Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

The Guidelines of Sex & Friendship	By : delicatektheory Category: WWF/WWE > Het - Male/Female Views: 1885 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the WWE current or former talent. I do not own any of the lyrics featured later on. I am not making money from writing this. All I own is Lil, Jas, and Jenn.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Despite not being at my house, I was still haunted by my bizarre pregnancy
dreams, but they didn’t keep me up at night—the fighting did. For nearly a week now, Shannon and Julie had been at each other’s throats, and it was over me, of course. I was laying in Shannon’s bed, looking up at the ceiling as I listened to the current argument taking place downstairs.
“She shouldn’t be here, Shannon!” Julie was screaming in that freakishly male voice of hers.
“Will you keep your god damn voice down?” he hissed.
“I don’t give a damn if she wakes up. In fact,”—her voice rose even higher and it was sounded like she may have been shouting from the bottom of the stairs—“I hope she can hear every damn word I have to say!”
If I were an intelligent person, I would have bowed out gracefully the first night Julie gave me the stink eye over that burnt concoction she called a dinner. I’m more cowardly, I guess. Because here I was, letting my Shannon take the fall for me.
“I swear, if you scream out one more damn time,” he warned. I could tell he was gritting his teeth, trying not to erupt. “I’ll throw you out, so help me God.”
“Oh, I forget she’s a little angel to you,” Julie snapped, laughing darkly. “She’s got you blind to the inappropriateness of this situation.”
“What situation? And how is it inappropriate?” he demanded. “She’s sick, Jules, and disabled. It’s not like she can just take care of herself. Matt’s not here, so it’s my responsibility. Quit bitching about it and just accept it.”
“Take her to a damn hospital, then. They can look after her.”
“Julie…”
“What? You spend every waking moment with her. I think I deserve some time with you, too.”
“So, you’re jealous, is that it?”
“How could I not be? You have Lil on a fucking pedestal, but I’m your girlfriend. It shouldn’t be like this way, don’t you see that?”
“Are you trying to make me choose?”
“I’m saying that you need to get your priorities in check.”
“You’re making me chose,” he grumbled.
“No, because I know who you’ll choose,” she spat, “but you need to start treating my opinions like they matter.”
“Opinions,” he scoffed. “More like judgments. You are constantly passing judgment on her. You don’t like her for this, and you think she’s that.”
“Well, excuse me for not liking the little slut.”
“That’s it!” Shannon shouted, causing me to jump. “I’ve heard enough of this shit! Get the hell out of my house!”
“Where am I supposed to go at this time of night?” Julie asked, her voice suddenly sounding pitiful and innocent.
“I don’t care where you go,” he snarled, his tone cold and flat, “but I better not see you on my doorstep!”
She sobbed something unintelligible and then the front door slammed.
My cramps seemed to become more intense. I groaned, slinging off the covers. As quietly as possible, I used the wall to guide me down the hall to the bathroom. I flipped the light on and used the sink to get to the toilet.
As usual, I vomited, but it was food for a change.
“Ugh,” I grumbled, sinking to the floor. For almost a week, I had been sick. And as much as I hated to admit it, I was getting worse with each passing day. I had told Matt that I was better, but knowing Shannon, he probably called my bluff.
I could hear Shannon’s soft footsteps and then the bedroom door creak open as he came to check on me. “Lil?” he whispered for no reason.
“In here,” I called.
He followed the sound of my voice.
“Did me and the bitch wake you up?” he asked flatly as he stood in the doorway.
“No,” I shook my head, gesturing to the toilet. “I was up doing my nightly vomiting experience.”
He nodded. A hard frown was set on his face. “I’m sorry for what she said. Sorry you had to hear that.”
“No worries,” I said, dismissively. “Like I’ve said before, I can leave any time you want me to. I don’t want to be the one to drive a wedge between you two.”
“I’m not concerned,” he shrugged, squatting down in front of me. “She’ll be back in the morning, bitching at me for something else.”
“Yeah,” I chuckled. “You two are better than Jerry Springer.”
“Are you finished hurling for the moment?”
“I think so,” I nodded.
“Good,” he said, standing up. He went over to the storage cabinet and got a washcloth; he ran it under the sink. Then, he crouched in front of me and started gently wiping my face. “Let’s get you back to bed, huh?” he suggested after a few minutes
I nodded.
He stood up, tossing the used washcloth in the sink. He bent down, wrapped my arms around his neck, and effortlessly pulled me to a standing position. Wrapping my arms around his waist, he started walking me back to his room.
I grunted through another series of cramps as Shannon put my legs underneath the covers and tucked me in like a child. “I think I should go to the doctor tomorrow,” I sighed. “I don’t know how much more of this mess I can take.”
“I know,” he nodded, walking around to his side of the bed. He had grown accustomed to sleeping with me, which probably pissed Julie off the most. “I tried making you an appointment earlier today,” he informed me as he removed his shoes, shirt, and cargo pants. “But its cold season, so they were booked. We’re scheduled for two tomorrow afternoon.”
“We,” I raised a brow, “I thought you were working tomorrow.”
“No, I’m giving myself the day off,” he replied, climbing into bed.
“What would I ever do without you?” I grinned as I snuggled closer to him, laying my head across his chest.
“I ask myself that question all the time,” he laughed.

My legs were bouncing nervously as I waited in the waiting room. I hated the smell of a doctor’s office. I had spent the majority of my childhood in places like this, so being involved in this cesspool of sickness only brought back painful memories.
“It’s a good thing we’re here,” Shannon noted, his eyes remained glued to an article in an out-dated issue of a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. “Because, when you’re unconscious from lack oxygen, we won’t have to go too far to get you treated. You seriously need to breathe. You act like you’re about to walk on death row or something.”
“Maybe I am,” I spat, glaring at him out of the corner of my eye. “When I was kid, doctors were the closest thing to Satan. They always had bad news to tell me. Imagine being three and having someone tell you that you need a major surgery because your hips are out of alignment. Or, imagine being six, and they tell you that your feet need to be reconstructed.”
Shannon rolled his eyes. “You’re not going under the knife, Lil,” he reassured. “You’re just here to get your stomach flu treated. End of story.”
“Ms. Merrette?” A nurse called for the doorway.
I jumped, causing Shannon to laugh.
“Want me to go back there and hold your hand?” he asked, teasingly.
“No,” I spat. “You stay and enjoy your magazine, Martha Stewart.”
I grudgingly drug myself toward the doorway.
The middle-aged nurse greeted me warmly. “Good afternoon, Ms. Merrette. Please, follow me.”
My crutches echoed as I walked down the hall toward the open room at the end of it. The nurse told me to get on the examination table. She asked the standard questions, jotted my responses on my chart, and then told me that the doctor would be with me shortly.
By shortly, she must’ve meant twenty minutes later. I was sitting on a less than comfortable table with my head between my knees and trying not to throw up.
“Sorry to have kept you waiting, Lily,” Dr. Phelps said apologetically as he entered the room, carrying my chart in his hand.
I looked up, glaring at him with narrow eyes. “No problem,” I sneered. “It’s not like I have to up-chuck or anything. What kind of doctor’s office doesn’t have a trashcan specifically for puking?”
“Let me take care of that,” he said, not even flinching at my comments. He stuck his head out of the door and asked a nurse for a trashcan. She brought one in and sat it in front of me.
“Sick on our stomach, are we?” he asked, rolling a chair in front of me and taking a seat.
“No, shit,” I snapped. “What am I paying you twenty-five bucks for if you’re just gonna be Captain Obvious?”
He chuckled, scribbling something down on my chart. “So, Lily, how long have you been nauseated?”
I gagged into the trashcan. “About a week,” I answered, groaning.
He hummed in response and scrawled something else down.
“Besides the vomiting, are you experiencing anything else, such as a fever?”
“No, just cramps, terrible cramps,” I replied.
His head shot up, his eyes studying me curiously. “I see,” he said thoughtfully. “When was your last menstruation?”
“You should know better than to ask me that, Doc,” I laughed.
He smiled a little bit, but his mind was obviously absent from the conversation. “Yes, well,” he nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”
We didn’t speak for a second.
“When did the cramping commence?”
“Right around the same time my hurling did. Why?”
“Curious,” he said, more to himself than to me, “Very curious.” He put his pin to his lips, pondering.
I wrinkled my forehead in confusion. “At the risk of sounding like a female Bugs Bunny, what’s up, Doc?” I asked.
Dr. Phelps looked at me, but didn’t seem to register my question. He just kept murmuring something to himself as he scribbled some notations on my file.
“Have you had sexual relations within the past month or so?” he finally asked.
“Yes,” I replied slowly, raising my brow at him.
“Ah, curious indeed,” he nodded.
“Will you stop saying that Dr. P,” I wailed. “I’m not some freaking monkey here. Will you tell me what the hell my sex life has to do with my stomach flu?”
“Well,” he smiled as he sat my file down beside me, “you appear to have the symptoms of a pregnancy, Lily. However, given your circumstances, I cannot be sure until I get some blood results. If you’re not pregnant, then I can treat this as a stomach virus….”
“P-pregnant,” I stammered.
He was still speaking to me, but I had momentarily lost my ability to hear as well as the ability process any kind of thought. I just gawked at him, deaf, numb, and suddenly dizzy.
“Lily?” he questioned, snapping his fingers in front of my face.
I blinked in recognition of my name.
“As I was saying,” he continued, noting that I was somewhat cognitive, “this is only a theory and not very likely, but I still want to rule out all the possibilities. We don’t want any surprises popping up in the next nine months, now do we?”
He has jokes? He is practically playing God with my future, and he has jokes?
“No!” I shrieked angrily as I prepared to wrap my hands around his neck and choke him into unconsciousness. “You told me I could never have kids. You can’t say crap like that and then tell me it’s a possibility. No take backs!”
“Calm down, Lily,” he pleaded, intelligently backing his chair away from me. “As I’ve said, this is doubtful, but I just want to be sure. We will get your blood drawn and go from there.”
My pulse stared racing and my breathing grew heavier. Was I excited or scared shitless? I would wager that I was a little of both.
“I’m going to need you to calm down, Lil,” Dr. Phelps’s voice seemed to be an annoying ring in my ears as he addressed me informally.
“I’m calm. I’m freaking stagnate,” I mumbled, unaware that my fingers were clawing holes in the paper that covered the table.
He looked at me, doubtfully. “I’m going to give you a moment or two to get yourself together,” he said. “Then, I’ll have a nurse come in and take your blood. You’ll have to wait an hour for the results, so if you have something else you need to do, feel free to leave. I can phone you when I get the news.”
After two vials of my blood were taken, I made my way back to the waiting room. I had one hour, and I was praying that I would wake up from this before I drowned this time.
“Hey,” Shannon greeted, throwing his magazine onto the table, “Are we all taken care of?”
“Not quite,” I sighed, flopping down next to him. “I’ve got some test results coming.”
He furrowed a brow. “Test results,” he repeated, concerned. “Is it something serious?”
“Let’s hope not,” I replied, not trying to sugarcoat the situation.
“How long do we have to wait?”
“An hour,” I sighed again.   “If you want to, you can go to the shop. I’m going to wait here.”
“It is serious, isn’t it?” he frowned.
I shrugged.
“Well, then, my ass is staying put.”
I laughed, trying to change the mood. “You just want to finish that Better Homes and Gardens, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I was learning a lot about caring for trumpet plants, thank you very much.”
Pregnant...That one small word had such an impact on my nervous system. My whole body was twitching in anticipation. I had wanted this moment so bad, but now that it had presented itself in such a dramatic fashion, I wasn’t so sure I did anymore. I wanted Matt—No, I needed Matt. He would hold my hand and tell me that everything was fine and that I would be back to longing for my Jeff-Jenn fairy tale an hour from now. In one hour, I would be able to rebuff the idea of being Lil Merrette, plus one.
“Plus one,” I snorted nervously to myself.
Having finished one ladies’ magazine, Shannon ventured to a Cosmopolitan. He looked up at me, befuddled. “Why are you doing math?” he asked. “If you’re that bored, why don’t you read one of these magazines? They’re actually quite fascinating.”
“No, thanks,” I laughed dryly as I leaned over to read the title of the article he was reading. “I’m pretty sure I know…The Ten Wonders of the Wonder Bra.”
I jumped at the sound of his cell phone.
“Calm down,” he chuckled. He flipped his phone open and read the caller identification. “Hello?”
I could hear a female whining, but I couldn’t make out who she was. It had to be Julie; she was a whiner. That’s how she reeled Shannon back in all the time. She’d give him some sobbing apology, and he would forgive her. Trying to save him from the repercussions of his stupidity, I smacked him on the back of his head.
“What?” he shrilled. “It’s Jenn.”
He mumbled something to her and was hesitant about handing over the phone.
I mouthed a no.
“Uh, sorry, Jenn,” he sighed as he shot me a puzzled look. “She’s not up for it. We’re at the doctor’s, waiting on some results.” He lowered his voice, almost as if that would prevent me from hearing him. “I think it’s serious, but she’s not saying.”
“I’m right here, you ass,” I huffed, smacking him again.
“All the more reason for you to tell me what’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you when I know,” I replied, sinking down in my chair.
            He mumbled a response to Jenn and hung up. He studied me for a moment before asking, “If it was life or death, you’d tell me, right?”
            “I’m not dying, Shan,” I rolled my eyes.
            “Then what’s happening?” He was giving me a pitiful, pleading look.
            I couldn’t tell him the truth, because what if I wasn’t pregnant? I wouldn’t be able to face him without looking devastated.
            “If it’s serious,” I reassured, taking his hand in mine, “I’ll tell you. I promise.”
            He brought our intertwined hands to his lips and kissed the back of mine. “Good,” he sighed. “That’s all I ask.”
            I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Shannon was nudging me and telling me that I was being called back. I lifted my head off his shoulder and looked groggily at Dr. Phelps.
            “Want me to come with you?” Shannon asked, anxiously.
            I gulped, shaking my head as I stood up and followed Dr. Phelps to the back. He led me to the room we had been in an hour ago and shut the door behind us.
I sat down in one of the chairs and waited.
            “Well,” he began as he pulled a chair in front of me and sat down, “I have your blood test results.”
            “Duh,” I spat. “Let’s just skip the chit-chat and get on with it. You’ve had me waiting long enough.”
            “As I suspected, you’re pregnant, Lily,” he said, not even bothering to pretend like he was reading my results for the first time.
            I bit my lip, closing my eyes to fight back the tears. “But you said…”
            “Yes, well, this is very rare,” he explained. “To be quite honest, you had a one and millionth chance of having the ability to conceive a child. You are very lucky.”
            Tell that to the man who knocked me up, I thought. Now that his “wild oats” had been firmly planted, Matt would be tied to me for the rest of his life. And I knew that’s not what he wanted—or needed. He was supposed to be able to leave this behind when someone better came along.
            When I didn’t make a response, Dr. Phelps continued, “Because your menstruation is so irregular, I cannot tell how far along you are without an ultrasound. I took the liberty of scheduling you for one next Wednesday.”
            I nodded, but hadn’t heard a word he said.
            “Seeing as this is not a normal pregnancy, I would like to see one more time before I refer you to an OB-GYN…Lily, are you comprehending any of this?”
            I nodded again, still deaf.
            “Good,” he smiled, standing. “We will meet again on Friday.”
            “Thanks,” I finally squeaked as I followed him to the door.
            “And Lil…”
            I slowly turned to face him.
            “Congratulations.”


            I was silent on the way back to Shannon’s. Not only was I trying to wrap my mind around this whole situation, but I was trying to figure out an appropriate way to tell the man that I secretly loved that I was carrying his child. I could—and it sounded even more appealing with each passing second—take the coward’s way out and leave Matt an anonymous note in his mailbox. My other options would involve yelling, crying, and a lot of heartache. Nope. I wasn’t going to go there. I had one more week to figure out another alternative. Either way, Matt would still be upset, and either way, he would never look at me the same.
            I frowned at the thought.
            “What?” Shannon asked, looking at me out of the corner of his eye.
            I jumped at the sound of his voice. “Nothing,” I replied coldly.
            “So you’re just keeping me in the dark, then?” He sounded irritated.
            “Well, it’s not life-threatening,” I replied, staring out the windshield. It was raining, which made me laugh aloud.
“What?”
“I’m upset, so it’s raining,” I laughed again, a black humor behind it. “I find that a little ironic.”
“Why won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”
“Because I don’t want it bothering you,” I sighed. “You don’t want to be mixed up in this, trust me.”
“Whatever it is, I want to be mixed up in it,” he insisted, taking his eyes of the road for a second. “I want to help you here, but I don’t know how to unless you tell me what’s going on.”
“Contrary to your beliefs, I’m not your responsibility, Shan.”
“As long as I live and breathe, yes, ma’am, you are.”
“Quit badgering me, please,” I pouted. “I’ll tell you whenever I’m ready to.”
“Fine,” he scowled.
A few moments of silence followed.
“Ready yet?”
I groaned. “Shannon!”
“I’m telling you,” he warned, but there was a hint of humor in his tone, “I will drive below the speed limit and stop every five miles until you tell me what’s going on.”
“You can’t get away with that,” I pointed out, a slight smile forming in the corners of my mouth. “With your luck, you’d get arrested.”
“True,” he agreed as he bit his lip and pondered. “Fine...” He took a deep breath, and started singing, off-key, “I know a song that gets on everybody’s nerves, everybody’s nerves, everybody’s nerves. I know a song that gets on everybody’s nerves, and this is how it goes…” He took in another deep breath and began repeating the song.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Shannon,” I rolled my eyes.
“I can do this until you cave,” he chuckled, still singing that annoying verse.
“I know a song that gets on everybody’s nerves, everybody’s nerves, everybody’s nerves. I know a song that gets on everybody’s nerves, and this is how it goes…”
            After five minutes, he was pretty into his performance, screaming at the top of his voice and stressing the word “everybody’s” each time.
            “Okay, okay!” I roared, cutting him off. “I will tell you as long as you promise to never fucking sing that stupid damn song in my presence ever again!”
            “Deal,” he grinned.
            I sighed, trying to figure at the best way to approach this.
            I could feel Shannon looking at me as he eagerly waited for my explanation.
            “Watch the road,” I demanded.
            He snapped his head to the front. “Yes ma’am.”
            “Okay,” I drew in a quivering breath. I could do this. I could tell Shannon, at least. He wasn’t Matt, so he probably wouldn’t have a disastrous reaction. “You know those dreams I’ve been having?”
            He nodded.
            “Well, I’ve kind of been pregnant in all of them.”
            “Not following?”
            I glared at him, angrily. He picked horrible moments to play dumb.
            “I’m pregnant, you moron!” I shouted in frustration.
            “What!” he shrilled, jerking his head in my direction and bringing the steering wheel with it.
            Okay, so this was a disastrous reaction. The car swerved into the other lane of on-coming traffic. Angry car horns blared at us as they rapidly approached.
            “Damn it, Shan!” I shouted as he jerked the vehicle back into the proper lane. “Are you trying to kill the freaking embryo before I even get a chance to have it?”
Shannon didn’t respond as he pulled the car to the shoulder. He turned off the engine, unbuckled himself, and turned to face me. His mouth was hanging open in shock.
“Are you serious?” he asked.
“No, it’s an elaborate joke,” I spat. “Knock-Knock—who’s there? Me, I’m pregnant.”
“W-What,” he stammered. “I mean, h-how? How is this even possible?”
“Unprotected sex,” I replied, being somewhat sarcastic.
He nodded. “I know that. But how, though? I mean, they were positive…”
“Yeah, they were positive, all right,” I scoffed, “Positively wrong.”
He was silent a few minutes and then a grin spread across his face. “I can’t believe you’re pregnant,” he exclaimed happily as he drew me in for a hug. “This is so great! I’m so happy for you.”
“No, no,” I shrugged him off, staring at him with wide eyes. “No, Shannon, this is not great. Far from great, more like teetering on the edge of disastrous. Stop and think about it. What did you say when we had talked about this before? Think about who the father is!”
“Matt.” He tried not to let me see him grimace as he slumped back into his seat.
“Yeah, Matt,” I nodded. “Under normal circumstances, I’d be through the roof, but he is not going to like this, and we both know it.”
“Sure, he’ll be…surprised, but maybe––”
“He knocked up a nineteen-year-old,” I wailed. “I don’t think ‘surprised’ will cover it! You know he doesn’t want kids, not with me.”
            He gave me a sympathetic look. “Lil, you had no idea this would happen,” he soothed. “You make it sound like this is your fault.”
            I was on the verge of tears at this point. “That’s because it is,” I choked. “I should’ve known better than to get this close to him. I can’t tell him something like this. He’ll think I’ve been lying this whole time, like I’ve been waiting for this to happen so I could hit him up for money.”
            “Lil,” he scowled. “You don’t know what Matt will think, or even how he’ll react. This is a miracle, and Matt’s probably going to be respectful about it.”
            “I just can’t tell him. I don’t want to see the look he’ll have on his face.”
            I broke into sobs.
Shannon had never seen this venerable side of me, so he wasn’t sure how to respond. He took my hand and brought the palm of it to his lips. “I’ll help you tell him,” he offered. “If you want me to, I can help you tell the whole lot.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to tell anyone right now.”
“Between us it is.” He nodded, understandingly.
“Thanks.”
“No problem, sweetheart,” he said as he turned the key in the ignition. “Now, let’s go get me shitfaced to celebrate.”
Shannon’s plans to celebrate quickly fizzled out, due to the weather and me not being up for it. I didn’t feel like celebrating the fact that I was about to be an unwed mother. Instead, he settled for a bowl of popcorn and a black and white movie. We were curled up on his sofa. His arms were secured around me and my head was lying on his chest. I had seen this particular Marilyn Monroe flick a dozen times, so I ended up falling asleep halfway through it.

            I was staring down the end of a lavishly decorated aisle. The bridal march was bellowing joyously from the organ, next to the preacher’s pulpit. Two-hundred guests rose to their feet, all smiling as they turned to stare at me. I had a white veil—which if I had been in my right mind, I would have decided against having a potential hazard blocking my vision—over my face, so I had trouble making out faces, except for one.
            As he turned in my direction, my breath caught in my throat. Even as a figment of my imagination, Matt was perfect. He stood as still as a statue in his black tuxedo and waited patiently as I made my grand, Cinderella-esque entrance.
            I floated down the aisle, my eyes never leaving his. He was smiling at me, almost eagerly, as if he had been waiting for me for quite a while. As I took his hand, he swept my veil back, not waiting for our vows to be read.
            The music stopped, and I heard a familiar voice break the silence.
            “Dearly beloved…”
            I tore myself away from Matt’s loving stare.
            There, standing before the two of us, wearing the black robe and green Holy sash (which I couldn’t help noticing that it had The Hardys’ wrestling logo embroidered on both ends), was Jeff. He was holding a copy of The Hardys Show DVD and reading from it like it was scripture.
            Without verbally answering me, Matt gave me a telepathic explanation for why Jeff was our minister. He had been ordained over the Internet, but that still didn’t explain why he was using their DVD as the Bible.
            I didn’t dwell on the unexplainable and listened as Jeff continued.
            “We are gathered here today, in the presence of the God—and the entire World Wrestling Entertainment locker room—to witness these three––”
            Wait a minute, did he say three? What am I a Mormon? Did Matt notice that I was marrying someone other than him? Jeff seemed to pause again as I looked around the crowded church for my second groom. I immediately assumed that the second man in question was Shannon, but looking over Matt’s shoulder, I realized that he was serving as the best man.
Jeff cleared his throat, waiting for me to stop my impractical thoughts so he could go on about his business. It was then that I realized I was about eight months pregnant. Although, a few minutes ago, I hadn’t been.
“As I was saying,” Pastor Jeff went on, looking at us, then to our guests, “we are gathered here today to witness these three individuals being united by the bonds of holy matrimony. This is not to be entered unadvised or lightly, but reverently, discretely, and all that other stuff in between. Some more useless shit comes after that. If anyone can show just cause why this family should not be joined together, you can keep it to your damn self, because I’m moving on.”
He turned his attention to his older brother. “Matt, do you take Lil to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, and keep her during sickness and in health; forsaking all others, so long as you both shall live? Do you so promise?”
“Yeah,” Matt answered, smiling at me.
“Lil,” Jeff turned to me. “Do you promise to do all the shit I asked Matt?”
“I do,” I nodded, laughing.
“Good,” he nodded, throwing the DVD over his shoulder, “Now for the exchanging of the rings.”
Matt had both of our wedding bands in the breast pocket of his tuxedo. He handed his to me. We started placing the rings on our respective fingers.
“The ring you’re placing on one another’s hand is made in a complete circle, without a beginning or an end. It is symbolic of you endless love for one another excreta, excreta. I’m sure you get the picture.”
Matt nodded.
“Well, then, by the Power vested to me by Ordain Me Now—and the state of North Carolina—I can finally pronounce you husband and wife. You may now french your bride, man.”
During the kiss, Jeff was trying to announce us as Mr. and Mrs. Matt Hardy, but his voice was being drowned out by the sound of…a doorbell?
I was ripped out of my dreamland and Shannon from his. This had been the first time either of us had really had a descent few hours worth of sleep, and we were being interrupted.
We were looking at each other and around the room, trying to get our wits about us. It took me several minutes to realize that I wasn’t a blushing bride. And it took him several minutes to realize that doorbell was still ringing.
“Oh,” he yawned, slipping away from me and rising from the couch. He moved into the front hallway.
I straightened up, trying to figure out which parts of my dream were real. I looked at my left hand…nothing. I quickly lifted my shirt above my breast and examined my stomach. It was the same as it had been, not even the slightest hint of a little being in there. I rubbed my hand across it, just to make sure. Other than the annoying cramps and nausea, I couldn’t tell that I was pregnant.
I sighed, rubbing my stomach, as if a Genie would suddenly emerge from it and grant me three wishes. Wish number one: Reverse time and make me insist that Matt use protection. Wish number two: Make it impossible for Jeff to become an ordained minister. I didn’t really care for the third wish, so long as I was granted the first two without any complications.
“Hey, little embryo or embryo-ette,” I began, poking my stomach, as if that would get the little thing’s attention, “I’ll cut a deal with you, kiddo. If you quit giving me wonky, mixed up dreams, then I’ll quit eating a shit—crap—crapload of sweets before we go to bed. Sound reasonable? And try halting on those growth spurts. You’re dad doesn’t even know about you yet, so let’s keep this making-me-look-like-a-giant-boulder-thing to a minimum, ‘kay?”
I felt a familiar presence standing in the doorway. I jerked my shirt down and looked up to greet whoever it was. I froze.
His sturdy frame was leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. He was wearing those faded blue jeans that I love so much and a black dress shirt, unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up. I thought it was odd for him to be wearing sunglasses in this kind of weather, but perhaps, he was using them as a shield of some sort. I could feel an uneasy emotion rolling off of him as he stared at me.
“M-Matt,” I stammered, looking at him wide-eyed. “What are you? How did you? When did you? Why are you?”
He didn’t answer. With his jaw set firmly, he crossed the room, in a few graceful strides, and took a seat next to me.
I shifted my body in order to face him and waited for an explanation.
He stared at me a moment and then that infectious smile danced across his lips. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
“Tell you what?” I countered, deciding that it was best to play dumb.
“Lil…” His hands felt like fire through my clothing as they pressed against my abdomen.
I knew that I had my mouth hanging open. “H-How do you? When did you find?” I stammered again. “Wait, are you?”
“Happy?” he offered, laughing at my loss for words.
I gulped, nodding.
“What do you think?” He smirked, pulling me into his arms and kissing me. This wasn’t the habitual kiss that usually accompanied casual sex; it was that slow kiss, the kind you see in movies. You know, before that dramatic mood music hits and ruins everything? That’s what I was waiting for. Any minute now, some blaring trumpets were going to interrupt my perfect moment.
What I heard wasn’t too far off—laughter, a boisterous chorus of it. Who in his or her right mind would be laughing? This moment was textbook romantic.
“Lil, Lil,” Shannon was laughing as he shook me, “Lil, wake up, stop frenching my pillow.”
My eyes shot open. I was laying facedown on the sofa, clutching one of Shannon’s throw pillows and passionately wooing it with my tongue.
“Oh, my God,” I squealed, mortified as I hurled the pillow across the room.
“Good dream?” Jenn asked. She and Jeff were trying, and failing, at their attempt not to laugh at me. I thought Jeff was going to start rolling in the floor.
I immediately went to get up, but rolled right off the couch and landed, on my back, at Jeff’s feet.
“How long have you guys been here?” I asked, staring up at him. All the blood pumping through my body had found its way to my cheeks.
“Long enough to see you violate a pillow in ways I’ve never imagined,” he replied. “I always knew you were a freak, man, but damn.”
“Jeff, don’t just stand there,” Jenn giggled, slapping him on the shoulder. “Get the little pillow whisperer up.”
“Cute,” I snarled at her as Jeff grabbed both of my hands and sat me back on the couch.
Shannon had walked across the room to pick up my inanimate lover. He was scowling as he turned back around.
“Did it have to be this one?” he asked. “Out of all the pillows to make out with, you had to pick the one Grams made.”
“Next time I’ll spare the pillows and just make out with the arm of the fu—freaking couch,” I grumbled in response. I don’t know what possessed me to filter myself the way I had in my crazy dream within another crazy dream, but I did.
“Freaking?” Jenn raised a brow. It must have struck her as odd, too.
I looked down at my stomach and remembered my little embryo. Stop staring, I said to myself as I looked down at my unchanged belly. You’ll blow your cover.
“So, uh, what are you guys doing here, anyway?” I asked nervously as I cleared my throat.
Jeff couldn’t resist throwing another jab in. “You mean, besides watching you make out with priceless Moore family heirlooms?”
Jenn elbowed him for his remark and then plopped down next to me.
“I just wanted to see how your appointment went,” she replied.
I gulped. I couldn’t lie to Jenn, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually tell her the truth either. “I have to go back next Friday for some tests. Nothing serious, though, just a few routine tests,” I told her. There, that wasn’t exactly a lie.
She seemed to buy it, but looked over at Shannon for conformation. He was sitting in his leather recliner.
“Uh, yeah,” he replied, looking over at me. He hated keeping his friends out of the loop, so he was probably hoping I would tell them right now and get it over with. I wasn’t telling anyone else about my embryo until I told Matt. Well, until I figured out how I how to tell him, at least.
“Well, we’re going for an ultrasound next Wednesday, so you can go with us,” she suggested, nodding thoughtfully. She was probably trying to figure out a way for all three of us to fit into that corvette of Jeff’s.
“Well, Shannon was planning to take me,” I said quickly. “He’s cleared his schedule and everything. Thanks for the offer, though.”
“Oh, come on,” she pleaded as she lightly gripped my arm. “You’re causing Shannon such an inconvenience. We can just take you.”
I was about to decline again, but Shannon piped up.
“You know, that’s not a bad idea.”
I glared at him, gritting my teeth. “Shannon.”
“I own my own business. It would be nice to actually work there on occasion. I have been home with you for almost a week, so it’d be nice to check-in. I need to make sure my guys aren’t tearing GasChamber to pieces.”
“Shannon.” I was whining now. “But you promised.”
Jeff and Jenn were confused as they alternated glances between us.
“I know,” he nodded casually, “but there will be others I can attend.”
Okay, so I thought I wasn’t going to tell anyone else. I instantly picked up on Shannon’s friendly subtly. He saw the appointment as a perfect opportunity to tell one-half of the Hardy clan.
“I thought you understood?” I hissed.
“Just a suggestion,” he grumbled. “If you really want me to take you, then I can just miss another day of work. No big deal. It’s not like I can fire myself.”
“Hey,” Jenn interrupted, squeezing my arm, “I thought you said it wasn’t serious?”
“It’s not.” I tried to sound reassuring despite the lump in my throat.
Jenn arched a brow and folded her arms across her chest. “Then why don’t you want us to take you?” she asked.
“Because…Nothing.” I sighed. “I reckon I can go with you.”
“When’s your appointment?”
“Two.”
“Perfect. Mine’s at three.”
“Wonderful,” I smiled, but I didn’t sound excited.
Jenn didn’t stay much very much longer. She, Jeff, and Shannon chatted for a few more minutes. I waited impatiently to be left alone with Shannon. 1) So I could rip him a new one for almost letting my secret slip, and 2) so we could discuss how on earth he expected me to tell Jenn and Jeff my secret.
After letting our friends out, he came bounding back into the living room.
I pursed my lips and glowered at him. “Shannon Brian Moore.”
“What?” He looked at me innocently as he took a seat on the couch.
I shoved him to the floor.
“You put me on the spot, you dillhole! It could’ve just been you with me, but no, you have to be all Mr. Subtly. Now I’m going to have to tell them, even if I’m not up for it! After I finish barfing, we’re talking about this!”

Shannon and I didn’t talk about it. I gave him the silent treatment. Well, kind of. I couldn’t stop speaking to him entirely. I did tell him that he was sleeping on the couch tonight. To which he shrieked, “Lil, this is my house! You cannot make me sleep on my own couch!” His protest fell on deaf ears. If he had not decided to compare me Julie, I would have considered giving him a pillow and a blanket.

I could hear him tossing things around the living room, even with his bedroom door shut. Under the circumstances, his tantrum was the only thing striking me as humorous. I sat on his bed and listened. So I probably should have given him a break. Shannon was only trying to help me get over my fear of telling Matt. He thought if I told other people, I would get an idea of what to say. A “practice-run,” he called it. Well, it would take more than one “practice-run” to get anywhere close to figuring out how to tell Matt Hardy Version 1.0 that he was about to have a Version 2.0 nine months from now.
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The Guidelines of Sex & Friendship