I’ve heard that North Carolina is a beautiful state. From it’s magnificent coast lines to it’s majestic mountains, I hear it is quite a site to behold. But from where I stand nothing in the state of North Carolina could compare to the beauty of it’s native son, Matthew Moore Hardy.

I noticed him the minute I walked in the door of this company. The first time I laid eye’s on him, I knew I was hooked. I remember that first time like it was yesterday. It was before they hooked me with Evolution, and I was sharing a locker room with a bunch of other guys. I stepped into the room and everyone just looked at me like they hated me instantly. Everyone, that was, except for one black haired, pouty lipped, Matthew Hardy. He was the first one to come up to me and offer his hand in welcome. With the first touch of that velvety soft skin, however, I was willing to offer him more than thanks.

From that day on, he has constantly been on my mind. At times he would consume my mind to the point I could think of nothing else. At other times he would just be a pleasant thought when I heard a certain song on the radio, or while I was out with the guys. However, no matter what I was doing or who I was with, Matthew was there.

His name, alone, sends shivers down my spine. It is so fitting of him. Matthew means ‘gift of the Lord’, and that’s exactly what he is. Most of his friends call him Mattie. Not me though, I call him Matthew because he has to be a gift directly from the Lord himself. I know it sounds silly, but there’s been times I’ve actually prayed that he was a gift for me. Sent straight from God to complete my life. Like I said I know it sounds silly. His middle name even suites him. Moore. It means ‘of dark color’. Don’t even get me started about those eyes and those locks of curls that frame his face like silk.

I could go on for days about his physical attributes. His lips, that look as though they were made for kissing. Oh yes, those ample lips alone are enough to send me into a fit of erotic fantasies. I could only imagine what they would feel like pressed against mine. Tasting them. I bet they taste like cotton candy, pure flavored sugar. Oh, and when he smiles, I become a puddle on the floor. I don’t think there is anything I could deny him, just to see him simply smile. Hell, he even looks good when he pouts.

That hair is another story all together. So dark, its like the color of midnight. And it looks so soft and silky that sometimes it’s all I can do not to just tangle my fingers in it. Feeling those curls wrapping around my fingers would be like pure heaven on earth. It also smells so sweet. A combination of vanilla and brown sugar from what I can gather. I purposely take a shower right after him, when we’re at the arena, just to wrap myself in the smell of him. Think me strange, but to me, it’s almost erotic. Standing in the shower just letting his essence engulf me.

That, however, would require that I speak to him, and that just isn’t gonna happen. I don’t know why, but every time I get around him my tongue gets all tied in knots. I just end up sounding like a real life Eugene whenever I speak to him. We’ve known each other for five years now. You think I would be over this. But still, after this long, I find it hard to put together a coherent sentence around him.

Now you can’t talk about Matthew without talking about his body. His chest might as well have ‘rest head here’ tattooed to it. It’s so broad and strong, with just the right amount of hair on it, to be inviting. So many nights I’ve fallen asleep with my head on some hotel pillow, just dreaming it was that chest. I’ve even caught myself stroking the pillow like I was running my fingers through that hair. I have seen him with a smooth chest once. And trust me that’s just as inviting. I could just imagine being the one to dribble the hot wax over that broad expanse and just..... Wait I’m getting off track here.

His stomach. Now there’s something to talk about. I’ve seen him doing crunches in the back, and dear Lord, those abs can send lightning hot waves of desire through my body. Especially when he’s done and he just lays there on the floor trying to catch his breath. The way the muscles of his torso move under that perfect slightly tanned flesh. That can practically make me have to change clothes.

The most attractive thing about him, though, is his very soul. I’ve never seen anyone so genuinely nice in my whole life. He is always willing to help the younger guys that are just starting out. I should know, I was one of them. He’s always doing something for some charity. He visits children's hospitals and schools whenever he can. With everything he’s seen, between the hospitals and charity works you’d think he’d be cynical about life, but he’s not. He still lives life to the fullest. He still smiles all the damn time. Thank God. Because his smile actually makes my heart ache. Every time I see it, I just want to wrap my arms around him and never let him go. I love this man. I admitted that to myself years ago.

I don’t know why I’m standing here staring at him. I should just go over there and take him in my arms, and tell him my feelings. After all, I’m Randy Orton, the Legend Killer. I shouldn’t be intimidated by this man. However, I am. But there’s no time like the present. Here goes nothing. Legs and voice don’t fail me now.