Our Love Goes On and On

Waiting For My Heart To Beat

*Hey, guys, this chapter is going to be in a narrator p.o.v. instead of Chase's. Everything will make much more sense if it is. Enjoy!*

She had to pick him up from the airport.

It wasn't something she wanted to do, because let's face it, their marriage was in his hands. What if she saw him and he said he wanted to wrestle more than he loved her? Well, that's what Chase was scared of.

So she drank.

Chase pounded on the hotel room door and bobbed her head to the sweet melodies running through her mind. A small sway as she waited for someone, anyone, to open the door to room...3210? Was that what it was? She didn't really remember.

"Open up the..." she stopped and tried to gather a sentence that made sense, "open the damn door!" she slurred, "I want my...what do I want?"

There were a few noises on the other side of the door and soon it opened.

"I want a potato!" she giggled at her own joke and rocked back and forth on her heels. "Oh, Randal, you're looking mighty fine this evening."

"Chase?"

"How do you like New York?"

"Are you drunk?"

"No! How dare..." she slurred herself into another fit of laughter, "I just want my potato."

"Come here." Randy grabbed her arm and pulled her inside, leading her to the edge of his King size mattress. "Why are you drunk?"

Chase didn't say a word. She just began humming to herself.

"You smell like vodka and strawberries." he said, "Did you ever get Roman from the airport?"

She shook her head, "And I never got my potato."

Randy shook his head and called to another room, making sure someone went to the airport to get Roman. They weren't the best of friends, especially after everything that had been happening recently, but he wasn't going to leave the guy stranded at the airport this late at night.

"Okay, so you can have the bed and I'll sleep on the pull out couch. Deal?" he looked at her as though he was going to get answer, but she never gave him one.

He went over to his suitcase and grabbed a big tshirt, giving it to her and leaving her alone in the bathroom so she could change. Soon after that she stumbled out and he placed her comfortably in bed.

He watched her drift off to sleep and it didn't take long for that to happen. She'd wake up with a bad headache, and her feet would probably hurt too.

She looked so beautiful as she slept. Even with her hair slightly covering her face. She was so tiny, and he imagined any bed you put her in, she would still look just as small.

But he felt a certain amount of protectiveness over her. And that's when Randy started to analyze his feelings for the woman sleeping in his hotel bed.

He didn't feel an emotional connection to her. It was more so a brotherly feeling, like he had to help her at all costs.

What had been happening lately was completely out of line. On his part, and on hers. He wasn't that guy. He didn't steal women from their husbands. That's not who he was. He had been married and he knew the feeling of another man even looking at his wife, and he couldn't imagine the feeling of someone trying to take her completely away from him.

They were friends. And recently, that's all it felt like. Nothing more, nothing less.

His friend was sleeping off all the alcohol and strawberries, and even the potatos that she wanted tonight.