and she did take a pull from the joint Shannon had passed her a few minutes ago. But this wasn't really her scene.
She wasn't afford that luxury. Not with her life, anyways, not that any of them would even care. She knew what they all thought of her—just another pretty privileged rich girl, from a world too different than any of theirs. She heard the whispers, 'too pretty, with not much going on up there', or her personal favorite, 'prude'. And maybe, she thought, she even liked it; anything was better than the truth. She didn't want any of their pity, she didn't want them to know her. They wouldn't understand.
A sharp laugh, that could only be described as nails scratching against a chalkboard, brought the blonde girl out of her inner thoughts and back to the party unfolding before her. Candice continued with that obnoxious thing she called a laugh, a red manicured hand over her chest, laughing at something Jeff had shared with Shannon Moore.
She had never really cared much for the girl. Sure, they were on the same cheer team and what would her other teammates think of their captain's distaste for the raven haired girl. Poor leadership skills, Trisha.
It's not that she particularly hated the girl. No, hate was too much of a strong word, a feeling Trish was all too familiar with. This wasn't hatred, she knew hatred, she experienced hatred everyday. In her home, in her family.
Candice Michelle was a bully, that's just who she was. Insecure and mean, the ugliest of them all, if you asked her. Don't get her wrong, Candice was a very beautiful girl, and more importantly, Candice knew she was an attractive girl. She utilize her looks to her own benefits, but the thing about Candice was that she wanted to have everyone's attention, their approval and love. Everything Trish had, but didn't want.
And that made Trish Stratus public enemy #1 to one Candice Michelle. She always tried to make Trish the butt of her jokes, and then there was that one time Trish's cheerleading uniform mysteriously went missing the night of last year's homecoming. Candice Michelle was a bitch, plain and simple.
"Hey, Amy," Trish nudged the red head beside her.
"What's sup, Blondie," Amy turned towards her shorter friend, pouring her another shot of tequila to match her own.
"You never told me, Jeff had a girlfriend," Trish nodded her head towards where Candice sat beside Jeff, the hand on his knee slowly creeping up towards the man's thigh.
"That's because you never asked," Amy teased, throwing her head back as she took the shot of tequila. Trish felt something weird in her tummy at the thought of Candice and Jeff. She wasn't sure why. "Your turn," Amy wiggled her eyebrows, gesturing for Trish to drown the shot. Rolling her eyes, the blonde obligated, squinting her eyes as the strong drink burned down her throat.
"What's the sudden interest in Jeff Hardy?" Amy questioned.
"No, interest," Trish shrugged her shoulders, looking over at the boy in question. "I just wasn't aware, he and Candice were a thing." What was her sudden interest? She didn't care for Candice, she had already made that clear. But the thought of Candice and Jeff together sparked a curiosity in her, that she just couldn't shake off.
"Well, they aren't," came Amy's smug reply. She had been watching all night as her two best friends exchanged stolen glances from one another. She also hadn't missed the look shared between the two earlier in the day, and Amy had already known the young man to have what she thought was a small crush on her blonde friend. "Trish do you like Je—," Amy never got to finish her line of questioning.
"Hey, Trish! Trishaaa!" A very drunk and loud Candice Michelle slurred over the bonfire, gathering the attention of everyone sitting around it. "Why are you single?" Candice challenged, an annoying smile plastered on her face, proud of herself for putting the blonde on the spot.
"Uh…" Trish suddenly fumbled with the weight of her words, feeling every eye on her in that moment. On second thought, she hated that Candice Michelle.
"I have a theory!" Randy Orton spoke up from the group. "I think Trish and Mickie ar—,"
"Shut it, Orton," Jeff snapped, a warning glare set on his friend.
"What don't you try it out sometime Candice? I mean, give that kitty a rest girl."
Did she ever mention how much she loved Amy Dumas? Trish had never met a more loyal and kind friend, Amy was the closest anyone had ever gotten with Trish, a fact that the red head didn't take for granted. Candice mouth dropped open, struggling for words she never found. Getting up and walking away from the group of friends, Torrie Wilson calling after her very upset friend.
"Alright, guys, let's get back to this party! Cena crack up the music!" Matt Hardy order, going over to his troublemaker of a girlfriend. "That was awesome!" He laughed, kissing the girl on top of her head.
"Serves her right, she's always coming after Trish." Amy defended.
"Thanks, Amy. You didn't have to," Trish reached over, grabbing the girls hand in her own, giving her a tight squeeze.
"I know," Amy returned the girls squeeze with one of her own. A genuine smile shared between the girls.
"I'm gonna go fresh up in the bathroom real quick," Trish stood up, smoothing down her dress, excusing herself from the group.
"Hey, Jeff, Shane was telling us about a secret sash you might or might not have? Care to share with the group," Cena walked over to the now unoccupied seat beside Jeff. "Oh, he definitely has a hidden sash," Shannon confirmed.
"Then it's decided, Jeff, go get your hidden sash!" Matt came around, throwing an arm around John Cena's shoulder, cheering his beer with the other boy.
"I'm only getting it because I want to smoke too," Jeff mumbled, getting up and walking into the small house. Shaking his head at his drunken friends echoing laughter.
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Trish had been sitting in the kitchen for a few minutes now, not yet ready to rejoin the group of friends. She sat on a stool, her fingers absent mindlessly drawing shapes over the small kitchen island, a glass of water sat in front of her.
Her head slowly snapped up at the creaking sound from the old wooden door that lead into the kitchen from the front porch.
A mesh of bright green orbs and honey brown hues.
She had a better view of his face, with him standing right there in front of her. Her eyes traced over his boyish features, taking in his perfect nose and sharp jaw. Her eyes snapped back to his own, a blush creeping its way onto her cheeks and she noticed him taking her in, as well.
Trish cleared her throat, bringing the male out of his intense stare. "Sorry, for hiding out in your kitchen," she paused, pushing back a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. "My liver was demanding some water after those vile shots of tequila," her face scrunched up in display at her distaste for what Adam and Jay had managed to collect for the group that night.
Jeff left out a low chuckle at the girl, watching her make her cute faces as she expressed herself. He smiled at her comment, nodding his head in agreement. "I should probably follow your lead," he moved around her, and opened an old draw, pulling out an old beaten tin can. He popped the lid open and spilled its containers out onto the island.
Trish carefully watched as he pulled a stool beside her, going to work at breaking apart the weed he had retrieved from the can moments before. Neatly filling the skin of the rolling paper with skillful prestige.
"Sorry, about Candice earlier."
"You don't have to apologize for your girlfriend," Trish turned to face him, resting her chin on her hand.
"Candice is not my girlfriend," Jeff snapped his eyes back up to hers.
"Does she know that?" Trish arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at the boy.
"I'm not quite sure, I care what she thinks," Jeff shrugged his shoulders, smirking at the girl. "Jealous?" He teased. Smiling at the soft giggle Trish produced. It was like music to his ears.
"Just call me a concern citizen," Trish dramatically, pushed some of her hair behind her shoulders. "The girl was ready to eat you then and there."
It was now Jeff's turn to laugh, leaving Trish memorized, how he threw his head back slightly, his eyes squinting ever so slightly, that deep laugh doing things to her. Get it together, Trish—we don't do this, whatever this is!
They fell into a comfortable silence soon after, as Jeff continued rolling the joint. Trish quietly sipping on her glass of water. He couldn't remember the last time, he was able to sit with someone, no words exchanged and feel so content.
"You should try Vaseline," Trish was the first to break their trust of silence. He shifted his eyes over to the girl, already finding her watching him and lifted a single brow at her statement.
She rolled her eyes in response, her delicate fingers reaching up towards his face, the pads of her fingers, ever so slightly, ghosting over the angry red split over his lips. His breath caught in his throat at the simple gesture. When did she get so close? She smelled sweet, like vanilla and a hint of jasmine. He decided then and there, she was his favorite scent.
"It could help with cuts and swelling during your matches." She went back to retrieve her hand, a small gasp leaving her plump lips, as he gently took a hold of her wrist. "How do you know that?" Jeff asked, fully intrigued with the girl more now than ever. His thumb rubbing soft circles on the warm skin under his hand.
There it was again, that magnetic pull.
He held her gaze, his eyes traveling down to her lips, licking his own to clear some of the dryness he felt in his throat. Using the hand that held her, he tested his luck, slowly pulling Trish closer towards him, their faces a few inches away from one another. "Who are you Trish Stratus?" He whispered ever so quietly, only loud enough for the two to hear. That funny feeling in her tummy—yeah, she was so screwed.
They heard a loud bang, as the kitchen door was roughly pushed back, a drunk Matt Hardy, stumbling in.
"You better not have smoked all the green!" Matt walked into the kitchen, quickly pushing the door open. He stopped in his tracks, a confused look on his drunk face. Were his eyes betraying him? Or had he just interrupted something?
Jeff quickly dropped her hand, as if the soft skin had burned him. He cleared his throat, holding out the rolled joint to his brother. He could feel his face heating up, Matt had impeccable timing. He looked at Trish from the corner of his eyes, her own burning a hole through the glass cup in front of her.
"Hey, Trish, Jay and I are about to head out, if you still wanted that ride?" Adam's head popped into the kitchen. Unbeknownst to him, offering the blonde girl a swift escape from the awkward moment. "Uh, yeah, I'll meet you guys out front," came Trish's swift reply, an appreciative smile tossed at her friend.
She stood up from the stool, glancing between the brothers. "I better get going," she turned towards Jeff, a small smile on her lips. "It was nice chatting with you Jeff. Matt, thanks for having me over."
"Anytime, Trish," the older brother replied.
"I'll see you at school tomorrow," Jeff called after the girl, smiling when she turned back to give him another private smile, before she disappeared out the kitchen.
"What exactly did, I just walk into?" Matt looked from the door, and back to his brother. The tequila shots already playing with his head and making him question, if he really did see anything.
"Nothing," Jeff didn't hesitate to reply, fighting off the smile on his face. Getting up from his seat and patting the older man on his back. "I'm gonna head off to bed."
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A/N: more to come, R pleasseeee :)
but seriously let me know if there is an interest in this story, much more to come! throw in any pairings or characters you'd possibly like to see later on! working on the next chapter already.