Chapter 37: Distractions

"Well, at least we're finally on the road," I say in sweet relief as Randy drives our rental out of the lot and onto the street. "It takes a good five hours to get to the next city, and it's already 10:15 right now. . ."

"So, if we stay on the road and keep our lunch break to a minimum, we should get to the arena right before four. . ." says the Viper as a thoughtful look comes across his face, his right hand on the steering wheel while he kept his left hand by his windowsill. "That should be right, right? Math wasn't really my strong suit in school."

"Why am I not surprised . . ?" I say with a playful grin, completely ignoring the mean look Randy was suddenly sending me. "Let's see: it is 10:15 right now, and we have a good five hours of travel to get through. At minimum, we can spend a half hour on lunch. So, adding five and a half hours to 10:15 . . . ideally, we should be arriving at the arena by around 3:45."

"Huh, that only gives us 15 minutes to spare," Randy grumbles as he stops us at a red light. "Hmm . . . Looks like we'll have to wait till after SmackDown to check in to a hotel."

"I'm sure whatever Hunter has to say to you and all the other wrestlers scheduled for today's edition of SmackDown won't take that long. He'll probably take an hour, tops," I say with a shrug. "That should give us a good two hours to check into a hotel and then return by seven for the show."

"Hmm . . . you make a good point there . . ." Randy says in defeat, his eyes looking far away as the light blinks green. I have a pretty good feeling that his thoughts are starting to go back to the photo our bus driver sent him earlier, which isn't good for someone with a volatile mood such as his.

So, I figure to keep his thoughts away from Cameron, it's for the best if I distract him for a little bit, which brings my attention to the SUV's stereo system.

"What are you doing Mara?" I hear Randy suddenly ask me as I begin sifting through the music channels.

"I'm looking for any station that plays either rock or alternative music. I know those two are your favorite music genres," I tell him simply as I click past the country music channel. "If we're going to have a pretty decent road trip, we need to listen to some pretty decent music."

"I can't argue with you when you make such great sense," he tells me, his eyes looking grateful that I was giving him this distraction. "It'll help me keep my mind off things."

"Yeah it should," I say confidently. "I saw that look you had in your eyes just now. I didn't like that look."

"So, you're going to use music to keep the look you don't like off my face . . ." he says with an amused smirk. I just shake my head yes. "Hmm, I'm grateful . . . Wait! Don't change this channel Mara. I actually like this song."

The song he was talking about was "The Pretender" by the Foo Fighters. I managed to reach the channel just as the first chords began to play, and as soon as Dave Grohl began singing the first words of the song, Randy matched him word for word, singing along for the entire first verse. I joined in during the first chorus, and soon enough we were both singing along to the tune.

It was the first of the many rock songs that we ended up singing together. We went through a whole list of rock artists, but we sang our hardest whenever a Metallica song came through the airwaves. Randy sang himself almost breathless when his favorite song came on, and I had to really stop myself from laughing when he almost started turning blue with a grin on his face.

"Okay, next time your favorite Metallica song comes on, I am going to definitely remind you to breathe," I say with a grin as we pull into a service station. "If that song was just a little bit longer, you would have turned yourself into a tall Smurf my friend."

"I'm glad my jam wasn't a little longer. I don't do the whole Smurf look, not with all these tattoos of mine," says the Viper as he pulls us into the nearest space we spot, which also happens to be one of the furthest from the station. "Besides, I don't think Tattoo Smurf would be such a lovable character on children's programming."

"It would be different though . . ." I say with a grin as we exit the car. "So, are we going to eat on the road, or are we going to eat here?"

"We might as well eat here . . . You know how some rental people get when you get their cars all dirty . . ." Randy grumbles as he sets the alarm. I let out a soft chuckle as I grab his outstretched hand. He leads me down the lot and into the service station, our eyes going straight to the board that showcased the service map. "So, you want a pizza?"

"I'm game for pizza. I'm just wondering if you should be eating a pizza when you're going to be on camera in a matter of hours," I say with a grin as he starts leading me over to the pizzeria. "Pizza can be such a fattening food, and you know what they say about TVs and cameras. They add 10 pounds to your figure whether you like it or not. There's no need to pack on the extra weight if you don't have to."

"Well, I guess my abs won't be looking too appealing today then, because I seriously want a pizza." he tells me as he tugs me into the shop.

We had gotten looks from people as soon as we got out of the car, but people didn't start crowding over Randy until we had entered the shop. Apparently, half of the patrons in the pizzeria were WWE fans, and a number of them were particularly fans of the Viper. So while he was giving autographs and taking photos with the people, I ended up ordering for our meal. Once I paid for two supreme pizza slices and two drinks, I made my way over to the pickup window, giving myself a better view of the Viper among his fans. A sizable number of the fans were female, and a couple of them were looking at my man with flirtatious eyes. Randy noticed these looks, but instead of smirking, he was looking distracted and uncomfortable.

I repeat: The Viper was looking distracted and uncomfortable . . .

. . . And I was doing a little happy dance in my head.

"Two supreme pizza slices and two drinks?"

"That's my order!" I say with a grin as I turn around to face the worker that was holding my tray. I leave a tip in the tip jar before I take my order from his arms. I make my way over to the empty table on the far side of the room. Randy soon joins me, sitting across from me just as I was about to take my first bite of pizza. "I see you were a little busy getting caught up in work-related activities. You even looked a little uncomfortable out there."

"Well, I was. I bet you saw how obvious some of the girls were fawning over me back there," Randy grumbles as he starts to pick the mushrooms off his plate. Mushrooms just weren't his thing, but they were mine, so I grabbed the discarded mushrooms and placed them on my pizza instead. "It was just wrong. It was wrong to you, so of course I declined them every single time they tried to ask me a pervasive or suggestive question."

"Aww . . . You are such a good boyfriend. You deserve a kiss," I say as I leaned over the table. Randy meets me halfway, and as soon as our lips touched, I think I heard some of Randy's fans moan in disappointment. "Okay, let's eat. The sooner we eat, the sooner we can leave and get away from all the distractions."

"You think my fangirls are a distraction?" the Viper asks, the tip of his pizza halfway into his mouth.

"A little . . . I'll be honest. I was doing a little happy dance in my head because I saw that you weren't reacting to your flirtatious fangirls like you usually would. That shows change, my tattoo sleeve wearing boyfriend . . ." I say with a grin before stuffing my mouth with a large chunk of pizza.

"Well, it's nice to know that you acknowledge me as your boyfriend, and that you approved of my behavior just now," he tells me with a chuckle. "Oh, and be careful how you eat your pizza. One bad mistake and I'll have a photo of your greasy face all over social media in matter of minutes."

"You are an evil bastard sometimes, you know that right?" I grumble through my mouthful of pizza as I notice him starting to reach into his pocket. "Don't you even dare!"

"I'm just warning you now . . ." he tells me with a grin before digging into his meal.

Sometimes, I just want to smack the grin off his face.

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