A/N: Those of you who read my other stories have probably noticed that I've been updating lately. Hopefully the trend will continue, and hopefully you'll enjoy this story as well. Remember, reviews make the pen write faster! P
Chapter 3
The thought of sleeping on a soft, warm mattress propelled John up the stairs of the hotel. His feet drug through the hallway as he trudged toward his room. Exhaustion was an understatement. It had been an exceptionally long day. Radio interview at 7:00. Raw magazine photoshoot at 8:30. Two seperate autograph signings. A house show. Newspaper interviews.
And at 6:00AM tomorrow, it started all over again.
When he finally reached his hotel room, he pushed through the door, yawning loudly. A small smile touched his lips as he noticed Trish, sprawled out on the bed. She returned his smile, rising from her position.
"Hey stranger," she said, patting the empty space beside her.
John gladly collapsed next to her, his head sinking into the pillow. He lifted his head and leaned over to press a full kiss to her lips. Trish hovered over him, tracing a finger across the dark circles under his eye.
"You look tired, baby," she murmured, her hand moving up to run through his hair.
John nodded pitifully, "And sore." His eyes drifted closed, and he relished in the feeling of sleep approaching him.
"Don't you pass out on me," Trish said, shaking him lightly. "I haven't seen you all day." He groaned, brushing her hand off. "Come on... let me make you feel better..."
The seductive tone in her voice drew John's eyes open. He eyed her weakly. When he opened his mouth to protest, she cut him off. Moving on top of him, Trish kissed him hungrily. His body responded instantly. His muscles stiffened, his fingers tangled in her hair, his tongue jutted out to meet hers.
His mind was not as quick to react. His brain screamed at him, desperate for sleep.
"Trish," he mumbled into her lips. "Trish, come on. I'm fuckin' exhausted. I need sleep."
Trish giggled, pressing her lips to his again. "You'll sleep..." she assured him between kisses. "...as soon as I'm done with you."
John sighed, allowing their kiss to deepen again. When Trish rolled to her back and pulled him on top of her, he broke away.
"Seriously babe, not now," he begged her, his body falling limp on hers.
Trish frowned, pushing him off of her. It was so unlike him to shrug her off like that, no matter how tired he was. Confused and concerned, her eyebrow raised.
"You okay?" she asked, resting on her elbow.
He nodded, his eyes closing again, "Just tired. Sore. Wanna go to bed."
With a soft sigh, she complied. Resting back onto her own pillow, Trish stared up at the ceiling. It wasn't such a big deal, she supposed. After all, he did have an extremely long day. And he'd be back on the go tomorrow. He needed rest.
"The busier John gets, the less time he'll have for everything..."
Trish's eyes shot open. She shook her head quickly, willing Stacy's voice out of her head. It wasn't going to happen. They're relationship was better then ever. With a small smile, she closed her eyes again. Sleep didn't sound so bad anyway.
"And the less time he has to eat and sleep, the less energy he'll have. That's energy that would be driving the easiest man alive to keep you satisfied..."
She groaned, pulling the pillow from under her head and covering her ears. She could just see Lita staring at her solemnly. Other couples might struggle through something like this, but not them. Not John Cena and Trish Stratus. They withstood everything. They were indestructible.
"I know what a busy schedule does to a relationship... I just want you to be careful..."
Enough. Trish tossed her pillow to the side, springing into an upright position. She grabbed John's solid bicep, shaking him to consciousness.
"What?" he asked. There was a hint of annoyance in his tone, and it didn't go unnoticed.
"Stacy and Lita said the funniest thing the other day," she quipped, looking down at him. Her completely unamused tone told him she felt otherwise. He knew this probably wouldn't be good, so he forced himself to sit up. He leaned against the headboard and glanced over, encouraging her to continue. "They seem to think that with your busy schedule you're going to have no time left for me..."
John swallowed hard. He knew that no matter what he said, this was not going to end well. Exhaling tiredly, he turned towards her, resting a hand on her knee.
"Sweetheart, nothin's gonna happen to us," he assured her with a smile. "It's gettin' hectic, but I can handle it. Every spare moment I have, I'm spendin' it with you."
He waited for a response, a smile... anything to see that she understood. But her gaze remained uncertain. She placed her hand on top of his, but John couldn't help but notice her hesitance in doing so. She inhaled sharply.
"Is it gonna be like this every time?" she questioned him, gesturing to him. "I mean, you know I support you with this, but I need to see you. You passing out on the couch or in bed every day isn't gonna cut it for me."
"Whadd'ya want me to do, Trish? I can't cut back now, my album drops in 3 weeks. This is big," he told her. A slight twinge went off in his temple, and he grimaced. "Come on, babe, we talked about this..."
Her arms crossed in front of her, and Trish frowned. She knew he was right. But at the moment, she was letting her immaturity get the best of her. John was her boyfriend and she wanted to be with him, in every sense of the term.
"I know we did. It's just... we used to be together every night... we used to go out, we used to see our friends. I stay home every night waiting to see you, and then when I do you can't even devote an hour to me? To us? I haven't gone to a bar or a club in two weeks," she pouted, her eyes widening sadly.
Maybe it was the exhaustion getting the best of him, but John found himself dangerously close to pissed off. He couldn't help but think Trish was being more than a little selfish. He rolled his eyes, closing them again.
"No one's stopping you from goin' out, Trish," he mumbled, turning his back to her.
She stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. Did that really just happen? Before she could question him or even think of a comeback, he was asleep. Anger flickered through her dark eyes, and her bottom lip stuck out even further.
"Fine."
With a stomp, she rose from the bed and headed for the closet, pulling out a change of clothes and shoes. After a quick change and a touch-up of her makeup, Trish bounded out the door, heading out solo for the first time in months...
