Another CM Punk story, not really confident with situating it on the road with other wrestlers at WWE, hope you like this one, please rate it if you read it :)
"This is great you guys," Clair exclaimed as we parked in the hotel lot. "A whole weekend of friends and theatre!"
"And drinking," Brook added.
I smiled and laughed. "Just as long as I don't have to drink and we don't sleep in too late on Monday. I want to make sure to check out the pound."
I could almost feel Clair rolling her eyes as we got out of the car and made our way to the trunk. "Yes, yes Mia. We know," she stressed the words. "You've told us enough times."
I grinned sheepishly.
"Remind me again why you didn't want to check out the ones in Chicago?" Brook asked lifting out her bag and pulling up the handle.
I shrugged a shoulder, "I don't know. Maybe to always remind me of this weekend. And hey, if this weekend sucks I can always wait till we get back." I grabbed my bag and grimaced as I accidentally slammed the light-weight trunk.
Brook gave me a small glare and nudged me. "Don't. You're not allowed to be a pessimist this weekend."
"Of course not. Never," I said in mock shock. "I am full of optimism. I mean," I glanced at Clair, "I am the epitome of optimism."
"You think it's funny now, but I'm serious," she told me lightly.
I was about to give a smart retort when I remembered I had to go back to the car. "Sorry guys, I forgot my purse. Just check in and text me the floor and room number ok?"
"K," they responded in unison.
After grabbing my things I stuck my phone in the back of my jeans and made my way to the main entrance of the hotel. As I waited in the lobby for the text I slipped in my headphones and turned my music on so I could be doing something while I waited. Knowing how distracted Clair could get I knew I would be getting a text from Brook and not her.
Once I received their text of being on the 8th floor I quickly got into the elevator. The hotel was built in a bit of a curve, so each floors hallway was curved, the end rooms not being able to see each other. When the doors opened I realized that our room was going to be on the corner opposite of where my elevator was. I had never been inside a hotel like this and was surprised to see that the level changed on the floor, three small stairs were ahead of me right before the curve in the hallway came about.
Just as I was stepping up the stairs and rounding the corner I felt my body suddenly run into someone. I didn't even have time to look up as I heard the zipper rip open on my suitcase, all of its contents spilling open. Surprised I let out a small 'oh' and bent down to pick everything up.
"I'm so sorry," I said to the person I had bumped into.
"No, I'm sorry." A low, husky voice apologized. "I wasn't watching where I was going."
I was about to look up to see his face when I saw his hands shoot out and start to help me put my things back in my suitcase. Blushing with embarrassment, I quickly grabbed my underwear that was now very clear to see. My hands move quickly to try and get all of my clothes back in the bag, my shyness nearly crippling me.
"Blood Line by James Rollins and Gentle Rogue by Johanna Lindsey," his deep voice sounded, nearly making me jump and my eyes darted to his.
'No way,' I thought my body freezing as I realized who was helping me with my bag.
"Really diverse reading material."
Phil Brooks, no wait, 'CM Punk.' I could hardly believe it. It was the Phil Brooks, who had made my high school life uncomfortable and helped to ingrain so many of the insecurities that I once had and sometimes still fought to control. I was a short bookworm, with glasses and braces in high school. But I'll not forget to mention how incredibly shy I was. I had a crush on Phil during the first couple years I had known him, but then when the teasing started I had felt my tiny, innocent heart start to take a beating. I foolishly continued to like him through all the teasing, but eventually reality set in and I accepted the fact that I was nobody to him.
I had changed a lot since then. I had laser eye surgery when I got out of high school, and my braces had been long gone-got them off just before graduation. Though I was still short, I no longer carried a book with me everywhere I went, like to movies, and I had overcome a bit of my timid nature.
"Uh, yeah," I stumbled with my words and looked back down, frantically putting the last of my things in the bag. I couldn't wait to get out of the situation. "I didn't know which one I would feel like reading, so I brought both."
He chuckled, "Well, I can tell you that Blood Lines is a good one, but since I haven't read Gentle Rogue I can't really give you a recommendation. Is it a good book? The cover looks nice."
I blushed again, the heat under my skin making me feel incredibly uncomfortable. I grabbed the books from his hands and stuffed them inside the case, not even bothering to try the zip before starting to wrap my arms around it to lift up. I needed to keep moving, fearing my freak out was about to happen, or that I would embarrass myself further. But I also didn't want to start staring at him in his faded jeans and dark, printed band t-shirt that had the sleeves rolled up just over his heavily tattooed muscular forearms.
I had a weakness for tattoos.
Before I could get my arms all the way around the stuffed suitcase, Phil's arms wrapped around it easily and stood. "I've got it."
I stared up at blankly for a moment before I stood as well. He was being nice to me, something I wasn't used to him doing. It would be more familiar if he would have opened one of the books and read a passage to make fun of me with.
It would even be more familiar to me if he would make fun of me by calling me a hobbit. But he wasn't, and I was feeling a tiny bit of whiplash from the change in his behaviour.
"Which way is your room?" he asked me, his blue eyes pinning themselves to mine. He was even better looking than he had been in high school. He was fuller now, more muscles and instead of having slightly longer hair, he had it buzzed with a bit of groomed stubble. Though my feelings toward him were nothing but cold, I couldn't deny that he was incredibly attractive.
"Uh, this way," I told him and began walking stiffly down the hallway with Phil at my side. 'Doesn't he recognize me? I guess I really wasn't anyone he deemed worthy to remember from high school,' I thought bitterly. Then another, more understanding thought came to mind. 'Though, it has been quite a few years since I moved, and without my braces and glasses it's possible he wouldn't remember me.'
"So, is it?" Phil asked, sending a toothy grin my way, his lip ring tinkling in the lighting – damn I remember when he got that done.
"What?" I asked confused, not realizing he had asked me a question.
"The Gentle Rogue. Is it any good?" His eyes held a spark of laughter, and the slight curve of his lips only reaffirmed his light teasing.
I felt close to combusting. My body felt so ridged and closed; like my rib cage was constricting in on itself. Walking side-by-side my high school tormenter wasn't something I thought I would ever have to do. I had moved from Sudbury to Chicago a year before graduation, so I didn't think I would ever run into him. Then he made it big as a wrestler and the possibility of running into him got lower and lower. I thought I was safe…apparently not.
I stopped at my hotel room and turned to him. "Yes, I've been enjoying it."
"Do you think I might like it?" He asked jokingly.
"Maybe," I told him keeping my eyes in front of me.
"You've convinced me, I'll give it a shot." The smiles he kept giving me were making my heart quicken; they were drastically different from the mocking, jeering smirks he had given me so long ago. Now, they were kind and attentive-I felt paralyzed with the inability to respond.
I thought about his answer I doubted he actually would read it, after all, it was a romance novel. I didn't know what Phil read, if he even did for fun, but I didn't think that 'Gentle Rogue' would be one he would be into.
I looked at my suitcase to take a hold of it when I saw autographed pictures of a stunning looking bully on it. I must have stared at them for a shade too long because Phil took notice.
"Did you want one?" I looked up in surprise. I did not want one. I purposely didn't even watch any wrestling, aside from the occasional Monday Night Raw, because of the memories of being bullied for years his face seemed to bring up for me. The only reason I did actually watch them was because my roommate, and I will admit myself are fans of wrestling, why should someone like him take it away from me? I was able to stay away from his earlier stuff – I would just be torturing myself then - since he was the only hero good wrestler as far as I can remember, and the fact that he was portraying a heel, and a damn good one, was enough to make me laugh.
"You can have one if you want."
"No," I answered quickly, putting my hands up. "No, I'm good, thank you." Realizing how quickly it came out and how it sounded by the way he raised his eyebrows in surprise made me backtrack slightly. "I just, don't know what I would do with it." To be honest, I didn't need a picture of him in my house or anywhere near me. It was enough that he was a celebrity and I had to see his face on TV and on billboards.
"Ok," he smiled and set my suitcase on the floor then held out his hand to me. "I'm Phil by the way."
'He definitely doesn't recognize me.'
"I'm Mia," I returned and briefly toyed with the idea of just ignoring his hand. Kicking the thought out of my head I took hold of his hand and shook it. The contact made my abdomen constrict as I felt a small jolt of electricity run from him to me. His large hand was warm and strong as it encompassed mine. My gaze flew to his in surprise as I quickly took my hand back.
'Dammit,' I cursed inwardly. I realized that even though he had been my nightmare during school, I was still insanely and undeniably attracted to him. 'Shit.' I had to get away from him.
"I should be going," I said, my words rushing out as I bent down, handed him his pictures and grabbed the suitcase. "Thanks for helping me with my bag." I lightly kicked the bottom of the door with my foot, hoping Clair or Brook would be quick to open it.
"You're welcome Mia," he grinned again, his clear eyes squinting slightly.
Thankfully the door opened and Brook's giddy, smiley self-appeared. "Finally, Mia-" her words faltered as she laid surprised eyes on Phil. "H-hi."
'No,' I inwardly cringed. 'She's star-struck.' I was going to have to fill her in on who CM Punk really was once I was inside and he was gone.
"Hi," he smiled politely.
Brook craned her head back, "Clair, come here."
I flushed with mortification as Clair appeared, and stuttered out her own 'hello'. All I wanted was to get away from him and they were no doubt, wanting the opposite.
Clair looked down at the pictures in Phil's hand and turned her head to see them better.
Noticing this, Phil held out two of them to her and Brook. "Would you like one? Mia doesn't seem to want one, but maybe you would."
Brook looked at me with slight shock written on her face. "Why not?" She looked back to Phil, "I would love one, thank you."
"You're welcome."
"She probably doesn't want one because she doesn't really know who you are," Clair supplied as she took one of the pictures.
I rolled my eyes, disgusted at the entire situation. "I know who he is." Feeling Phil's eyes on me I turned to him, slightly taken aback at the intensity of his gaze. "I know who you are. It's just I've only ever seen you once on TV."
Phil laughed, "I suppose I'll have to start acting more, like The Rock or John Cena."
'No, please don't,' I silently pleaded. I had really wanted to go see Wrestlemania this year, but didn't just because he was in the main event. Stupid? Maybe. But I just didn't want any of my old insecure and hurt feelings to come back with seeing him again.
"So have you seen me in a match?" He asked leaning against the wall, never taking his eyes from me.
I felt my throat tighten slightly, feeling put on the spot. "You vs. Ryback."
"What did you think?" he asked, his eyes intently searching my face.
"It was well done" I told him trying to act nonchalantly.
"Whatever Mia, you wouldn't stop talking about it for weeks" Brook said making me grin sheepishly.
Phil smiled widely at me making me blush once again. It was annoying, how much I blushed, it was my timid side that had me hating any type of spotlight. And under normal circumstances I wouldn't be blushing so much, but seeing Phil again was sending me for a roller coaster ride. He took a step towards me and leaned in slightly, but still respecting my personal space. "I'm actually here with a few of the superstars. We're having a little break."
"That's awesome," Brook chimed in and he turned to smile at her, giving me a slight reprieve.
"Well, like I said-thank you for the help," I started, making an attempt for an escape again. I looked towards Brook and Clair, hoping they would get the hint. "I think we should be going, we're going out and don't want to be late."
Clair looked slightly confused but played along, nodding her head with a fake apologetic smile.
"Oh, I don't want to keep you," Phil said, "you ladies have yourself a good night."
I smiled, it was a smile completely made up of all the relief in the world. "You too," I said politely though I didn't really mean it.
"Maybe I'll see you around," he said looking at me with a crooked smile and a spark in his eyes. To my utter shock Phil then placed his strong hand gently on my back. "Nice to meet you Mia."
I straightened as his touch on my back sent shivers straight through my entire body, and my breath held still, refusing to release any breath till he had turned away and started his way back down the hallway.
Ignoring the stares of my two best friends I made my way past them and into the hotel room. I know I had promised Brook and Clair I wasn't going to be negative at all this weekend, but really? Did the man who had made my life hell in high school have to be here too? And did he have to be even better looking than before? And why did his touch have to affect me the way it did?
Good thing I probably won't see him again.