Ch 11
"Oh my God, so he just showed up at your door last night?" Nikki glanced over at Peyton, mouth agape.
"Yep." Peyton jogged alongside the Bella twin. "What am I going to do, Nik? How can I figure out what I want when I have no clue?"
"Pie chart? Kidding."
"Jon is just so, I don't know, different. Easy."
Nikki snorted, biting back a laugh, "So I've heard."
"I didn't mean it that way. I meant, easy…easy to be around. No pressure to be anything other than me and no strings. Incredible sex with a gorgeous man who I can completely relax around with no judgements. He's been where I've been. He gets me. He doesn't push me to answer questions I don't want to or grill me if I change the subject."
"And Randy?"
Peyton groaned, looking over at Nikki who shrugged and smiled, "Sorry, devil's advocate and all. And, I am Team Randy."
"Randy doesn't let me get complacent. He expects more, pushes me. And, he's seen me at my worst and still keeps coming around. That says a lot."
"Ok, let me ask you this, when something good happens and you just can't wait to tell someone…which would it be?"
"Jon."
"And when you've had a horrible day and just want to cry, scream, break something…which one do you think about calling?"
Peyton sighed, "Randy."
"So, tie score. Sex tie breaker?"
"Wouldn't work…you've seen both of them, right? Don't get me wrong, I'm all for a sex tie breaker, but it'd just confuse me more."
Nikki nodded, "Celibacy? Swear off men in general?"
"Not happening."
"Forget them both and go get with someone else? Look where we work, there's plenty of hot guys who are always looking for a warm place to stick it."
"Not helping, Nik."
…
Peyton sat at a table in catering at the arena. "You seem distracted. Everything ok?" Jon leaned over, nudging her.
"Yeah." She smiled over at him weakly.
"Who's Sean?"
"What?" Peyton's head snapped up.
"Sean," he pointed to her phone on the table. "Been blowing your phone up."
"No one important." She grabbed her phone off the table and stuffed it in her back pocket.
"Want to go for a walk?"
Peyton nodded, standing and following behind Jon. "Where are we going?"
He shrugged, "Just walking."
She let him lead her around, weaving in and out of different corridors, "Sleep ok last night?" He stopped, pulling her around another corner. Peyton shrugged. "I've slept better."
"I heard you had a late night visitor. Joe saw him leaving."
"Oh. He just wanted to talk. That's it."
Jon smiled, "It's ok. You can do whatever, or whoever you want. I was wondering how long it would take him to make his move. But, if he thinks I'm stepping to the side just because he's decided to man up and because y'all use to have something, he's dead wrong."
Peyton watched as Jon stepped closer, his hand sliding along her hip and around to the small of her back. "I can't tell you to stay away from him. I can't get mad if you two take a walk down memory lane, but I can tell you I don't want you to." He leaned down, kissing her cheek, "I'm not saying this is more than what it is, but I'm saying," he moved down, kissing her neck, "just give it time, let's figure out what it is. I'm not going anywhere. If he's not willing to give you the time to really figure out what you want then he's a fucking idiot. I'd rather give you a chance to figure it out and have you to myself knowing it's absolutely where you want to be, then have you and not know if it's really what you wanted…even if that means slowing down a little."
Peyton stared, green eyes wide with shock at his words.
"Everyone assumes I'm a serial manwhore, and I won't completely deny that, but I've had relationships and I'm actually decent at them. I'm not going to make this easy for him. He had his chance. I'm not saying we, this," he waved a finger between them, "will be all sunshine and daisies. I'm moody and I can be a total dick sometimes. And, I promise you, I will fuck up. I will do stupid shit. I will piss you off. But I also promise," Jon smiled, brushing his hair out of his face, "I'll feel really bad about it when I do. I know you'll fuck up and piss me off too. But, at the end of the day, we get each other and that's really all you can ask for. To be with someone who gets you and understands why you are the way you are, right? You get me, not Moxley, not Ambrose, me."
Peyton nodded, "I guess, it's probably a good thing I'm a very forgiving person."
"You're a fucking liar too." Jon laughed, lightening the mood, "I know broads and your species is not forgiving. That's why men are so good at make up sex."
They turned, walking back in the direction of catering, "You want to grab something to eat after the show?"
"Pizza. Definitely pizza."
"Cheat day?"
"That's cute, Jon. Really. Cheat day. As if I only have one of those a week or something. Every day is a cheat day."
"I am pretty fucking cute." He draped his arm across her shoulders.
"Absolutely adorbs."
"You have to stop spending so much time with Joe."
Randy was walking from the trainer's office to the locker room when he heard Peyton's laughter behind him. There she was, ducking behind Joe, Jon reaching around the big Samoan trying to grab at her. "Joe! Make him stop!" He watched as Joe smiled and stepped out from between them, reminding Peyton of the "bros over hoes" code. She kicked a leg out at Joe's retreating backside before being grabbed up by Jon, both laughing. Randy had to admit, seeing her smile, hearing her laugh, even because of another man, was a good thing. Before she left he'd go weeks without seeing her smile, let alone laugh. It was nice to see her happy, and he knew if Jon was half the man he assumed he was he wasn't going to just walk away when he got a little competition. Randy knew as soon as he bumped in to Joe in the hallway that morning that he'd tell Jon. He had to admit; he half expected Jon to get all possessive and threaten to kick his ass. Randy could handle the competition. He knew how to make her laugh and he'd made her happy once before, he'd just have to remind her. He turned and started back to the locker room after he saw Jon lick Peyton's cheek. What is with that kid and licking? It can't be hygienic.
Peyton pulled the car into the garage at the hotel, both occupants full, and carrying leftovers.
"That place was amazing. How did you find it?"
"I live here…well, not here, but a few miles away. This is where I grew up."
"You're shitting me? I assumed you were from Philly, not Jackson, Mississippi."
"Common misconception. Paul E decided no one would be in to a chick from Mississippi. Philly fit the gimmick better. I'm actually from Tunica. The Philly billing just kind of stuck, but I do have an apartment there and spend more time there than here." Peyton sighed dramatically, "Now, you know my deep dark secret."
"Yep, your secret is safe with me. Wanna know my dirty little secret?"
"Well yeah, I mean, it's only fair."
He leaned down, looking around to be sure no one could here and whispered loudly, "I'm not wearing any underwear."
Peyton shoved at his chest playfully, "You are such a perv. Hey, wanna grab a drink then head up?" Peyton tilted her head towards the lounge.
"Aw darlin', you don't have to get me liquored up to take advantage of me. But, that not wearing underwear bit…got to you didn't it?"
Jon leaned against the bar, taking a drink from his bottle. He smiled, watching Peyton talking with Aksana. Glancing down the bar towards Randy, he straightened immediately.
Randy's head snapped in Jon's direction. He pointed at Peyton, "Get her. Now." Jon turned back to Peyton and saw her pinned against the wall. A man, about 6'2" stood over her, hands on her shoulders, pissed.
Peyton looked around, frantic. She saw Jon rush past Randy, shoving the man who had her in his grip. Jon's jaw clenched, his fists balled at his sides, shoulders tensed. Peyton was vaguely aware of Colby at her side, pushing her and Aksana behind him. Jon knelt over the man, fist drawn back when Randy grabbed his arm. "Get her out of here." He looked over at Colby then. "Don't leave her alone. I'll take care of this." Peyton reached out, grabbing at Jon's arm. "C'mon." He stared at her, anger flooding his eyes then turned to the man who was slowly getting to his feet. "Jon, please." Jon turned, grabbing Peyton's hand and pulling her out of the lounge, Colby and Aksana following behind.
"What…who was that?" Jon's voice was low, angry.
"Sean." Peyton sat on the bed in Jon's room, looking at the floor.
"No one important, huh?" He snapped.
"He's not. He is…was," she stressed the word, "my dealer."
"WHAT!?" Colby blurted out. Peyton and Jon both turned to him, staring at his sudden outburst. "Sorry. C'mon, I'll walk you back to your room." He ushered Aksana out and closed the door behind them.
"Why is he here?" Jon stood in front of her, pacing, running his hands through his hair.
"I really have no idea. I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing? That mother fucker has no business being near you. I wish I could've got my hands on him. What kind of prick puts his hands on a female?"
Peyton reached out, grabbing at Jon's jacket. "He's not worth it. Damn sure not worth risking your job over. You've worked too hard."
"No, he's not. You are." He blinked, and looked down, seemingly slightly confused at his own words.
"No one is worth your job."
The door shook, a loud banging coming from the other side. Jon walked over, swinging the door open and stepping back when Randy came in to the room.
"What the fuck was that, Peyton? What was he doing here?"
Peyton looked at the two men, "I relapsed. Once." She hurried on, cutting Randy off. "My past is no secret and it was the same in TNA. Everyone knew about me before I even got there. I hadn't been there a week before people were asking if I had any good connections. I connected a lot of people with Sean. One night, after an especially shitty week, several of us were hanging out and Sean busted out the coke. It was just the wrong night…or right night depending on how you look at it. A week later TNA let me go. A month later I was back here."
"How stupid could you be? How fucking careless can you get, Peyton!? I thought you'd fucking changed. You're suppose to be so strong, that was fucking weak, Peyton. Weak." Randy bellowed at Peyton.
"Back off." Jon stepped forward, hearing enough. "You've never been an addict so there's no way you could ever understand it. That pull is always there. She relapsed once in five years. Yeah, that sucks, but it fucking happens, man. She's a lot stronger than you give her credit for. Probably even than she gives herself credit for. It takes balls to quit. Each fucking day is a struggle. I've been clean for a long time now, but I can still taste it, still feel that tingling in my arms that I use to get when I knew I was about to get high. Don't talk about shit that you have no clue about." Jon opened the door, pointing at Randy, "And don't ever talk to her like that again. Thanks for your help tonight, but now, you need to go."
Jon closed the door behind Randy and turned back to Peyton who was sitting back on the bed, tears rolling down her cheeks, "Second time I've cried in the past few days. I don't fucking cry." Jon slid on to the bed, pulling Peyton back against him. "You wanna hear the really fucked up thing? Sean was Randy's pot dealer…that's how I met Sean."
The two sat in silence, Jon's hand rubbing Peyton's arm. Peyton yawned against his chest, one leg thrown over his, fingers tracing circles on his shirt. "Hey Jon."
"Hmm?"
"Thanks." She raised up, kissing his jaw.
"You don't have to thank me. I didn't really do anything."
Jon's hands slid to her thighs, gripping at them when she moved, sitting across his waist. Peyton felt him tense briefly, then relax, his hands kneading at the flesh of her legs. She moved her hands up his chest, grabbing his face, deepening the kiss. His tongue flicked at hers. Peyton slid one hand back, digging in to his hair, pulling his mouth closer. Hungry. Jon grabbed her legs, flipping them and settling himself between her thighs. Peyton pulled on his bottom lip, with her teeth, sucking then dove back in to the kiss, clutching and pulling at him with both hands. Jon shifted slightly, running one hand along the inside of her leg, fingers skimming over the tattoo there. "You can quit wishing. I'm here."
In seconds, their clothes were strewn across the room, and he was inside her. His very movements a contradiction, the retraction was slow, deliberate. His thrusts forward, hard and powerful. Peyton stretched her arms out, digging her fingers into the comforter beneath them. He came hard, panting out her name when her back arched off the bed, her hands flying to his back, marking him. Peyton couldn't stop his name from rolling out of her mouth, over and over. They both collapsed on to the bed, spent and satisfied. "Get some sleep." Jon tucked his arm around her and kissed her shoulder, letting Peyton drift to sleep.
A/N: Thanks again for all the favorites, follows, reviews and feedback.
