Chapter 2

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Stupid, Becky thought as she bustled around her living room, obsessively tidying for the third time that morning. So many of her decisions in the past two weeks had been utterly stupid even at the time, and in hindsight they looked even more ridiculous. It had all started when she had stayed at Seth's house before the meet and greet. She hadn't been able to sleep, so she had gone downstairs, expecting just to watch some television and crash on his couch. But then he'd gotten home early and somehow they'd kissed—she was pretty sure he instigated it, but even she had to admit she wasn't far from trying it herself—which led to sex. A lot of sex. When she had left the next morning for the meet and greet, she told herself it was a one-time thing, just like they'd said: simply friends experimenting, playing out a what-if fantasy, and nothing more.

But then she realized she had forgotten her plane tickets at his place, so she had to call him. It might not have been that bad if she could remember where they should be, but Seth scoured the guest suite from top to bottom and couldn't find them, so he drove all the way to the meet and greet to take her back to his place. Becky ended up finding her plane tickets in the bathroom in between a stack of towels, of all places. They'd also ended up fucking again, in her room that time—and then once more in the shower—before Seth drove her to the airport. "It still falls under one-nighter," he had insisted after, looking as conflicted as she had felt. "It's really like a twenty-four hour span, I think."

"That sounds about right." But Becky had still hesitated with her hand on the car door. "But we're still not telling anyone, right?"


And they hadn't. They had made it through a whole taping of Monday Night RAW without making anyone the slightest bit suspicious, and as she was heading to the parking lot, she was just about to let out a sigh of relief when she heard footsteps behind her. "Hey, Becks, wait up." She half-turned to see Seth wheeling his luggage behind him. "You're not doing the Titan Toy Launch circuit this weekend, right?" A new line of action figures was coming out, so WWE wanted a bunch of the talent to do appearances and signings around Los Angeles to promote it.

Becky shook her head. "I have two. Stephanie wanted to increase the profile of the women's division. At least they're both on Sunday. Why?"

Seth rolled his neck from side to side. "Don't worry about it. They have me on Saturday and Sunday, and I just thought if you were going to be out of town, then maybe—"

Becky tried not to smile. While he was far from a farmboy, Seth wasn't fond of big cities. Whenever he came to or through Los Angeles, he often liked using her place as a home base because he knew his way around her neighbourhood. "If you want to stay at my place, that's cool. I've got stuff to do, so I won't be in your way." She felt odd saying it—it was her home, after all—but she wanted to be clear that there were no expectations.

Looking at Seth, though, she briefly wondered if he felt differently. It didn't look like he expected anything, but something like hope had definitely dimmed in his eyes. "Yeah, no worries. Lots to do in L.A., right?" Then he nodded awkwardly. "Cool. Thanks. I'll . . . uh, I'll text you later to iron out the details?"

"Sounds good." And that was yet another stupid decision. Her appearances ended up being cancelled because of security issues, as were Seth's Sunday signings. His Saturday appearances were for early in the morning, so Becky took advantage of his absence and tidied up. It wasn't that she had anything to hide—she wasn't home often enough to have anything incriminating sitting out—but maybe if everything looked neat, she would be less inclined to give in to her desires and mess it all up later.

It was easy to say that Seth started the kiss at his place, but she was sure she could have remembered where her plane tickets were if she'd really thought about it. Some part of her wanted to go back to his place, back to the strange bubble of amnesty they had created for the night—and some of the morning. More sex would be nice too; she would be lying if she said she hadn't been thinking of it every night since. When Seth had returned from his appearances and wound his hair up into his trademark bun, Becky had to force herself not to look at his neck; the large vein there was pulsing, practically begging for a hickey. "Is it cool if I work out for a bit?" he asked, pointing down the hall to her modest home gym. Space was a commodity in Los Angeles, so she didn't have anything like the spread he did, but it was enough for a standard workout.

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