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Matt swore between clenched teeth, slamming his bag down as he entered the house. Stomping, rather than stepping, over the threshold, he was a bit surprised. The woman standing before him, who was still holding her front door willingly open for him, seemed not the least bit phased by his demeanor.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" he shouted. He tore at his hair, and that was when she arched a brow prettily, giving him a questioning look.
"Is that any way to try to get a girl into bed?"
Hardy shot her a look for her light, humorous remark. Calming down just a notch, he pushed past her and sat down on the couch. Throwing up his hands, he explained.
"I just found out who Ashley's been messing with all this time... right under my nose. I never suspected him!"
"Who?" the woman questioned, and she sauntered into the room, coming to sit beside him. Her hand went to his knee in a half-comforting and half-seductive manner. "Don't tell me it was your brother!"
"No... No, it wasn't Jeff. And it's nobody I'm friends with," the man said. "But it's someone I probably would've least expected."
The woman thought it over for a beat. Then, her brown eyes widened as a thought struck her. Her mouth opened slowly as she turned to squarely face him.
"My God, don't tell me it was-"
"No, it wasn't him, either," Matt said, knowing full well who she was thinking of. He was strangely perfectly able to read her mind. But why would she care if it had been that piece of feces, anyway?
There was a brief moment of silence between the two as their gazes met. Hardy held her attention before posing the question.
"Why do you think it would be him? Better yet, even if it was, why would you care?"
"Because," the woman snapped in response, "he's a lying, cheating bastard. You know that just as well as I do." She gave him a smirk. "And to answer your second question, I don't."
Hardy smirked right back at her.
"Well, good," he remarked with admiration. "I wouldn't want you to start going soft on me." He put an arm around her waist.
The woman took that as a definite sign and turned around, repositioning herself so that she was suddenly on his lap and straddling him.
"Who, me?" she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Nah... never. Not after all the elaborate plans we made."
"Good." Matt looked up into Lisa Ortiz's dark brown eyes as she leaned down to capture his lips.
*
Adam got woken up from a sound sleep by an offending noise.
Disoriented for a moment, he was unable to place the sound or the source of it. However, the initial cobwebs from his sleep were shaken off, and he realized it was his cell phone - yet again.
He felt Amy rousing beside him, and she emitted a small exclamation as she came awake. As he reached for his cell phone, the redhead opened her eyes and looked up questioningly at him.
"What-"
The Canadian by now had the phone pressed to his ear. He held a hand up to silence his sleepy girlfriend.
"Hello?"
There was no answer. But he could just make out the distinctive sound of someone breathing on the other end... that as well as a strange electronic, static noise.
"I know there's someone there," he snapped. "I can hear you breathing. So, come on, out with it - who are you, and how did you get this number?"
Amy stared up at him, not quite getting it. Why was he so insistent on speaking to this asshole, whoever it was?
"Why even bother, baby?" she asked aloud. She shook her head, her hand going to his arm.
Angry, his lips pressed together, Adam decided she was right. With a frustrated huff, he flipped his phone to a close and replaced it back on the nightstand. He was then about to lay back down and embrace Amy but thought better of something.
As the redhead watched, he snatched his cell phone again, flipping it back open. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him what he was going to do, but she didn't have to, as his actions were quick and to the point. He pressed a button on the device, turning it off. Annoyed, he placed it gingerly back on the nightstand.
As the blond man laid back down, his girlfriend sidled up and laid her head on his shoulder. He moved a bit so as to encircle an arm around her.
"Baby, what's going on?"
He shook his head.
"Nothing, Ames... just a few crank calls, that's all."
Amy lay there, her gaze trailing to the intricate light patterns playing on the ceiling. Something was
increasingly bothering her about this situation, but she couldn't quite grasp it.