If I owned Matt Hardy, I'd be in jail, 'cause that shit is illegal.
Italics is Matt's POV, regular text is third person.
So I met this girl in a bar.
…alright, what an awful way to start off a story. There's no better way to put it though. But it's the truth. I met her at City Limits when the guys and I went out a few weeks ago.
I know. You're totally expecting me to say that I wooed her with a few words, took her to my place, and banged the hell out of her. Well, it didn't work like that. The only reason I noticed her to begin with was because she was a total wall flower. Well, bar flower if we're being specific.
Now, I'm no life of the party, but I know how to enjoy myself. And she kept frowning. And the only thing that crossed my mind, was that a woman as pretty as her shouldn't be frowning. So I walked over to her spot at the bar, and tried to make her smile.
"Can I buy you a drink?"
She turned around at the sound of a voice over the club's loud music, and looked at him curiously. "Excuse me?"
Matt let out a low chuckle. "I'm sorry, maybe I should introduce myself. I'm Matt. Can I buy you a drink?"
She knew who he was. She didn't follow his career, but in a small town like Cameron, it was hard not to know who anyone was. "Thanks, Matt. But, I'm alright."
She turned to back to the scene in front of her, watching her friends drunkenly grind on their boyfriend or someone that they'd randomly pulled from the bar onto the dance floor. It depended on the friend. To be honest, she didn't even want to be there, but her friends were focused on getting her to be more social, to get out and mingle.
And it wasn't like there was anything holding her back. There wasn't some random boyfriend she was trying to get over, it's not like she was holding out for some other guy. Social situations just weren't her thing.
Why a little caterpillar like her chose such a group of social butterflies as friends, she'd never know. A frown crossed her face as she thought, really, of how much she wanted to leave.
"Why you frowning, sweetheart?" Matt's voice dragged her from out of her chamber of thoughts, and her head snapped back towards him.
She didn't know what bothered her more, the way he'd phrased his question, or the fact that he was still standing there.
She shot a polite smile at him, not really in the mood for any guy's bullshit tonight. "Look, I know who you are. I don't follow what you do, but I have a hunch of how you wrestler guys treat women. And I have to say, I'm not interested."
Matt's eyebrow shot up as he went slightly slack-jawed at her accusation. "Excuse me?"
She rolled her eyes, she'd tried to be nice, but it seemed as if he couldn't catch a hint. "I'm not going to sleep with you, no matter how many drinks you offer to buy me, no matter who you are and what you do. I'm just the designated driver tonight."
Matt gave her a quick once over. She didn't even dress as if she wanted to be there. Black sneakers, casual jeans and a black cotton t-shirt did not scream 'I'm ready to club'. He let out a breathless chuckle.
"Look lady, I'm sure you're nice and everything, but I don't even know you. You looked lonely, so I thought I'd offer you a drink, exchange a few words, and go back to my seat with my boys. That's all."
She bit her lip and stared at the inebriated people on the dancefloor as she listened to him. He seemed pretty genuine. And he didn't look at her like a creep…
Although Matt could understand her apprehension, he pressed again, "Can I buy you a drink?"
She gave him a glance out of the corner of her eye. She let out a small smile. "…sure. Why not."
Matt let out a short grin. "Bartender," he called. "The lady wants a drink."
'Cause I'm cheesy like that.