"Look nothing is going to happen." I wanted to make that clear as I walked into my hotel room. "Absolutely nothing. I don't care if I care about you and you, me. None of it matters, nothing is going to happen. I'm going to finish out the next month and so then I'm going home with not a thought of this. We're burying it, do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal." John said through gritted teeth. I hadn't stopped harping on the subject since we left the arena and I know how to harp on a subject but I didn't know when to stop and when I wanted something to be clear. I made sure it was.
This wasn't just for him though, it was for me too. I had to be sure that nothing was going to happen. "Well, I'm exhausted so I'm going to bed. Night." I went into my room and put on my jammies and went to sleep not realizing just how emotionally tiring the day had been.
I woke up around four thirty. I had to pee. Some things never changed. As I was making my way back to bed I heard a noise coming from John's room. God he was loud. What was he still doing up? I opened the door ever so slightly to look inside. I found a blonde girl fumbling around the room looking for her clothes. I closed the door quickly but quietly. I fought back the tears that were on the brink of exploding from my eyes. Some things really never change.
The next morning John strolled into my room at seven with probably his third or fourth cup of coffee. "Morning."
I looked up at him, ready to leave. "Morning." No look crossed my face. I stayed still, emotionless.
"Something wrong?" He asked, stepping closer.
I inched away from him. "So you care about me John?" I put extra emphasis on the one word that meant something. "Did you care about the blonde last night, too?"
His mouth dropped open and he looked down into his coffee cup. I scoffed, "Yea I saw her. Looks like burying those feeling was easy for you. Good. Then this won't be hard. Let's get to work."
"You wanted it to be strictly business. Don't be mad because that's what you got." John spat back at me obviously not willing to lose this argument.
No kind words passed between us that day, nor did any of substance. It was completely business, just as I had wanted it. After the day was over and we were getting ready to head in, John just dropped me off, mumbling something about getting a drink. I didn't listen. I wanted to get to sleep. The best thing about being depressed. I allowed myself to do nothing, but sleep.
I was awoken from a sound sleep as someone made their way into my hotel room. I didn't open my eyes, assuming it was John checking in on me as he always did when he couldn't sleep and felt the need to be annoying.
"Michelle…" He cooed, in a sing-song type voice, obviously a little drunk. "Are you asleep, little girl?" He slurred his words, stumbling as he walked over to the bed.
"What the hell is wrong with you, John?" I asked turning and sitting up in bed, looking at the man who was now beginning to crawl into bed with me.
"Nothing is wrong with me. I just need to ask you something." He was right next to me now and I could smell the alcohol on his breath. Coors Light, obviously, I knew by the fact that I wanted to regurgitate just by the smell.
"What?" I asked, anxious for him to leave me alone so I could get back to sleep.
"Could you scream for me?"
Before I had a chance to answer, John kissed me and I gagged at the taste of the beer on his lips and in my mouth as he slid his tongue in. He didn't take much notice of my distaste for the kiss. He pushed me onto my back, straddling me, deepening the kiss much to his satisfaction.
I whimpered, softly. I didn't want this but I didn't want it to stop either. He left my mouth, trailing kisses down my jaw line and to my neck. I felt his hands slip under my shirt, pushing it up, and arched up off of the bed to make it easier for him to remove the garment.
His lips left my skin just long enough to take off my shirt, returning to the soft skin of my neck. I lowered my hands, finding the hem of his shirt and lifting it up, eager to feel his skin on my own. John smiled against my neck, sitting up and removing his shirt.
He didn't lean back in, instead shifting his attention to my shorts, lowering them, taking my panties with them. I writhed when he did this, trying to sit up and stop him. He pushed me back down, successful managing to take off the last of my clothing.
The next morning I woke up, alone. I looked around, trying to see if John were still in my hotel room, unsure of what I'd do if he was. I heard the sink running in the bathroom. This wasn't much of a shock, John was probably brushing his teeth after getting sick because after all he drank last night he was probably pretty hung over.
"John?" I called, wanting to face him. I had to get this over with. I stayed in bed though, not knowing where all of my clothes had landed.
"What do you want Michelle?" He said, emerging from the bathroom, in his boxers only. He saw me and seemed a little shocked. "What are you doing in my hotel room and in my bed?"
"What?" I asked, even more confused. "John look around this is my hotel room."
"How'd I end up here? I woke up in here. Why?" John asked looking slightly angry.
"You were drunk, being an ass, came in here to check on me and I guess you ended up getting into bed and falling asleep." I replied.
John looked at me in disbelief "In my boxers? And correct me if I'm wrong but are you naked under there?"
"I'm sorry but what do my pajamas, or in this case lack of have to do with you getting drunk?"
"I guess nothing." John shrugged his shoulders. Honestly not thinking more of the conversation than what had been said."I'm going to get dressed. You should do the same. And get me some coffee."
"Right." I said as he walked out and left me to dress myself. Well, I really don't think that there was a need to explain. It's not like anything had happened. He did what most drunk people do, passed out before the good stuff started.