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Edge mentally cursed as he cast a quick glance over at Punk. As he'd been returning from the men's room with his cell phone in hand, he'd seen what the prick had done. He'd come over to his table to talk to Ashley.
The Rated R Superstar couldn't care less about that. But when Maryse was eyeing that man the way she did him, it was an entirely different story. And he didn't like it one bit.
He glanced down at the cell phone in his hand. He'd tried calling his girlfriend moments earlier, fully intent on telling the French-Canadian diva the entire truth. She had answered but naturally thought he was a wrong number. And, unfortunately, since he was currently in possession of Punk's voice, he pretty much was exactly that. Hell, it wasn't even his phone, it was Punk's.
"Hey," Ashley said, bringing him out of his bitter thoughts. She cocked her head to study his brooding face. She reached across the table for his hand. "Wow, you're so tense today. Maybe when we get back to your place in Chicago, I'll give you a massage."
The man met her blue eyes and prettily smiling face. It sounded like an appealing offer - after all, she was still a smoking-hot chick - but he just wanted his Maryse. It hurt not to be able to talk to her and hold her like he wanted to. Bitterly, he wondered if this was some sort of stupid revenge on him for what he'd done to Vickie. But that bitch deserved what she got! he thought, his free hand clenching into a fist.
Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind for the time being, he forced a smile he didn't feel.
"That sounds good," he said as he faced the Punk Princess. Yeah, he actually wouldn't mind getting a massage out of her.
The blonde's mood soured a few notches as she noticed, in the corner of her eye, the other two as they started to leave. She turned her head in their direction to exchange glances with the man, her gaze hostile. Once they were out of the hotel's restaurant, she turned to the man at her side, reaching for his hand.
Edge glanced down at her, dumbstruck as the petite diva grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers into his. Only then did he become aware of the small scowl that crossed her face.
"CM, there's something I have to tell you," she started. She hadn't wanted to upset him or anything, but she had a strange feeling in her gut... After all, what if The Rated R Superstar decided to start stalking her or something? Their little encounter, for lack of a better word, moments earlier, had her creeped out.
"What is it?" he questioned, frowning. Lord, it was going to take some getting used to, being called 'CM' and stuff. And frankly, he hated it. 'Edge' was worlds better - not just the name, but in every single imaginable way.
"Well," Ashley said, her facial expression softening somewhat, "just promise me you won't get mad."
"Okay... fine," he said. Come on, out with it already, you poseur! he thought. She was cute and sexy and all that, but he found her annoying.
"Edge approached me when you were in the bathroom," she revealed, her eyes widening. She shook her head. "Can you believe that? He said he wanted to 'talk' to me. And what the hell could he possibly have to say to me? Me?" She rolled her eyes.
Edge stared at her, his gaze hardening at her words. So, she thought it was him, and she didn't want him approaching or talking to her? Who the hell did she think she was? This little blonde hosebeast wasn't even worthy of breathing the same air as him! But then, he had to stop himself from laughing out loud as he reminded himself that the person she was talking about was really Punk. It was pretty delicious thinking of the man's girlfriend telling him off... Aww, he thought, I bet it broke his straightedge little heart!
His expression softening, he shook his head and faked looking concerned.
"Ashley, did that bastard hurt you?"
"No," she replied, shaking her head. "But it was so strange. It was like he wanted to tell me something."
Edge shifted his gaze elsewhere, knowing the feeling. If only he could speak to someone - someone he trusted more than anyone else... His mom? Maybe. And then, suddenly, the visage of another woman he'd loved more than life itself popped unbidden into his head. If only he could somehow talk to her. He knew she would understand, not to mention believe him. This woman knew him probably better than just about anyone else on earth, and if he just had the chance to talk to her, he knew she would believe him. Although the one problem in that could be the fact that his voice was CM Punk's. What about email instead of a phone call? No, that wouldn't work. She would read it and think he'd gone crazy - in a literal sense.
All of that into consideration, Edge made up his mind. At the first chance he got to be alone, he would call Lita.