Entertainer.

8: oh, no.

Our backs hit the mattress below us. The both of us completely breathless. Hair matted together in sweat.

I didn't do anything but nestled my head against Bret's arm. He had since regained his composure and stared up at the ceiling.

Loud bangs on the door caused the both of us to groan.

Jim came barreling into the hotel room. He didn't even look at us. He just sat on the bed beside of the one we were on. I made sure to pull the sheets tighter to my body. Bret seemed to pull me closer to him as he groaned aloud.

"Hey Jim–" He started before Jim sprung up from the bed.

"Are you kidding me? You fucked on my bed?!" He bellowed.

"This one isn't–" Bret stopped and looked around for a second before sighing heavily.

"Yeah! Yeah, it is Bret! I remembered! I don't want it now. Just stay on it!" The bigger man shook his head in disgust.

"Oh, calm down Jimmy boy. You act like you've never done that before." I scoffed at him, pushing my blonde hair from my face.

"I haven't! Because I'm courteous around people!"

"Bullshit." Bret mused.

"You know what. I hate you both. You're disgusting!!" Jim snorted at us.

"Fuck you." Bret and I both replied, I smirked up at him and stretched my arms.

"Round three?" Bret asked, watching me with admiration in his eyes.

"No! Not round three!" Jim snapped from the other side of the room.

"He's a buzzkill." I rolled my eyes and pulled the sheet with me as I sat up and started picking up my clothes from beside the bed.

"And he can hear you." Jim sneered at me.

"I don't care." I mused throwing on my panties.

"God I'm going to the bathroom. Don't even think about disturbing me." He shielded his eyes and made his way to the bathroom.

"Don't worry. We weren't thinking about that." Bret rolled his eyes and sat up.

"What are you doing?" He asked, looking at me giving me the "look."

"Getting dressed." I stated as I threw my white tank top on.

"Stop giving me the look." I retorted, pulling my hair over my shoulder while I pulled on my shorts.

"I'm not giving you any look." Bret said almost like he really didn't know. But he did. He always did.

"Yes you are. You're giving me that dreamy look you always give me when we jump into bed together after a long day or when you're about to pull me back into bed with you. Stop giving me that look." I threw the sheet at him with a smile.

"Can't I just look at you?" He completely ignored my rant and grinned.

"If you weren't so damn good looking, maybe." I mused, sitting at the edge of the bed and slipping on my shoes.

Bret crawled towards me, pressing his lips to the nape of my neck. I sighed, leaning into his touch. It was like my body was programmed to say yes to him. He was like my drug.

"Bret. I seriously need to go. I'm not supposed to be seen with you until we get to the arena." I whined.

I was back.

I had seen Vince a week ago. I had agreed to come back to work for him under a few circumstances. The first one being The Hart Foundation would become champions at some point while I was back. The second being I wanted to be more active as a manager. Jim and Bret hated that idea. Davey wasn't exactly fond of it either. Tom told me it was a stupid idea. But I was determined to help my boys. They deserved it.