I would honestly like nothing more than to go to the hotel, take a hot shower, crawl in bed, slip into a three day coma, and tell the whole world to just fuck right off. What I'm going to do, however, is sit right here in this car until Lance is done shooting his promo so maybe this entire day will be improved by just one of his crooked smiles.
Oh, I know exactly what you're thinking: of all the hot men running around this damn Fed, why in the blue hell would I pick Lance Storm to share my life with? The answer is simple really, at least it is to me.
Because he's Lance.
I know, I know; that doesn't really answer the question at all. But you see, it's not a question I can really answer any other way. I never thought about why, I just know that he's got a way about him that just hit me like a freight train.
Actually, *he* hit me like a freight train. That's how I met him. It was right after I came off of shooting The Scorpion King, and he barreled into me one night in the hallway just outside my dressing room. I was about to give him a piece of "The Rock's" mind when I happened to catch his eyes, and just froze. All of a sudden, nothing mattered in the world except the way he was looking at me in total surprise and apology, and I knew then I wanted him. Oh, my brain was telling me that I was insane, but my heart and was telling my brain to fuck off.
I had met him before, through Jericho. It's damn near impossible not to meet every person in Canada when you fuck Jericho, but I never actually noticed him, you know? To me he was just another member of "Team Canada". But when I saw him that night, I saw him differently. There was just something about him I couldn't quite put my finger on, so I asked him out. He said yes.
From then on, with each date we had, I became more and more wrapped up in him. The way his lip would slowly curl when he caught me staring at him. The way his ears would turn red when I'd take extra time removing my fork from my mouth like a perverted idiot.
We didn't sleep together for about three months. I don't know why, really, since I usually fuck a guy on the first date, but something about Lance made me hold back. I think maybe I knew I didn't just want to be fuck buddies. Which, I admit, is unusual for me. Up until I went out with Lance, I never really cared about anyone passed their fuckability value. Shallow, I know, but hey- too many people come and go in this fed to get attached.
Now that I think about it, a lot of things about me changed once I actually took time out to get to know him. I stopped fucking around, even though I wasn't fucking him. I stopped drinking, stopped smoking. Hell, I think I stopped doing everything I had ever done to escape reality, and threw myself totally into whatever it was that was uniquely Lance Storm.
"Are you going to actually turn the key and take it out of park, or should I click my heels together three times and say 'There's no place like the Marriott'?"
That's it, that "something" I can't define. It is the real reason why I've sat out here for damn near an hour lost in thought, and I can't help the smile that creeps across my face when he scoots over next to me, not giving a damn what anyone who sees might say about it.
"Having a happy birthday, lover?" A gleam sparkles in his eye when he asks, and I already know he really doesn't care what my answer is, he's going to make sure I have one I'll never forget in the way that only he can.
You know, I think back to the hell I went through today, how all I thought I wanted was to get the hell to my room and tell the world to fuck itself, and I know now how wrong I was. I also know I'd answer him the same even if he wasn't undoing the zipper of my slacks with his teeth.
"I am now, babe. I am now."
