"Well check you out" the friend says, smirking across at the bed. "Jon Good, all married and respectable. Or is it just your mouth running away with you again?" "Fuck you Colby" Jon spits from the bed. Colby grins. "Hell yeah" he says looking at me. "After that performance Jon I'm half tempted! What do you do for an encore?" "Kick your ass around the room" Jon says simply. I laugh and Colby smiles. "Colby""he says, holding his hand out to me. "I'll introduce myself, your husband clearly ain't making no introductions." "Hi Colby" I say, smiling and taking his hand. "I'll let my husband tell you my name." Jon looks at me blankly. "Uh toots" he says, running his hand through his hair. "We haven't, uh, been formally introduced." "I know" I shrug, leaning back into the sofa. "This should be fun." Colby looks at me and then back at Jon. "Well?" he asks. Jon smirks triumphantly. "Rollins" he says smiling at me. "Meet Mrs Good. There. That's your introduction to my wife. Now get out of our room." Colby shakes his head as he stands. "See you at breakfast Mrs Good" he says kissing my cheek. "Oh, be warned, this is all over twitter. You might wanna keep your, um, exceptional lover routine up for a bit longer." He opens the door and leaves quickly, before Jon can say anything.
"Damn him" he finally splutters, getting off the bed and walking over to me. "He knows I don't have twitter." "I do" I say, grabbing my phone. He sits next to me quickly. "Search for my name" he says as I open the app. I start typing in Jon Good when he stops me. "My ring name" he says simply. I look at him blankly. "Your what?" I ask. He stares at me in disbelief. "You have no idea who I am?" he asks finally. "Jon Good apparently" I say. "With a load of fans in the lobby, it's obvious you're famous, but clearly not under that name." He shakes his head. "I'm a wrestler" he says, as if it's meant to mean something to me. "With the WWE. My ring name is Dean Ambrose." I shake my head and type that in instead. Straight away the mentions goes crazy. "Ambrose is married, the wife is here with him" he reads as I hand him the phone. "Anyone know anything about Deans wife? Deans a screamer!" I laugh out loud at that one. "Serves you right for faking" I say as he looks at me quickly. A new mention pops up and he scrolls to it. "Fucking Colby!" he growls, grabbing his phone. I frown and take mine from him. "Just interrupted Mr and Mrs Good during their catch up session #mybad" I read. "Holy shit he's doing a Q and A!" Jon quickly dials Colby and waits for him to answer. "Fucking voicemail" he growls, ending the call and throwing his phone across the room. I shake my head. "How bad can it be?" I ask. "He knows nothing because there's nothing to know." "Exactly" he says simply. "He can make all kinds of shit up and cause me loads of shit when we get back to the States." I shake my head. "You're a big boy" I say. "Deal with it. Deny it. You started this anyway, dear husband." He smirks. A delightful smirk. One I wouldn't mind seeing more often. "Mind if I hit the shower?" I ask suddenly. He frowns but nods, pointing at the bathroom as if I didn't know where it was. I grab my bag and head into the bathroom, making sure the door is locked behind me.
"Uh Jon?" I say, opening the door after my shower. No reply. I look around the room and spot a note propped up against the pillow. "Doll" I read. "I've headed to the bar where you are most welcome to join me. Jon." I groan, secretly glad he's not here. No clean clothes in my bag, I left the bathroom in just my underwear, hoping to use the robe which I'd managed to leave on the bed. I spot his open bag, a shirt on top. "Husband, right" I say, picking it up. "We share." I grab my jeans out of my bag and pull them on, running a brush through my hair as I check my makeup. Most of it has washed off so I quickly reapply my mascara and eyeliner, adding a touch of clear lip gloss before grabbing my phone and my shoes and heading down to the bar to meet him. I catch a hint of his smell as I wait for the elevator and I smile. His shirt smells of him. It comforts me, and disturbs me that it makes me feel that way. I don't know this guy. The elevator doors open and I step in, taking a deep breath before pushing the button for the lobby and waiting for the doors to close behind me.
I hear him before I see him. He seems to sense my prescence, turning slowly on the barstool until he's staring straight at me, that delicious smirk on his lips once more. "I recognise that shirt, Mrs Good" he drawls slowly, holding his hand out to me. "Come, join me, I saved you a space right here." He pats his lap and my legs start moving without me even making the decision to go to him. I'm next to him in no time, airborne and on his lap faster than I can process what's going on. He spins us back around and nuzzles into my neck affectionately. The fans around him lap it up, taking sneaky pictures when they think we won't notice. I smile, playing along with his little game, mentally counting down the hours until I have to leave him and get back to reality.