Stripped

A/N: Could it be? A double update? Say it ain't so! What can I say? I'm so close to the end of this story and I just can't seem to stay away from John and Olivia. This chapter and the next were supposed to go together, but I felt like they should each stand on their own. Hope you don't mind this story being one chapter longer than was originally promised! I disclaim, and I hope you Enjoy!

Olivia sat on the bed in her hotel room, staring at the WWE Championship belt on her lap. Occasionally, she would smile as she thought about John's ring entrance.

The crowd always cheers so loud for him, she grinned, imagining the roar of the fans when her man walked through the curtain and spun that "W" just for them. Her fingers twirled it numbly. They really love him. She gave an involuntary chuckle of resignation. Everyone loves him.

She stopped as the next words flitted through her mind. I love him. It had only been three months, and she wasn't sure the love she felt was one hundred percent romantic yet. But she knew that he wasn't just her friend. And she knew that walking away from him would be harder than anyone else she had ever met, almost as hard as it had been to leave Brandon.

She watched the belt slow to a stop and noticed that her hands were trembling. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn't going to ask her not to go. He wouldn't scoff at her decision, or even ask her for an explanation. He would nod his head, say that he was behind her whatever she decided, and then hug her and tell her that she had made the right choice.

But it would be in his voice, and in his eyes. His shoulders would sag a little. The disappointment would be evident, even though he would try to hide it. He would put on the brave face, but Olivia could already see those sad baby blues in her mind's eye, and it was tearing her apart.

"DUDE, I'M NOT EVEN PLAYIN'!" John warned, laughing as he pushed the door open. The faint traces of Randy's comeback were heard as he slammed the door shut and turned, only to find a distraught-looking Olivia on the bed.

She was beautiful, even looking broken in the middle of the matress, and he found that she had, once again, taken away his ability to form a coherent thought. "You have any idea how amazing you are?" he asked without thinking.

She looked up and sniffled, wiping tears from her cheek with one hand and then pushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear. Turning her red-rimmed eyes to him, she sniffled again. "Oh yeah. I'm all kinds of amazing right now," she rolled her eyes and laid his belt to the side as he climbed onto the bed with her. "Amazingly weak."

He brushed her hair off her shoulder with one hand and then rested it on her bare skin, gently rubbing the strap of her tank top. "Hey now," he smiled when she met his eyes again. "What seems to be the trouble here?"

As he studied her expression, Olivia found herself losing every shred of control she thought she had been holding on to since leaving Vince's office. He was disarming her, preparing her for another heart-to-heart, and she wasn't sure she could handle the emotion. "John," she started, looking away. Where was that strong woman now? The one who had shown Vince no fear? Why was she hiding all of the sudden?

With a hand under her chin, he drew her gaze to his one once more. "Woman, look at me," he smiled. Olivia returned the grin. She was leaving him, and he knew it. Maybe she thought he had forgotten what today was, but he hadn't. It had been on the Palm Pilot in his mind for weeks now, and he had fought like hell not to ask her a million times what she was planning to do.

But now that he felt her body shaking in his arms, he knew that she had made her decision. She was going back. She was struggling with the best way to tell him good-bye, and he had no choice but to let her go. It didn't have to be drawn out and dramatic for either of them. "This is how it should be," he whispered.

Shaking her head, Olivia pushed away from him and stood, holding out a hand. "I thought so, too," she sighed and threw her arms up in the air. "Until I looked at you." She wiped another round of tears and moved to the foot of the bed, one hand in her hair, and the other one her waist. "God, I'm gonna miss you."

His heart broke in that instant. She was always doing that to him, unintentionally cracking away at little pieces of his heart, chipping away at a wall he didn't even realize he had built around his emotions. But telling her that wasn't going to help the situation. And she didn't need for him to make this harder.

"You and Brandon need each other, Liv. You're doin' the right thing," he assured her, scooting back on the bed. He rested his head against the wall and stared at the ceiling. A few weeks earlier, he had sworn he wasn't going to let her go, that he couldn't just watch her go back to that life. Now he was surrendering, and even he wasn't sure why.

She leaned against the dresser and ran her hands over her face. Giving him a weak smile, she shook her head and fought another round of tears. "It's gonna be so hard to wake up and not feel your lips on my shoulder."

John nodded and watched her take another series of short breaths. There was something, just under the surface, that was screaming at him for attention. "What are you gonna do?" he asked, as though the words were coming from somewhere else.

She wanted to ask what he meant, but the expression in his crystal gaze said even he wasn't sure. "I talked to Melinda after my meeting with Vince, and she's going to cut the check in the morning. I'll be back on stage at Pandora's Saturday night," she mumbled, walking back to the edge of the bed and sitting, her back to him.

He had been all for letting her make her own decisions. For the duration of their relationship, he had been nothing but supportive of her choices, whether he agreed with them or not. But something bubbled up inside of him at her proclamation, something he could no longer ignore. "I don't want you to," he said simply.

She cast a glance over her shoulder. "You huh?" she asked.

John watched as she stood again, her hands shoved deep in her pockets as she waited for his explanation. "I don't want you to dance again. You've taken ten steps forward, and the minute you get on that stage, you're slidin' twenty steps back. I don't wanna see that happen." He shook his head sadly and watched her reaction, but he made no attempt to move. "Not to you, baby."

She wanted to kick and scream and tell him that he couldn't tell her what to do. But the truth was, she didn't want to see it happen either. "What am I supposed to do, John?" she asked. "I make enough at Pandora's to go back to school. Melinda will work around my schedule – she'll be totally open to me finishing up my high school diploma and then working toward a degree. By the time my contract expires there, in a couple years, I'll be well on my way to being the woman I wanna be," she smiled, as though she had worked it all out.

But there was a sadness beyond the smiles. And, as much as he wished they were, John knew the tears building there weren't over the end of their relationship. She was masking the expression of a woman filled with terrifying doubt. The life she was talking about embarking upon was new – it was filled with all kinds of challenges, and it wouldn't be easy. If she was back in Atlanta, at least she had the easy to fall back on.

"I'm not lettin' you quit," he stated firmly, shrugging his shoulders a little bit.

She rolled her eyes. "Are you not listening to me?" She had just told him her plan, that she was only stripping until she could move on to something better. Why was he looking at her like she had just suggested they join a cult, move to Madagascar, and spend the rest of their lives in burlap and ashes?

"I'm listening. To what you're not saying," John corrected her. "And I'm proposing a deal of my own," he shrugged, scooting to the edge of the bed. Leaning forward, he studied his folded hands for a moment and then looked up at her. "What if I bought out your contract?"

She laughed and shook her head. "You're crazy," she rolled her eyes and placed a hand on his cheek. "Sweet, but crazy."

He wasn't kidding. And the moment he pulled her into his lap and held the back of her head with his firm hand, she knew it. "I mean it. I'm not offering as your boyfriend, or as your friend, even. I'm offering as someone who sees far too much potential in you. I'm offering as a man who sees someone capable of doing amazing things in this world someday."

"John," Olivia started, placing her thin fingers over his lips. "It's a sweet offer. And don't think I don't appreciate it, but," she started.

He kissed her fingers and then wrapped his around it, lowering their joined hands to her lap. "I would do anything to keep you with me, Olivia. To know that you're my girl, even if you're not traveling with me and sleeping in my bed all the time. I don't want you to go," he admitted.

She tried to stand again, but he pulled her back into his lap. "Baby, I can't," she started to explain that she couldn't be contracted to him – that he couldn't buy her heart like that.

"I'm not asking you to," he cut her off. Letting go of her hands, he leaned back and allowed her stand. "I'm only asking you for one thing, Olivia. I want you to do what you want to do, for once in your life. I want you to figure out what makes you happy, and I want you to do only that, for the rest of your life.

"The woman who walked into my life three months ago was pretty. She was sexy as hell, and she took away my ability to form actual words," he grinned and reached forward, tugging gently on her hand. When her fingers wrapped around his, he shook his head. "But the woman you are now is beyond beautiful. You set my body on fire, and you electrify me. You take my fuckin' breath away." She looked at the floor and blushed as John stood and pushed her hair behind her ear. "I love you."

As she stared into his eyes, studying their depths, she believed it. For the first time in her life, she believed that someone loved her – someone under no obligation to do so. With a hand on his cheek, she felt sobs bubbling up within her gut. "I wanna be with you," she whispered, resting her head against his.

John felt as though everything in his chest began to pull apart. There was an agonizing ache there as he shook his head and kissed her hard. They both knew that she needed some time. She needed space to adapt to this new life she would be embarking upon. It wasn't about what either of them wanted, but about what she needed.

For the first time in his life, he felt completely selfless. He knew he was doing the right thing. And he hated himself for it. Pulling back from the kiss, he watched her carefully. Her green eyes opened slowly, her lips swollen and her chest heaving from the intensity of their embrace. "The last thing I want is to let you walk away," he sighed.

She nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist. Burying her face in his neck, she gripped his waist. "Thank you," she whispered against his skin.

He trailed his fingers down her back and allowed himself to think, if only for a moment, that this was the last time he would touch her. At least for awhile. "You're welcome," he answered, not entirely sure of why she was thanking him in the first place. But he was fairly certain it was for more than the contract.

They merely clung to one another, no sound between them outside of sniffles and ragged breathing. And then Olivia pulled back and grinned wickedly. Pushing him back on the bed, she moved toward the clock radio on the bedside table. She moved the dial until a sultry song filled the air.

"If you're buying my contract, John," she narrowed her eyes and began to sway her hips, "I think it's only fair if you're my last audience."