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debbiechanclub · 4 years ago

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Best Two Out of Three, Part 23

😁 I’m nervous.

Three more parts after this. @what-does-mine-say and I can’t promise it won’t end in total devastation.

(Note: If you start reading this and are a little confused, you might have missed Part 22. I think a lot of people did. Click the link below to catch up!)

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 23/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x Cash Wheeler and Adam Page x OFC x Matt Jackson

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: Language; angst; overwhelming heartbreak

Catch up on previous parts here.

Tag squad: @freshlysqueezedmox @gabbynorth98 @librathepheonix13 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @exe-sadboi-exe @comeasyoudar

Beep-beep-beep!

Matt’s alarm clock blared through the early Tuesday morning silence, waking Callie just as she was dozing off again. She felt Matt roll away to shut it off, returning them to quiet, and then he rolled back and wrapped his arm around her again, pulling her close. She let out a contented hum as she snuggled back against his chest. He’d already hit the snooze button twice, and she knew they had to get up soon. But she didn’t want to.

“As much as I don’t want to get out of this bed, we should really get up,” Matt said. His voice was husky with sleep, and Callie’s senses tingled as he nuzzled her neck and pressed his lips against her pulse. He slipped his hand underneath her shirt and traced his fingers over her stomach, ghosting over her skin. Callie grinned, her eyes closed.

“Someone’s up,” she teased.

“Fuck.” Matt rolled away and adjusted himself underneath his sweatpants. Callie bit back a laugh. She didn’t mind. Honestly, she liked knowing that she turned him on. It had been a while since she’d felt wanted like that.

She rolled over and rested her head on his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her and buried his fingers in her hair, messaging her scalp. She’d felt wanted last night, too. They’d ordered Chinese and cuddled in front of the TV until she’d started falling asleep, and then he’d taken her hand and led her to his bed, where she’d drifted off wrapped in his arms. She wished they could have another night together. But they had to go get on a plane.

“Do we have to go back to Jacksonville?” she asked as she rubbed his bare chest.

“Yes,” he chuckled and kissed her head.

“But I just got here.”

“I know. But at least we won’t have to turn right back around on Thursday.”

Callie frowned. On the contrary, she didn’t think that was a good thing. Because the longer they spent in Jacksonville, the more time she’d have to spend around Adam; and with whatever was going on between her and Matt… just the thought stressed her out.

“Are you getting your own room?” he asked.

“Yeah. Who else would I room with? You?”

She was being sarcastic. But he smirked. “Yeah. I��ll tell Nick he has to stay with Kenny this week.”

She scoffed. “That would go over well.”

He let out a silent laugh. Callie felt it rumble in his chest. “It’s alright. I’ll just sneak into your room.”

She looked up at him. “Who says you’d get anything?”

Matt didn’t answer. He hooked his fingers underneath her chin, tilted her mouth up toward his, and kissed her. Slow at first—but quickly needy. Wanting. Callie slid her palm up his chest and maneuvered so that she was half on top of him, straddling his thigh, tangling her fingers in his hair. He moved his hand to her backside, and she hummed into his mouth when he gave it a squeeze. She could feel him straining harder through his sweats. It sobered her up and she broke away.

“Sorry,” she sheepishly apologized. “I’m being a tease.”

But Matt shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to.”

Callie bit back a smile. Part of her did want to, but it was too soon. She appreciated that Matt understood that.

“Besides,” he added. “It’s not your fault you could just look at me and turn me on.”

Her cheeks flushed and she rolled her eyes. “Stop.”

“What? It’s true.” He reached up and brushed her hair away from her face, running his fingers over her brow. “You’re gorgeous. I’ve always thought so.”

He took her in, studying her features, and Callie’s heart did a little flutter. She could get lost in those eyes of his if she wasn’t careful.

Beep-beep-beep!

But then the alarm went off again. Matt let out a sigh and silenced it for the final time. “Okay, we really do need to get up now.”

They reluctantly untangled from each other, and Matt threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. “I’m gonna get in the shower. You want to join me or…?”

She smirked up at him. “Keep trying.”

He put his hands on the mattress and leaned toward her. “You know I will,” he grinned, and he gave her a kiss. He pulled away too soon for her liking and shot her a wink as he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving her wanting more.

* * * * * * * * * *

Later that evening, Callie stood in her hotel bathroom primping her blonde waves in the mirror. She, Matt, and Nick had arrived in Jacksonville a couple hours ago, and she and Matt were going out to dinner—just the two of them. It had surprised her when she’d found out that Nick wouldn’t be joining them—and she was relieved Kenny wouldn’t be—but then she’d gotten nervous. Was it meant to be a date? Matt hadn’t said it was, but she’d put a little extra effort into her appearance, anyway. She wanted to look good for Matt, date or not. She knew that now.

He knocked on the door just as she walked out of the bathroom. She hurried to grab her purse and open the door. Matt’s eyebrows arched as she stepped into the hall.

“Wow.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in for kiss. Callie returned it as the door fell closed behind her —but she quickly pulled away. “I thought we agreed no PDA?”

They’d agreed on it before they’d left for the airport: no handholding, no kissing, no anything in public—and especially not at Daily’s Place. Matt had pushed back a little, but he’d conceded for her sake. At least for the time being, Callie preferred that they kept whatever this was between them as just that: between them.

But if the look on Matt’s face was any indication, it would be harder to do that than she thought. “I know, but I couldn’t help myself,” he said. “Plus, no one’s around.”

He leaned in again, and she couldn’t help but give in that time. The danger of being caught only made his kiss that much more tantalizing. She had to fight back a moan when he tugged at her bottom lip as he pulled away.

“Maybe we should order in,” he smirked.

She pushed him away at that. “No! I took all this time to look nice for you. Thanks for returning the favor, by the way,” she quipped with a glance at his t-shirt and jeans.

He pursed his lips. “Please. You know I look good.”

Callie just shook her head, an amused smirk on her lips. He did look good, but she didn’t need to tell him that. His ego was big enough as it was.

They walked side-by-side down the hall, making sure to keep a respectable distance from each other. But Callie kept catching the scent of his cologne, and she didn’t want to keep her distance. He was right—there wasn’t anyone around. So when they stepped onto the elevator, all alone, she reached out and intertwined her fingers with his. Matt smiled and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze—but then the elevator stopped on the floor just below. The doors slid open, and they were suddenly met with Trent, Chuck, Orange, and Alex.

Callie couldn’t pull her hand from Matt’s fast enough. Alex stared at them, her eyes wide and unblinking. Callie’s entire face went red. She prayed she hadn’t seen them holding hands.

“We’ll get—” Alex started to say—but Orange walked onto the elevator, unbothered. Callie rolled her eyes. Of course.

Trent, Chuck, and Alex all filed in after him. Callie stepped back against the wall; she felt Matt place a comforting hand on the small of her back. She gave him a tense smile.

The doors slid closed. Chuck cleared his throat. “Well this is awkward.”

“Well now it is,” Matt shot.

Trent’s brow lowered. “Where are Nick and Kenny? Are you meeting them somewhere? Or is it just you two tonight?”

Callie felt Matt tense next to her. “Why don’t you mind your business?” he returned.

Trent scoffed. “So just you two, then?”

Alex looked up at him. “Stop,” she mouthed. For whatever reason, it angered Callie.

“Why don’t you put a muzzle on your attack dog, Alex?”

“What?” Alex, Trent, and Chuck all said at once. The elevator arrived at the lobby with a ding. “What the hell is your problem?” Alex added.

The elevator doors slid open and Matt ushered Callie out. But she talked back over her shoulder at Alex. “Really? You sicced him on Matt for no good reason last week.”

Alex’s mouth dropped as the rest of them exited the elevator. She looked hurt. Callie didn’t care.

But Trent barked out a laugh. “Look, I don’t know what lies he told you, but Alex didn’t ‘sic’ me on him. I knocked out your boyfriend on my own.”

“You didn’t knock me out.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

Callie and Matt exchanged a glance. The corners of her mouth turned down. She hadn’t meant for that to come out so harsh, but it was true—he wasn’t her boyfriend.

“Awkward,” Orange commented.

“We don’t have time for this,” Matt breathed, agitated. “Sorry you’re still upset I told the truth about dear Alex.”

He started to lead Callie away again; but Alex spoke up. “You basically called me a slut.”

He shrugged. “Yeah. And?”

Trent started for him, but Chuck put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back. “Dude, he’s not worth it.”

Matt scoffed. “Come on.” He reached for Callie—but then Trent said something unexpected.

“You want to settle this? Then give us a match. A mixed tag match.”

It was Callie who scoffed that time. “What?”

Trent shrugged. “What, scared you’ll get DQ’d again?”

Callie bristled. But Matt responded before she could.

“We have way more important things to do than wrestle a mixed tag match against you two clowns.”

“Yeah, like what? Screwing over Hangman some more?”

Anger rose in Callie’s chest. Trent didn’t know the half of what he was spouting. He didn’t know the pain Adam had caused her; he didn’t know how Matt had been there for her when she’d needed it most. Adam had done this to himself, and she told Trent exactly that.

“Hangman screwed himself.”

Alex’s lips parted in silent shock as she stared back at her. But Callie held her chin high. She was done feeling guilty and sorry for herself.

Matt smirked. “What she said,” he added. And as he led Callie away from them and out of the hotel, she looped her arm through his and hugged herself close, not caring who saw.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex knew it was probably a bad idea to try to talk to Callie. A lost cause, even. But after their run-in at the hotel last night, she had to try. She doubted they’d ever be friends again—things had gotten too messy, too personal—but she hoped they could at least come to an understanding. She hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. If nothing else, she hoped Callie could see that.

Colt had told her he’d seen her in catering. Alex spotted her sitting alone at a table in the corner. She crossed the room, pulled out the chair opposite her, and sat down. “We need to talk.”

Callie gave her a hostile look. “There is nothing we need to—”

“I’m sorry, okay?”

That stunned her into silence; she obviously hadn’t expected an apology. But she didn’t push back, so Alex went on.

“I can’t imagine how much this entire situation has hurt you, and I’m sorry. But I need you to know that none of it was intentional. I swear. I was completely blindsided when—”

She cut herself off, instantly filled with regret. She’d put her foot in her mouth. That last thought had come out like stream of consciousness and she didn’t want to finish it. But judging by the dark look on Callie’s face, she’d already figured out exactly how it would go.

“When what?” she pressed.

Alex frowned. Her voice came out quiet; ashamed. “When Adam told me how he felt.”

Callie let out a breath. She looked down at her nearly empty plate. “So he’s told you now.”

The weight of that statement was crushing. The truth of Adam’s feelings wasn’t just speculation anymore—it was fact. Alex fumbled to recover. “Not in so many words but… I had no idea, Callie.”

“Oh please, Alex,” Callie spat. “A blind man could see that Adam’s in love with you.”

Her chair scraped loudly against the floor as she abruptly stood from the table and snatched up her plate. Alex jumped up to follow. “Come on, he’s not in love with me,” she insisted. But she wasn’t sure she believed it herself.

“I’m done with this conversation,” Callie returned. She dumped her plate in the trash can and made a beeline for the door. But Alex wasn’t done with the conversation.

“Well you should know that I rejected him,” she said as they crossed into the hall. Callie scoffed.

“Oh what, afraid there won’t be enough of you to go around if you add Adam on top of Cash, Kenny, and Trent?”

Alex’s brow lowered. “Trent? And fuck you, Callie. I’d expect a dig like that from Matt, but not you.”

“Stop attacking Matt.” She halted and whirled around to face her. “He was there for me when no one else was.”

The anger in her eyes struck Alex frozen. She didn’t know what to say. She knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to say that she would have been there for her if only she’d said something. But of course Callie hadn’t said anything to her. Alex was, in part, the cause of all this, even if she hadn’t known it. She couldn’t have been there for Callie, even if she’d wanted to be.

“I didn’t want any of this to happen,” she said.

Callie’s eyes darkened. There was no belief in her expression, no hope of forgiveness, not even a glimmer of it. Alex had thought right—this was a lost cause.

“Well that didn’t keep it from happening,” she bit, and when she turned and walked away that time, Alex let her go.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex had wanted to go out with Chuck and Trent for their match against Santana and Ortiz, but they’d both told her no; their feud had been too brutal and too personal and they didn’t want to put her in harm’s way. It had annoyed her—she felt like they were treating her with kid’s gloves because of everything with Matt and Callie. But the longer she watched from backstage, the more she started to think they’d made the right call.

Santana and Ortiz had jumped them on the ramp as they’d walked out. Alex had watched through her fingers as Ortiz had choked Trent with a rolled-up t-shirt; she’d cringed when Santana had thrown Chuck from the stage into a structure of steel chairs that he’d built himself. He still hadn’t recovered by the time the match had officially started, and Trent was left to fend for himself. Somehow, he’d managed to hold his own—until he tried to hit Santana with a spear outside the ring. Santana leapfrogged over him and Trent went crashing into the steel barricade. Alex covered her eyes again. She didn’t know how much more of this she could watch.

“Now Chuck Taylor makes the tag!” Excalibur proclaimed.

She looked back at the TV. Chuck started clearing house, and after sending Santana and Ortiz both outside the ring, he launched himself over the ropes and hit a picture-perfect tope con giro. He threw Santana back inside the ring, followed up with Sole Food and the Falcon Arrow and went for the cover—but Ortiz jumped from the turnbuckle and broke up the pin.

“Fuckin’ A,” Alex breathed.

Not wasting any time, Chuck hit Santana with a Sunset Flip powerbomb right into another pin attempt, but Santana kicked out. Trent tagged in after that. He rebounded off the ropes and caught Santana with a bicycle knee strike. Alex wrung her hands in front of her, hopeful that the tides were finally turning in Best Friends’ favor. But when Trent climbed through the ropes onto the ring apron to follow-up with more offense, Ortiz held his legs so that he couldn’t move. Santana charged. He shoulder-checked Trent and sent him flying back-first square onto the steel steps outside the ring.

“Fuckin’ A,” Alex repeated. At this point, she had half a mind to go out there with a steel chair, a kendo stick, something. She had a feeling Santana and Ortiz had another dirty trick up their sleeve, and it would only be a matter of time before they pulled it out.

They threw Trent back into the ring. Santana tagged in Ortiz. They set up for the Street Sweeper, but Chuck pulled Santana down from the turnbuckle and sent him bouncing off the ring apron. Trent reversed Ortiz’s hold and hit a Crunchie. He covered him—but he was too close to the ropes. Santana revived himself to put Ortiz’s arm on the bottom rope just in time, and the ref broke the count.

“Seriously?” Alex ran her hands through her hair, watching in frustration as Santana grabbed Chuck and tossed him over the barricades into the crowd. Then he crouched down next to the ring. He slipped his hand behind the apron and grabbed something.

“No,” Alex said to herself. In the ring, Trent tried to pick up Ortiz for a powerbomb, but he couldn’t lift him for the pain in his back. Ortiz escaped him and pushed him toward the ropes—and then Santana flicked open that retractable baton and cracked Trent right in the spine. The ref didn’t see it.

“Fuuuuck.”

Santana tagged in. Ortiz picked up Trent. They hit the Street Sweeper. Santana hooked Trent’s leg, and that was it.

Alex didn’t want to sit backstage any longer. She hurried to Gorilla and went through the tunnel and down the ramp. She shot Santana and Ortiz a glare as she passed them and ducked through the ropes. They smirked and talked shit, but she ignored them as she knelt next to Trent on the mat.

“Hey, are you okay?”

He didn’t look thrilled to see her. “What’re you doing out here?” he groaned.

She just pursed her lips and helped him sit up. He was obviously in pain. Chuck rolled into the ring and they both helped Trent to his feet.

“What happened?” Chuck asked.

Alex glowered at the retreating backs of Santana and Ortiz. “Santana hit Trent with that baton of his. Bryce didn’t see it.”

“Fuck,” Chuck breathed.

They all exited the ring and went back up the ramp. Trent leaned on Alex’s shoulders and she wrapped her arm around his waist for support as they walked slowly back through the tunnel. Gorilla was full of people when they returned backstage. An eight-man tag match was next, pitting SCU and Private Party against Jurassic Express and the Young Bucks; the winning teams would face each other that Saturday at All Out. Alex noticed Matt and Nick out of the corner of her eye, but she ignored them. Unfortunately, Matt and Nick didn’t give them the same courtesy.

“Sucks losing unfairly, doesn’t it?” Nick smirked.

Alex shot him a venomous glare. “Mind your business, Nick.”

Matt let out a laugh. “Oh, that’s rich.”

“Alright, seriously,” Chuck spoke up. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit and I wasn’t even there when Trent knocked your ass out.”

“He didn’t knock me out,” Matt insisted again.

Alex scoffed. “Yeah he fucking did.”

He turned his glare on her. “Why don’t you go get bent, Alex? It’s what you’re best at.”

Trent pulled away from her and walked threateningly up to Matt. Nick stepped between them, but he completely ignored him. “I thought I warned you about saying anything to her ever again.”

Matt nodded. “Yeah, you did. But you didn’t do shit about it last night, and you won’t do shit about it now.”

“Try me,” Trent challenged.

A cruel, cocky smirk curled Matt’s lips. “Alex is a sl—”

Trent lunged for him, but Nick pushed him back. Chuck ran over and grabbed Nick, spun him around and tossed him away, and with the coast clear, Trent speared Matt into a stack of equipment crates with a violent crash. The four of them starting brawling, throwing fists left and right, but the chaos was short-lived. Jurassic Express pried apart Chuck and Nick while SCU did the same for Trent and Matt. The latter pair fought tooth and nail to get back at each other.

“You want your mixed tag match?” Matt shouted as he strained against Kazarian’s grip. “You got it, next Wednesday. And I’ll make sure I knock you the fuck out.”

“You’re on,” Trent spat. “But trust me: you won’t even get the chance to try before Alex makes your girl tap.”

He shoved Scorpio off him, and he, Chuck, and Alex backed out of Gorilla, the gauntlet officially thrown.

* * * * * * * * * *

By the time Kenny asked FTR if their whole plan had been to “bamboozle” him while he was out there by himself, Adam had decided he’d heard enough. He made his way through the halls toward the ring, his AEW World Tag Team Championship in one hand, his whiskey glass in the other. He appeared on the entrance stage just before a fight could break out.

“Yeah, Adam, come on!” Dax taunted when he saw him. “It’s the great Adam Page, everyone! It’s the big superstar! It’s the cowboy hero! Everyone give him his welcome!”

Adam glowered at Tully as he passed him by. “Stay the fuck out of my way,” he muttered to him. He ducked into the ring. And then he fixed his red, watery eyes on FTR.

“We’ve been waiting to hear from you, Adam!” Dax went on, talking loudly and forcefully into the mike. “Why don’t you go ahead and tell Kenny, why don’t you explain to him who got in your head? Go on! Explain to him who made you do the things you did! Tell him what you told us last week at the bar—tell him who made you turn on your best friends so you wouldn’t have to have a rematch at All Out. Tell him who pushed your girlfriend into the arms of another man.”

Adam bit down on his jaw. Dax fixed him with a dark, unforgiving stare.

“Because it wasn’t us,” he said, pointing between himself and Cash. “In fact, it wasn’t anybody. It was you.”

Adam’s vision went blurry. He had told them that in confidence last week. He knew he’d done this to himself. He knew he’d pushed Callie away. He knew he’d thrown the Young Bucks’ gauntlet match not only to get revenge on Matt, but because he felt—he knew—they were better than him. But he’d told them that in confidence. They were supposed to be his friends.

But now, Dax was unrelenting. He looked at Kenny. “Listen, you’ve known him for four or five years. I’ve known Adam Page his whole career, and his whole career he’s been nothing more than an insecure little boy.”

Adam stood up straight, took a step closer to Dax. But he didn’t stop.

“And that’s the thing—you got in your own head. We did nothing! We didn’t have to talk to you at all—you got in your head. So tell him! Explain to Kenny! Explain to him how you’re so egotistical, how you’re so egocentric all you do is care about yourself! Tell him, Adam, how big of a piece of shit you are!”

Kenny immediately stuck out a hand to hold Adam back. It only made him angrier. He stumbled toward Dax, but Kenny pushed him back harder, flinging his title from his grip and throwing his own to the mat. Adam glared at Kenny, right in his face. Kenny shoved him again.

“They’re trying to get in your head again!” he told him, pointing at his own temple. “They’re trying to get in your head again! Don’t listen to ‘em!”

He glared at him, jaw hard. Cash took the mike from Dax.

“You know what, Adam?” he said. “I think Kenny already knows how big of a piece of shit you are.”

Kenny looked back at him, hesitant. He shook his head, but he didn’t say anything. Adam didn’t know what to make of it. But then he saw Dax and Cash pick up their tag title belts from the mat. Adam rounded on them.

“Come on, put those down,” he asked. Not angry—defeated. “Just give ‘em back.”

Cash and Dax glanced at each other. They both held out the titles; but just before Adam could take them, they dropped them to the canvas.

Adam’s eyes connected with Cash’s as he ducked out of the ring. Even though Dax had been the one who’d berated him, Cash was the one he was most angry with; the one he was most hurt by. He never should have pushed Alex to him. He didn’t deserve her. Not in a million years.

He bent down and picked up the belts. He held out Kenny’s to him as he stood—but Kenny didn’t take it. He looked. Kenny was outside the ring, his hands on his hips. And then he walked away, disappearing into the back.

Adam couldn’t be out there a second longer. He slid both titles onto his left arm and picked his whiskey glass back up as he ducked out of the ring and moved back through one of the tunnels, in a daze. He brought the whiskey to his lips and took a drink. When he saw Callie’s distorted image through the bottom of the glass, he thought he’d imagined her. But when he pulled the glass down in a panic, he saw she was real.

She walked tentatively closer, a frown creasing her pretty face. “Hey. Are you okay?”

Adam’s brow lowered. Her false sympathy was the last thing he needed after what had just happened. “Don’t act like you care, Cal.”

He tried to walk past her, but she put a hand on his bicep. It tugged at his heart.

“I do care. I still care if you’re okay, Adam.”

She turned him to face her, stepping close, still hesitant. But then she took a chance and reached up and hugged him.

“You’re not a piece of shit,” she said.

Adam stiffened. But then he smelled her perfume. It was his favorite perfume of hers. It smelled like fresh cut roses. He relaxed and hugged her back.

Her hand went to the back of his neck, holding him, gently squeezing, and he buried his face in her hair. In that moment, things felt restored between them. Maybe it was the whiskey, but right then, he just wanted her back. And so, when she unwound her arms from around his shoulders and pulled slowly away, he caught her lips in his and kissed her.

It was tender, pleading. And for a second, she kissed him back. But then she abruptly pulled away like he’d burned her.

“Why would you kiss me?” she asked, just above a whisper.

He stared back at her, unsure what to say. “I’m sorry. I just—”

She cut him off. “We aren’t together anymore. You made that choice,” she said, and she turned and left him standing there, half-wondering if he’d imagined the entire thing.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex was enraged. Murderous. She felt blindsided. Duped. Hurt. She needed to speak with Cash. Now.

She found FTR just as they were about to retreat into their locker room with Tully. She picked up her pace, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “Hey! Hey!”

Dax saw her first. “Here we go,” he breathed with a roll of his eyes.

She pointed a firm finger in his face. “Fuck you, asshole.”

Dax’s brow lowered. “Excuse me?”

“Alright, alright,” Cash put a hand on his shoulder as he tried to advance, but Alex came in hot.

“What the fuck was that out there, huh? Was that your plan from the get-go? To make Adam think you were his friend and then just shit all over him once he’d served his purpose?”

“It’s like I said out there, sweetheart,” Dax returned. “Adam did that shit to himself.”

Alex saw red. “You piece of shit snake—"

“Alex!” Cash gripped her arm. “Come on.” He pulled her away from Dax and around a corner. She wrenched free from his grip and pushed him away.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking come near me.”

Cash held his palms in the air. “I know you’re upset—”

“Oh, don’t try to justify what you just did out there,” she bit. “Don’t try to justify the awful fucking things you just said to him.”

His arms fell to his sides. There was no remorse in his eyes. “Alex, you know better than anyone that Adam is his own worst enemy.”

The air seemed to leave Alex’s lungs. He might as well have punched her in the gut. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing; didn’t want to believe it. She’d thought she’d known Cash. She’d thought she’d known who he was. But now, it was like she was looking at a complete stranger.

“You sat across from him at the hotel bar last week and acted like you were his friend,” she evenly returned. “Like you had his fucking back.”

“He—”

“No,” she held up a finger, silencing him. “You tricked him. And you know what? You tricked me, too.”

Her nose burned. Tears stabbed at the back of her eyes. Her next words came out choked. Hurt.

“I can’t believe I was ever falling in love with you.”

Cash’s face fell. She didn’t give him a chance to respond as she turned and marched away, back around the corner, past FTR’s locker room, her vision blurring with unshed tears. She didn’t stop until she reached one of the lounges. She slipped behind the curtains and sunk down into one of the booths, let her head fall back against the cushions, and closed her eyes, pushing the tears out. They streamed down her face, silent. She was broken; defeated. She couldn’t take this anymore, not any of it. It was all too much.

“Alex?”

She wilted at the soft sound of Kenny’s voice from across the room. “Kenny, I just want to be alone.”

She opened her eyes. He walked toward her, his eyes just as soft as his voice had been. “You’re crying. I’m not just gonna leave you alone to cry.”

For whatever reason, hearing him say that only made the tears come faster. He sat down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him. She buried her face in his neck, gripping the fabric of his shirt in her fists, shaking.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered.

“What?” he hugged her tighter. “What are you apologizing for?”

“For leaving you for him. I shouldn’t have ever done that.” She pulled back and looked up at him, eyes shining, mascara smudged. “He wasn’t worth it. I’m sorry.”

Kenny frowned at her. “Baby…” he wiped the tears from her face and hugged her again. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” she shook her head against him. “It’s not okay. What he just did to Adam is not okay.”

Her body shook. He rubbed his hand over her back in slow, comforting circles. Alex hadn’t expected to say that, but she knew in her heart it was true. At the time, she thought she’d been doing the right thing. But Cash had tricked her. He’d tricked them both. She felt so, so stupid.

She pulled back to look at him again. Her voice wavered as she spoke. “You have to fix things with Adam, Kenny,” she implored. “Please. Even if you don’t do it for the sake of the titles just please do it for me. You’re all he has left.”

She searched his eyes, pleading. Time seemed to pause. And then he nodded, and she felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from her chest.

“I will, baby,” he said, wiping more tears from her cheeks. “I will.”

She collapsed back into him, and he hugged her tight. Alex wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but the tears had nearly stopped when Kenny spoke again.

“Hey.” He loosened his embrace and looked down into her eyes. “I’m not staying here in Jacksonville; I’m heading back home until All Out. Come with me. I know you said you need time, but… let’s get some space away from all this. Just you and me.”

Alex’s throat grew thick with emotion as she gazed up at him. She felt his arms around her, relished in their strong comfort. After the chaos and hurt of the last few hours—how awful Matt had been to her, how Cash had pulled the rug out from underneath her feet—after the heartbreak and stress of the last few days and weeks, Kenny felt like a safe haven. She wanted that; needed it. And so she tilted her chin up and kissed him.

Kenny wrapped her up again, drawing her as close as he could. Their mouths moved together, deep and slow, like it had been an eternity since they’d kissed. Alex tasted the salt of her tears on her tongue, smelled his cologne, felt the scratch of his beard against her face. She wanted all of him; she wanted to be anywhere but here with him.

They broke apart, breathless. He pressed his forehead against hers. “Is that a yes?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Later that night, Callie laid with Matt on the bed in her hotel room, her head on his chest, his arm around her as they watched TV. He’d asked her if she wanted some company. She’d told him yes, hoping that his presence would help her forget about the way Adam had kissed her back at the arena.

So far, it hadn’t.

“So are you sure you aren’t mad at me for making the match against Trent and Alex next week?” Matt asked.

Callie gave a short laugh despite herself. “Yes. I’m actually looking forward to it.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “You know she tried to apologize to me today? She claimed that she was blindsided by how Adam felt.”

“Seriously? What’d you say?”

“I told her to fuck off. Well, not in those exact terms… but basically.”

Matt chuckled. “Good. I’m glad you stuck up for yourself.”

They fell back into silence, and Callie’s thoughts turned inward again. It affected the atmosphere in the room. Matt could tell there was something on her mind.

“Hey.” He gently took her chin in his fingers and titled her face so that she looked up at him. “You deserve better than Adam, Callie. He didn’t treat you anywhere near how you should have been treated.”

He gazed down at her with those dark, captivating brown eyes. It wasn’t hard to tell what he was thinking, what was just on the tip of his tongue, aching to be said. But I would.

Callie sat up. She leaned into him, running her fingers over his chest. “Do you remember yesterday morning? In your bed?”

She didn’t look at him as he answered, focusing on her touch brushing over his skin. “How could I forget?”

“Well,” she started. “I want to.”

She flicked her eyes up to meet his. They somehow turned darker. Full of lust.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Callie thought about it. She thought about Adam’s kiss, remembered how it had made her lips tingle as she walked away. She thought about what Alex had said to her, the revelation that Adam had actually told her how he’d felt, remembered how that had hurt her. She couldn’t reconcile the former feeling with the latter. And because of that, she needed to forget his kiss. She needed to forget him.

She nodded. “Yes.”

Matt smirked. “Come here,” he said, and he pulled her toward him and kissed her, and she let him help her forget.

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