Chapter Six – The Line That Changes Everything
Maeve had never been this nervous for a segment in her life.
She'd patched up broken noses, dislocated shoulders, deep gashes that needed urgent stitches—but this? This was somehow worse.
Because in less than an hour, she was supposed to stand in the middle of WWE's med bay and pretend that Cody Rhodes was just another patient.
Just another superstar she hadn't been secretly crushing on for months.
And then—
Then he was going to look her in the eye and say:
"Tell me you didn't feel anything when I kissed you."
Her stomach turned.
"Stop panicking," Sarah said, stretching out across Maeve's desk like she belonged there. "It's just a line."
Maeve shot her a flat look. "It's not just a line."
Sarah smirked. "No. It's the hottest moment in WWE television since Lita and Edge got spicy in '06."
Maeve groaned. "You're not helping."
"Oh, babe, I'm not trying to."
Maeve was this close to throwing her water bottle at Sarah's head when a knock at the door made her freeze.
She knew who it was before she even looked.
Cody.
Wearing his ring gear, hoodie unzipped, wrist tape still loose.
He looked… annoyingly good.
Maeve's pulse stuttered.
Sarah—traitor that she was—grinned. "I'll leave you two alone."
Maeve shot her a murderous glare as she walked out, suspiciously smug.
The door clicked shut.
And then it was just her and Cody.
Alone.
Cody exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. "Tell me I'm not the only one thinking this is a bad idea."
Maeve swallowed. "You're not."
Cody nodded. "Good. Because this—" He waved a hand. "—feels like playing with fire."
Maeve couldn't argue.
Because it did.
But the problem was… she wasn't sure she wanted to put it out.
Cody sighed. "You gonna be okay with this?"
Maeve forced a tiny smile. "I'll survive."
Cody studied her, eyes sharp—like he didn't quite believe her.
Then, before she could say anything else, someone knocked on the door again.
"Five minutes!"
Showtime.
Cody rolled his shoulders. "Guess we're doing this."
Maeve nodded, ignoring the thudding in her chest. "Yeah. Guess we are."
The lights in the med bay were harsh, the cameras zoomed in close, and Maeve felt like she was going to throw up on live TV.
Cody sat on the edge of the exam table, playing his part perfectly—a little tense, a little restless, like a man who had something to say.
Maeve swallowed. "You're fine. No concussion. Just take it easy."
She turned to leave.
But Cody caught her wrist.
The air crackled.
Maeve's breath hitched.
And then—the line.
"Tell me you didn't feel anything when I kissed you."
Maeve froze.
The world tilted.
And for a moment, she forgot every single camera was rolling.
Because Cody wasn't just acting.
He was looking at her like he actually wanted an answer.
Maeve's pulse roared in her ears.
Her brain screamed at her to stick to the script. To look away and leave like she was supposed to.
But she didn't.
Instead—before she could stop herself—she kissed him.
It wasn't part of the plan.
It wasn't soft or hesitant.
It was pure reaction—a second of reckless, breathless emotion before reality slammed back into her like a steel chair shot to the skull.
She pulled back fast.
Her stomach dropped.
Oh. Oh, no.
Cody looked shocked. His lips still parted, eyes wide, breath uneven.
The room was dead silent.
The cameras had caught everything.
Maeve's heart pounded.
Then, panic.
She bolted.
Didn't wait for Cody to react. Didn't wait for someone to yell cut.
She just ran.
Because she'd just ruined everything.
And WWE had it all on tape.