A/N: Thanks for the great reviews! And again thanks to KazzaXTreme for her awesome betaing skills and of course I'll now sell her product: The Animal and the Photographer! It's a great read and you don't have to pay to read it :)
(IMOGEN POV)
Saying goodbye to Adam was so hard; from the moment we woke up he looked so unhappy. We even cried in each others arms and in front of his colleagues. I just pray he can be strong for both our sakes.
I lean my head against the plane window and wipe my cheek.
"I'm sorry Mr Cena but there's nothing we can do about the seat change," I can hear the air hostess say in a frustrated tone. "Please take your seat Mr Cena." My iPod gives the perfect disguise allowing me to listen into their conversation.
Why do I always end up with the most annoying passengers when I fly? If it's not a baby throwing up, or the stewardesses calling for a doctor because someone ate the plane food and is now throwing up, it's someone who's been asked to move and is being a prima donna about it.
I fight the urge not to look at who is next to me, I know it's this 'Mr Cena' because the guy who was originally sitting with me asked to be moved to a seat near the bathroom.
"Imogen?" I look to see John Cena so I take my earphones out and switch off my Ipod.
"John right?" I ask and he nods. Are his eyes sparkling? Oh stop it, you're married. "Why are you flying to Tampa?"
"I have to make a couple of appearances. Were you only visiting Adam for the night?"
"Yes, I have to work this weekend. No rest for the wicked."
"Doesn't it scare you?"
"What?"
"Constantly having people's lives in your hands?"
"Quite frankly, in the beginning, it used to scare the shit out of me. But you have to learn not to let it scare you; that's how come people die. Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"Doesn't being alone scare you? Having no one on the road, no one to come home to? I was alone before Adam came into my life. I guess I've just forgotten what it's like not to have anyone." Why am I asking him this?
"I don't like to think about it I just keep my mind on the job. What else can I do? Girls aren't interested in the real John Cena; they think I'm their Champ on and off the screen when in reality I'm not."
"I know that feeling; I see what it does to Adam. People are so negative about our relationship. When people ask who my husband is they turn their noses up and give me sly remarks. It hurts both of us. It hurts like hell."
"You had to sacrifice a lot to be with Adam."
"I'm on my own in Florida; I have no friends, no family. Beth and Jeff have been so hospitable and they're always a phone call away but it's not the same as having someone to talk face to face with." There's something safe about him and it doesn't seem alien to say this to him.
"I know this may sound strange, but if you ever need anyone to talk to I'm here."
I come to my senses. I look at him and see honesty; he's got to be fucking kidding me.
"You are aware that your best friends have declared war on my husband, aren't you?"
"They're immature brats, I'm not. Besides I'm a great guy really easy to talk to and everyone could use a friend."
He seems harmless enough; I've said that before and been burned though.
"You drive a hard bargain Mr Cena. A friend would be nice, I hate loading all my problems on Adam."
We shake hands and I can tell by the smile on his face he is relieved about something.
(JOHN POV)
My heart nearly escaped my chest when I sat next to her and I thought I'd died and gone to heaven when she agreed to be my friend. I watch her lie with her head against the window sleeping peacefully. There has to be something wrong with me; she haunts my dreams and my thoughts and I barely know her. I've met her twice for fuck's sake. The light brings out the soft freckles on her nose and under her eyes. I resist the temptation to lean over and stroke her cheek. She moves a little and rests her head on my shoulder; I feel my heart stop.
Her scent is captivating; so sweet. I pull her against my body gently trying not to wake her. Her skin is so soft, like a flower petal. Her breathing is steady and I feel her hand wrap around my waist. This is perfect; this feels so right.
"Oh sorry," she says pulling away.
"It's ok; I'm a lot more comfortable than the window," I say watching her smooth out her t-shirt.
"You got that right. I hope I wasn't too heavy."
I laugh, "Are you kidding, I lift three times what you weigh."
She blushes; her eyes twinkle when she blushes, it's so beautiful.
"What do you have planned for tonight?" she asks.
"I was just going to stay at home." Isn't it funny, having spent the last five years doing nearly the same thing I'm still ashamed of it.
"Would you like to have dinner with me?" I feel my heart leap.
"Would Adam mind?"
"Why would he? Adam trusts me and if he doesn't then he's a moron." I laugh at her sincerity. "If anything you'll be doing me a favour; I hate being in the house on my own all the time. And I always cook way too much food."
"I think you've convinced me."
I lean against the workbench watching Imogen stir the soup. I can't remember the last time I had a beautiful woman cook me soup. I can't remember the last time I had a beautiful woman cook me anything. She is like the hot version of Martha Stewart. I sip my beer as I stare at her perfect ass. She turns around and I quickly avert my eyes to her face.
"Dinner shouldn't be too long; maybe ten mintues," she says wiping her hands on her jeans. "Is the beer ok? I didn't know what kind you'd like and I don't really drink beer so I just got what I know Adam drinks."
"It's fine really." She is so unbelievably sweet. This evening has been amazing; I can feel myself falling hard and fast for her. I watch her take a drink of her wine, her luscious kissable lips pursed over the glass.
She turns back around to stir the soup a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks; she must have seen me staring at her lips. I come up behind her and take in the sweet aromas of her skin and hair.
"Soup smells good," I say weakly; being so close to her makes me feel faint. "Its pumpkin right?" I was far from interested in the damn soup; I want to touch her soft shoulders. I want to taste her skin, her lips; I want to run my hands through her hair.
"Yeah," Imogen says softly stirring the soup; I can see her hands shaking. "I need to call Adam quickly," she says turning around and slightly cowering under my frame. "Feel free to go wash before dinner." She ducks around me and I watch her flee the room.
You idiot, just scare the poor girl half to death why don't you? I go upstairs looking for the bathroom and come across the master bedroom. Curiosity has always been my weakness.
I look around making sure Imogen isn't around and go into the bedroom. On the bed I see an opened suitcase with her clothes. Looking in I see a selection of lingerie and some other articles of clothing. I pick up a red lace garter belt and smell a musky perfume. I lay the garter belt where it had been and go into the bathroom. I look through her perfume collection; Chanel No. 5, Dolce and Gabbana The One, Ralph Lauren Romance. One by one I memorise the aroma. I look through her makeup bag and pick out her lipstick. Brilliant by Chanel - it couldn't do her justice; although I'm sure it looks amazing on her lips.
I go back into the bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed. The image of her riding me drives me wild, the bulge in my pants becoming painfully noticeable. Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts. I go over to the dresser where photo frames decorate the top. Wedding photos, her and Adam with Jeff and Beth; honeymoon photos, photos with Adam's family. Her smile beams in every photo. I let my fingers caress her face in the photo of her and Jeff at a dinner party.
"Dinner's ready John." She's calling to me, not quite what I wanted to hear but it will do for now. Praying that it will hide my erection I pull my jersey down. Why did I have to come into this damn room?
I go back to the kitchen to see her slicing a loaf of bread. I take the bowls and spoons into the den as she follows me with the bread.
"Did you find the bathroom ok?" she asks as we sit on a leather couch facing the plasma.
"Eventually," I laugh, "sorry, I got distracted by the teddy bears in the guest room." She laughs; did I mention she has the most beautiful laugh. Thank god I watched that stupid Lifestyles of the Built and Dangerous episode with Edge.
We eat in silence; man the girl can cook.
"This is fantastic," I say putting my hand on her leg that's curled under her. "Who taught you to cook?"
"Jamie Oliver."
"You know Jamie Oliver?" Yeah I know – stupid question.
Imogen laughs heartily, "Yeah I wish. It's from one of his cook books." She looks thoughtfully around the room and then back at me. "Growing up my family had chefs and servants, when I was in college I was forced to fend for myself. I had to teach myself and his recipes are pretty easy to follow."
"Well you can cook for me anytime because this is the best damn dinner I've ever had, and that's the truth." I hope this night never ends.