Chapter 15

"You realize," He whispered, his already gravelly voice coming out even harsher from just waking up. "That they're going to be up your ass now, right, Kitten?"

"Even more so than they were before. I know, Daddy." Tressa whispered back, nudging him playfully and felt Jon press a kiss to the side of her neck. Turnabout. She leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment and let out a quiet yawn, glancing at the clock. Shit. They hadn't slept in those positions very well and they had a very, VERY long day ahead of them. "I'll order breakfast for everyone. Why don't you go get a shower before they get up?" She suggested, reaching up to lightly graze her fingertips over his beard while staring into his deep hazy blues.

For the briefest of moments, Jon thought about asking Tressa to join him. Reality kicked in, chances were the guys would wake up soon and he already knew if they even thought that something untoward was going on, they would ream his ass out for 'taking advantage' of Tressa. He didn't blame them, he might've been. Jon kissed the tip of her nose before rolling out of bed, reaching down to adjust his still lingering morning issues, and snorted when she began laughing softly at him.

"Laugh it up, Tres." He growled quietly, retrieving his bag before disappearing into the bathroom. Jon ran the cold water in the sink, splashing it over his face, and groaned, letting his head drop.

Joe and Colby really were going to be up her ass.

After breakfast was finished, Tressa sent Colby and Joe packing to get ready for the media tour. It would start at noon and go until the house show that night. Maybe an hour or so before it started. "For the FINAL time, Jon, I'll be fine by myself for the day." Jon had been bugging her for the past hour to come with him, but there was no point in doing it.

"I'm probably going to head to the arena and put in some extra hours on the projects I have going on. You don't need to worry about me so much."

Colby and Joe had been reluctant to leave, but they also had their own rooms and did have to get ready. She felt bad about them sleeping on the floor and against the wall, but then again, she'd been passed out from drinking and crying. At least she was cutting way back on the amount of Vodka she drank, so that was a plus.

"Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes, Mom." Jon singsonged cheekily, doing this a million times. He was pretty on the ball with traveling and packing, learning his lesson back in the Indies on not being prepared or paying attention to what he did and didn't have. "I'll get out of your hair, darlin'." He was a bit concerned that she was going to start reverting to what she had been like when he had first come back on the road, he didn't know why though. Maybe because she had opened up and then passed out from those shots, on top of being emotionally tired.

He was turning into a damn nursemaid.

"Hey," She stopped him from walking out the door by grabbing his arm, feeling his muscles twitch beneath her touch, and cracked a small smile up at him. "Believe it or not, I feel better after last night. And I appreciate your concern, I really do. I appreciate everything you've done for me, Jon. I know…this is your comeback and having me to deal with, on top of everything, doesn't help matters any…" Tressa made the mistake of lowering her eyes because the next second, her back was against the door and Jon's mouth was on hers hungrily.

Yeah, he was a bad man. Jon had figured after the tension and awkwardness from last night when he had kissed her between the semi-trailers, he would back the hell off and give her the space she obviously needed. At least on the intimate level, but then this morning she HAD to go and kiss him while she thought he was sleeping. Growling, Jon tore his lips from hers, breathing heavily, and smirked wickedly when he saw her swollen, parted lips and the roses in her cheeks.

"NOW I'll get out of your hair, kitten." Because there wasn't a doubt in his mind she wouldn't be thinking about that kiss all day.

All Tressa could do was watch him walk out the door and touched her swollen lips with her fingertips, her heart pounding in her chest. It was just a kiss…just a kiss full of fire that sent warmth coursing through her veins. It was definitely time for a shower as she walked into the bathroom, after wheeling out the tray with the empty plates on it, and started the water. The ache between her thighs pulsated and she groaned, needing some kind of relief. Jon was NOT making it easy for her to resist him…and, even after that talk with him last night in the car on the way here, she wondered if she could follow through what she said. Snaking her fingers down her stomach, she turned the water on warm and moaned, deciding to get herself off. Maybe it would take the ache away a little bit as her eyes closed, still feeling Jon's lips on hers.

Tressa, even as fragile mentally and emotionally as she was right now, couldn't say one thing and then the next day completely contradict herself. Jon did not possess THAT much self-restraint and control. He fully expected her to lay down the law to him, again, later in the evening. Now, Jon had to force all of that, her in particular, out of his mind as he focused on the media stuff, knowing he needed to keep his head in the now, and focus on this. Damn if his kitten wasn't a beautiful distraction, though. When all was said and done today, he had a feeling when he stopped for her nightly liquor, he was going to have to find himself a travel-sized bottle of baby oil and handle some personal business in the shower. Maybe he would get his own room, this way she couldn't hear him dealing with his issues and potentially growling her name.

Walking into the arena, a lot earlier than normal, Tressa went to her station to start getting to work. She groaned, receiving a message on her phone that Tabitha was throwing up and had been sent home for the duration of Summerslam weekend. Great. They were down one seamstress. Tressa was thankful she had come in early because A LOT had to be done before Sunday. Sighing, she reluctantly grabbed Andrew's trunks and began work on them. He would be by tonight to grab them and she had said she would have them done.

Turning on some music on the small portable radio she brought with her, Tressa enjoyed the tranquility and silence while starting up her machine. Tabitha had done a great job on the trunks and hopefully Andrew wouldn't mind two seamstresses working on his gear instead of one. It wouldn't take long to finish them up and then she would set them aside for him to retrieve. Then, she could continue on with the other projects for the women such as Sasha Banks and Bayley. Their costumes always took forever, at least a day or two, to complete.

"Fuck… fuck…"

Ow, Jon hated his life. He hated that crazy fan that had come running and leapt at him. Normally, he would have laughed it off, posed for some pictures and cracked jokes. Today he was suppressing a panic attack until he had some privacy. Infection, the fricking spot his shoulder had met cement wall was going to wind up infected and he was going to wind up dying from MRSA for real this time!

"Man, you got to work harder on getting fewer crazy fans," Colby laughed, reaching out to poke the bleeding scrape that partially showed from beneath Jon's tank top. "Or maybe wear bubble wrap."

Jon grimaced when his friend poked it again. He really was going to get infected! When had Colby last washed his hands?! Joe was at a separate signing, so it was just Jon and Colby together for the moment. Colby BLINKED when Jon rushed into the nearest bathroom and followed him, only to be shoved on his ass out the door with it locking. What the HELL? Colby frowned, wondering what had gotten into Jon, and shook his head, deciding to leave him be and headed off to the car. Hopefully, Jon didn't take too damn long because they had another venue to go to and then an interview at a radio station afterward.

Twenty minutes later, Jon finally showed up and ordered the driver to take them to the nearest CVS or Walgreens, making Seth stare at him like he'd lost his mind.

"We don't have time, man…"

"MAKE FUCKING TIME, THEN!"

The driver obeyed Jon's command and raced off to the nearest CVS or Walgreens, GPS was a godsend.

Colby couldn't believe how BADLY Jon was SHAKING, dark chocolate eyes wide.

Peroxide. Neosporin. Antibacterial bandages, the large ones, because he was a firm believer in overkill these days. Small half pint for nerves, definitely needed that. Fuck it, he just needed a new first aid kit, and maybe he'd hit up the trainers for antibiotics or something. Purell, he grabbed that as well. When he spotted Colby, he opened the small bottle and poured it all over his friend's hands.

Pretty sure Jon had lost his mind, Colby stood there in the center of the aisle rubbing that shit in, trying to ignore the sterile slightly alcohol-tinged smell that was now all over his palms. Jon paid for everything and disappeared into the bathroom, tending to his issues. Colby was right there, arms folded over his chest. His mouth nearly hit the floor when Jon slapped his arm with a grin and said, 'let's go man, while the day is young!' before bouncing off like he hadn't just been losing his mind.

"I can't believe Tabitha caught that stomach bug that's going around." Suzanne grunted, busying gluing sequins to the gear she was working on, shaking her head. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired." It was truthful enough.

At least she hadn't woken up with a hangover. Tressa decided she would be laying off the Vodka and getting something a little less…heavy on the system. Maybe wine or beer would be better than straight Vodka. The last thing she wanted to turn into was an alcoholic, which was starting to happen. She had to be careful and rubbed her eyes, glancing up at the clock. The Superstars were starting to trickle in one after the other for the house show, which meant media for Summerslam was done for the day. Stifling a yawn, she got back to work after stretching her arms in the air for a minute, deciding she would go out for a smoke break a little bit.

She didn't even get that far. "I need you to look at this." Unlike Colby, who was probably now off telling Joe about what he had witnessed earlier, Tressa knew about Jon's minor germaphobia/infection issues. He pulled her into his dressing room, ignoring the baffled look on Tressa's face and locked the door behind her. Then he peeled off his shirt and turned, rolling his eyes because it then occurred to him she was a foot shorter. Jon lowered himself to his knees and glanced back up at her over his shoulder.

"How's it look?" Because he was starting to feel like it was warm and puffy, but that was likely his mind messing with him.

Blinking, Tressa did not expect him to pull her into an empty dressing room like this on her way out to have a smoke. "It's just a cut, Jon. A scrape, it's not even a cut, actually." What the hell happened to him today? She went to lightly glide her fingers down the small injury and frowned when he stopped her, his hand wrapping around her wrist. "Jon…" God, he was a lot stronger than her and didn't know his own strength. "That…hurts…" He was trembling and she felt his hand release her wrist, thankful he didn't crack a bone in it or anything, taking a step back. This was just like the cut on his hand…this man was absolutely TERRIFIED of any kind of injury happening to him after what he'd gone through. "Jon, it's all right…there's no blood and it's not red or anything. It's just a scrape and you're fine…"

"What the hell am I going to do if I, no when I, finally take one in the ring?" He asked quietly, getting up onto his feet and walking over to his bag, pulling out a t-shirt. "I'm going to have a spaz attack," Because he wasn't going to acknowledge it as a panic attack right now. "Out in that ring." And Vince, Stephanie, and Paul would have his ass on the first jet to some therapist.

Social media would have a field day.

"You have to calm down, Jon." Tressa walked over to him, swallowing down her fear from him grabbing her wrist and slid her hands up and down his back. "Not every little cut and scrape is going to give you MRSA. What happened to you was terrible and I can't even begin to imagine what you went through. I know you nearly died from it, but…look at me." Reaching up, she turned his face until their eyes met, wanting him to hear these words. "You are healthy again. They got rid of it and it's not coming back. If you get a cut out there, the referees are right on it and you know that. They even carry gloves on them in case someone bleeds accidentally." There was no blood allowed in the WWE anymore, not unless it was accidental. "Now take a deep breath, in through the nose and out the mouth, and close your eyes if you have to." Her hand rested over his pounding heart, hating how scared he actually was of a simple cut and scrape.

None of that mattered because Jon had gotten MRSA at a freaking hospital. He had been in the place people went to be CURED and he had nearly died from it! He just nodded, staring down into her face, feeling her hands coming up to caress either side of his face soothingly. It took him a moment to realize she was…apprehensive, his brows drawing together.

"How bad did I hurt you, Tres?" He asked, knowing he'd grabbed her wrist. Jon hadn't thought it was hard, but…he hadn't been in his head at the time either.

"You didn't hurt me. It was tight, but you didn't hurt me to the point of breaking anything." Tressa assured him gently, shivering slightly when he turned his head to brush his lips against the wrist he had clutched.

It made her smile. This was the same man who used to bleed BUCKETS full in death matches in the Indies and ENJOYED it. This was the same man who was in a barbed wire deathmatch against Drake Younger, who was now a referee for WWE in the NXT brand, and loved every bit of the pain he both felt and inflicted. To see Jon THIS freaked out over a cut and a scrape…Tressa wondered if maybe he shouldn't talk to someone since she knew WWE had on-road therapists.

"Are you all right now?"

"I'm calming down." He knew he was going to have to start minding himself when around her and also in the middle of an infection spaz attack. Bringing her hands up, he began kissing her wrists, sighing. "I'm sorry, darlin'." Jon let go and stepped away from her, running a hand over his head. "Let's go smoke." He needed one, he bet she did too.

Hell, it looked like she had been on her way out the door before he snatched her up.