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Paul looked up as a shadow suddenly fell over him. he rolled his eyes, not at all in the mood for a lecture.
"So... Bad break at practice earlier, huh?" Shane smirked.
"Yeah, whatever. And I suppose you're gonna gloat over winning the bet too, huh?"
Shane sat beside his friend on the bench and sighed.
"Well, not exactly."
Levesque turned his head fully to eye his best friend. He had a look of defeat about him, which was a far cry from his typical arrogance.
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
The dark-haired man shook his head, averting the quarterback's gaze. It wasn't everyday he had to break news this caliber of embarrassing to anyone, least of all to Paul. And he knew his friend would get a kick out of this now that there was no longer a bet to be won.
"She turned out to be a real wet fish," he mumbled.
"What was that?"
Shane repeated himself, adding, "We didn't do it. I tried, but she freaked out. She even hit me." He shook his head as he relived every embarrassing second of the incident.
Levesque appeared surprised for a beat but then burst into a fitful of booming laughter. He couldn't help himself as he got a gander at the dark-haired young man's face. That was just about the funniest thing he'd ever heard!
"Hey, screw you, Paul."
The quarterback clapped a hand to Shane's shoulder.
"Aw, c'mon, you gotta admit that's funny!"
"It wasn't to me," his friend countered. "Actually, it was pretty humiliating." The smirk suddenly returned to his face as he recalled one very key aspect of the incident with Stacy Keibler. "But hey, at least I was about to seal the deal. You, on the other hand, didn't even get close."
Paul's laughter abruptly ended, and he glared at his friend. What a damn wiseguy... But then again, he'd always known Shane McMahon to be that way.
"I guess that means I won. I got to second base with that chick. "You didn't even get to go up to bat!" This time, it was Shane's turn to heartily laugh it up. And it felt good to do that at Levesque's expense... really good.
"That's bullshit and you know it!" the burly quarterback exclaimed. The customary deep scowl returned to his face. "Neither of us won that bet. It's off."
The dark-haired young man nodded, but he was still chuckling a bit.
"Yeah... Yeah, you're right. Fair enough. So, what do you say we set our sights on two new chicks, then?"
Paul didn't answer, as he merely sat there, glaring at the ground. His hands clenched into fists, and he appeared to be growing more angry by the minute.
Shane tapped him on the arm.
"Hey... Earth to Paul! You there?"
"Sorry... I was just thinking about that no-good little bitch," came the reply. He shook his head. "No... No, I don't want to bother with a new chick. Let's keep up with our original bet."
His friend gave him the strangest look.
"What are you talking about? They both shot us down, remember?" Shane rolled his eyes.
"So what?" Levesque muttered. "I don't give a shit... All I know is that Amy Dumas made a fool out of me, and no one does that." His eyes glittered dangerously as he met his best friend's eyes and continued. "And besides, as far as I'm concerned, it's her fault my relationship with Steph broke apart."
Shane didn't say a word as he instead kept his gaze firmly on the other man's face. He listened, rapt, barely reacting, at least on the outside, to everything he was saying.
"And for that, the bitch has to pay." Paul's frown grew even deeper and more menacing, almost making him look like a monster. "No," he corrected, "she will pay!"
The other guy still said nothing as he absorbed it all, taking in every nuance, every word. He couldn't recall a true in recent or distant memory that he'd seen his friend quite so angry. He'd never let it be known, but inside, it kind of scared him.
"So, here's what we'll do, Shane," Levesque went on. He leaned closer to his friend and said, "We'll keep our deal of this bet. And damn it, I'm going to win it. You in?"
Shane blinked, understanding exactly what meaning lay behind his friend's menacing words. Slowly, a smirk spread across his face.
"Oh, I'm in."