Chapter Eighty-Seven: Jessica's P.O.V.

The walk back to the locker room was a silent, but proud one. Dave's arm was wrapped around my waist as we entered the room.

"Look what the cat drug in," Dave smiled as he saw John and Trish sitting comfortably on the sofa across from Randy and Stacy.

John just smirked and pulled Trish closer.

"I take it you had your run-in with Paul," Randy spoke up.

"Yeah, how'd you figure that one out?" I replied.

"Because it looks like Dave's going to be sporting a nice bruise on the side of his face. Not to mention, both of you are smiling like crazy."

"Yeah, I got to give him credit. He does have one hell of a right hook," Dave said, his hand reaching the area that was beginning to bruise. "But it was all worth it."

"Don't leave us all in the dark, big man," John finally spoke. "Tell us what went down."

"Well, while you guys have story time," Trish began. "I'm going to steal your girlfriends."

"As long as you return them by the time we head back to the hotel," Randy winked to Stacy, who just smiled before playfully punching him in the arm.

I rolled my eyes as we walked out of the room and down to catering. "So, Trish," I said, sitting down at a table. "You going to give us the dirt on your date last night?"

"Maybe," she grinned before receiving pleading glances from Stacy and me. "Okay. I went down to the lobby at 11:30 just like you told me to. Needless to say, I was incredibly surprised to see that my date was John. And I don't really think that he was expecting to see me either."

"Yeah, yeah, you were surprised, get on with the good stuff," Stacy interrupted. "Where'd you go?"

"He took me to a bowling alley," Trish smiled, brightly. "And I'm almost 100 percent sure that he let me win all three games. By the time we were done there, it was around 12:30 and he took me to a small, secluded, all-night diner. And we just talked."

"Talked? That's it?" Stacy questioned, expecting more.

"Give her a break, Stace," I cut in. "It's good they got to know each other first."

"Anyway," Trish continued. "After we got done there, he brought me back to the hotel, invited me to breakfast this morning and gave me a kiss goodnight," she finished, dreamily.

"Aww, that's so sweet," I gushed. "It reminds me of my and Dave's first date."

"Speaking of you and Dave, how about you tell us what went down with Trips?" Trish suggested.

I relayed the story to Trish and Stacy before they both burst into laughter at the end.

"I bet he'll be feeling that one for a month at least," Stacy commented, between giggles.

"I don't know if I kicked him THAT hard," I replied. "One thing's for sure, though, I don't think Paul Levesque will be bothering us anytime soon."

New Year's Eve

Nearly a month later, I sat in the living room of Dave's house while he was in his office talking on the phone, something that he had been doing a lot of lately.

I flipped through the channels on the TV, not really paying attention to what was on or whether or not I really wanted to watch any of it. Something was up with Dave. Over the last week or so, he had come accustomed to staring quietly into space, as though in deep thought. And, truthfully, it was bugging the hell out of me. The sound of my cell phone ringing brought me out of my thoughts. I reached over and read the Caller ID: John.

I smiled and answered it. "Hello?"

"Hey, J. Listen, Trish and I have some bad news," he began. "We're not going to be able to make it to that party tonight."

"Why not?" I asked, disappointed.

"Our plane was delayed. There's been some really bad snowstorms up here in Boston and it doesn't look like it's about to let up."

"That sucks. Randy and Stacy couldn't make it either," I told him.

"What about Copeland?"

"Dave's on the phone with him now, but I doubt he'll be able to make it either. He seems like he's always busy nowadays. He couldn't even make it to our Christmas party that we had. I just want to know what's so important between him and Dave that they have to talk to each other every damn day."

"I don't, J," John replied, but I could hear the smile in his voice.

"You know, don't you?"

"Not a clue."

"John Felix Anthony Cena, you better tell me now!" I threatened.

"J? You still there? I think you're dropping out. I'll call you later, okay?" he said and hung up.

This was getting more and more interesting by the second. So, if John knew what was going on, chances are Randy and Adam did, too. That must be why Dave was always on the phone, talking over whatever was on his mind to them. But why would he tell them and not me? This was getting really frustrating. I had to find out what was going on.