I couldn't believe Jon was standing in front of me. Seeing him was honestly the last thing I expected. I was in complete shock. He smiled at me again. "Baby, you okay?" he asked, taking a step toward me. I nodded and reached up to touch his face, just to make sure he was real. His face was scruffy from being on the road for a week. I didn't mind. The stubble didn't bother me. He looked so rugged and manly with it. I didn't even care if it scratched my face when he kissed me.
"I'm real, in case that's what you're wondering," he said, cupping my chin in one of his hands. He kissed me softly, rubbing my chin with his thumb as he pulled away. "What are you doing here? And where's my pizza?" I asked. He chuckled, handed me the bouquet of flowers wrapped in cellophane, and pulled his suitcase inside, shutting the door behind him.
"I wanted to see you smile. And I have other plans for dinner than pizza. I mean, if you'd rather have the pizza, I can catch a flight, but…" he started for the door. "No!" I said, pulling him back to me. Jon smiled and kissed my head. "Come on," he took the flowers from me and laid them on my table. "Go get a shower. Put on something nice, and let me take you out. You've been cooped up in this apartment for days. You need to get out. You'll go stir crazy," he told me.
I laughed slightly. "I'm already going nuts," I told him, "but okay. God. I'm so happy to see you." I touched his face again. It still hadn't set in that he was really there. "You've got me for three days," he said.
"Three days," I repeated, "well…I guess now would be a perfect time for you to meet my family. I have two sisters who you need to meet, since you've already met my friends." Jon patted my cheek. "We'll discuss that later. Go get ready. We've got somewhere to be at 8," he said, pushing me toward the bathroom. I wondered where he could be taking me. What did I need to wear? He said something nice, but to him, nice was a button down and jeans without holes in them. I decided somewhere between washing and conditioning that I had a cute dress in my closet I could wear. It was a black vintage swing dress with a sweetheart neckline and white polka dots on the bodice. I could easily put my hair in a quick up-do, throw on some pearls, do a winged liner and red lip and be done. It wouldn't even take me half an hour to get ready.
I wondered how he'd react to seeing me that way. He'd only seen me in jeans and a t-shirt, or at the most, a casual little sundress I'd wear to work. He'd never seen me dolled up. I turned the water off and climbed out of the shower. Jon had stuck my flowers in a plastic cup and set them on the bathroom counter. I smiled and wrapped a towel around myself. For the first time in weeks, I felt alive. It's funny how one single human being can do that to you. I dried myself off and readied myself as quickly as I could. I slipped on a pair of red flats to match my lips and the flower I'd decided to clip into my hair and walked out of the bedroom.
"Jon?" I called. He sat up on the couch, looking half asleep. I smiled nervously. "Damn. You look…damn," he rubbed his eyes. He had to be exhausted. I knew he'd just done a weeklong run without a break. He worked so hard, and for him to come see me to simply make me smile meant a lot. It just made me fall harder for him than I already had. "Ready?" I asked. He nodded and stood and I saw that he had changed. He had on a pair of black jeans and a black button down, with black cowboy boots and a silver belt buckle on. His shirt was wrinkled from his time lying on the couch, but my God, he looked nice. We matched well, even. I smiled, smoothing out his shirt. "You ready?" he asked me. I nodded. "Let's roll, then, darlin'," he replied. I went back to the bedroom to grab my purse and keys. Jon waited by the front door for me patiently.
"Let me drive," he held out his hand for the keys. I laid them in his hand and he shoved them in his pocket before holding out his hand again. This was new. We were venturing out in public and he was willing to show affection. I placed my hand in his. He laced our fingers together and kissed my hand softly before leading me out of the apartment and to my car. "Thank you," I said as he held the car door open for me.
"Anytime, beautiful," he answered. He kissed my forehead softly and shut the door after I got in and situated. I watched his every move as he walked in front of the car to the driver's side and got in. He fastened his seatbelt and pulled out of the apartment complex before either of us spoke again.
"So may I ask where we're going?" I asked him. He smiled over at me. "It's a surprise, much like the rest of this whole thing has been. Were you surprised? I didn't give it away did I?" he asked. I smiled and shook my head.
"Not at all. You did really great, actually. I'm really happy you're here," I bit my lip before continuing, "I missed you."
Jon grabbed my hand and kissed it softly again in response. He wasn't very verbally affectionate. I wasn't upset about it. I was thankful for the kisses and hand holding I was getting from him that night. I went silent, unable to think of much else to say when Jon spoke.
"So, uh…you said you'd never been on a real date. Like a fancy dinner date or something," Jon stated.
"Never," I replied.
"Tonight that's changing," he said.
I had a feeling that might have been what was going on. It made me smile that he listened and paid that much attention to something I'd told him weeks before, and that he wanted to change that. I wondered if maybe he was falling, too. I couldn't help but stare at him. It wasn't quite dark in Texas, yet, but the sun was setting, casting this light on his face that can't be described with words. He was just so damned beautiful to me, from the curly blonde hair on his head, to his beautiful blue eyes, his perfect lips – I honestly can say I loved every feature he had. I loved how his voice sounded at all hours of the day – at two in the morning when he called to tell me goodnight, or at 9 am when he called to wake me up and tell me I could face the day. He was constantly encouraging me to fight the battle against myself. He told me that my life was worth living and that his wouldn't have been the same if I hadn't come around, that I had changed his life for the better; and I believed him.
"This is it," Jon said, turning into a parking lot. We were at Reunion Tower, a Dallas landmark. It was a sphere shaped building on a huge pedestal that overlooked the city – one of the most prestigious five-star restaurants lived inside of it – owned by Wolfgang Puck. It also housed a hotel and observatory. It was one of the most romantic and expensive places in Dallas. "Here?" I asked. "Yep. Come on," he said, exiting the car and coming around to my side. He opened the door for me and helped me out of the car, shutting and locking the doors behind us. We rode the elevator up to the restaurant. It was darkly lit, and full of couples dining on fine cuisine, sipping wine and champagne, dressed to the nines. I felt underdressed, and I'm sure Jon did too.
"May we help you?" a little old man clad in a tuxedo asked Jon. He had a white napkin draped over his arm. God, this place was formal. Too formal for us, I was afraid. "Yeah, two please," Jon said. Oh dear. This was not going to end well. "Do you have reservations?" the man asked Jon. "No? You need reservations?" Jon retaliated. "Yes sir, you do. Would you like to make reservations for another night? We're booked through this week, but I'm sure we could get you in next Monday," the man pulled out a thick black binder. "I have to work on Monday. You can't just squeeze us in tonight?" Jon asked. "No, sir, we cannot," the man replied. He seemed astounded that Jon would ask such a thing.
"Jon, baby. Let's just go. Come on. It's okay," I pulled on his arm. There was no point in arguing with the little old man anymore. I was afraid Jon was just going to haul off and deck the old guy. He huffed a bit, muttering to himself, but he finally followed me back to the elevator. He was silent for the first few floors, but he pulled me close and stroked my cheek softly. "I'm sorry. I'm such a fuck up. I should've known better," he said. I could tell he felt horrible about our date falling through. I held his face in my hands and stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. "You are not a fuck up. You didn't know. Okay? It's okay," I said, kissing him again. My red lipstick was now on his lips. I laughed softly and wiped at his lips with my thumb.
"Not my color?" he asked, giving a slight smile. "Not really," I laughed again. Jon sighed heavily as the elevator opened. He pulled me out gently by the hand and we walked quietly to the car. The night air was a little cold, but not frigid. The moon was shining brightly and accompanied by the city lights, we could have walked anywhere safely. I wrapped my arms around Jon's waist and laid my head on his chest to warm myself a bit.
"Wanna get a pizza?" he asked, rubbing my back. "Actually, I know a place not far from here…is that okay with you?" I asked. He nodded. "Anything that doesn't need reservations," he replied. I couldn't help but giggle a little bit. At least we could joke about the situation. He seemed to be calming down a bit now, not quite as angry about the date not going according to plan. I was just happy to have him with me. I wanted so badly to tell him that he was such a source of happiness for me, that he made me feel like my heart was full of joy and happiness and that when he was around me, nothing in the world could go wrong. I felt safe and secure, wanted, needed….I felt loved. My friends gave me those feelings too, but in a different sense. He was like a warm blanket on a cold night, hot chocolate with the right amount of marshmallows, the smoothest whiskey; he was honest to God the missing piece for me. He filled a void I never even knew I had. My God, he was fucking perfect.
I wanted to tell him all of this, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. The last time I had told anyone how I felt about them it had backfired so badly I didn't date for five years. I knew Jon wouldn't be like Mike. He wouldn't go off and tell his friends how desperate and pathetic I was. He wouldn't go write a song about how fat and ugly I was and play it in front of me. He wasn't that kind of guy, no. I hadn't even told him the whole story about Mike, or that we still talked from time to time. I was a masochist in that way; though since Jon had come into my life, I'd put everyone on the back burner except my two best friends and my sisters, and that made Mike angry. I'd received several Facebook messages and texts from him asking why the hell I was acting like he didn't exist, but I just ignored him. I didn't need him dragging me down.
"What are you thinking so hard about?" Jon asked me. I snapped out of the trance I was in and looked up at him. "Sorry. Just…thinking about you. Us. This," I said, looking around. Somehow we'd made it halfway to the pizza joint. Jon nodded, but didn't speak. He was holding my hand tightly, our fingers laced. I smiled to myself softly. He was holding my hand in public again. All I'd heard from him was how he wasn't one for public displays of affection at all. He didn't like to put his relationships out in the open. He said it wasn't that he was ashamed – he was protective. He knew how crazy girls could be. He wanted to protect what was his. He didn't want any name calling or hatred spewed at his girlfriend. Everywhere he went someone knew who he was, and all it took was one person to see him with a girl and bam, the wrestling tabloids would pick up on it and he'd be all over the internet the next day. He didn't want that for me, for us. He wanted us to be able to enjoy one another's company privately, to be able to have a real relationship without hundreds of thousands of other people involved, and I respected that.
We rounded the corner to the pizza shop and made our way inside. It was warm and toasty in there from the fire of the pizza ovens. The lighting was dim, but cozy, the booths and tables appropriately sized for the large pizzas they served, the biggest I've ever seen. A slice was over a foot long, and nearly as big across. We slid into a corner booth by the window and were soon greeted by a server who took our order and scurried away, leaving us alone again. The place was abuzz with chatter from the other customers, but nothing loud and obnoxious. I didn't want to tell Jon, but this was way better than any fancy five-star meal to me. He reached across the table and took my hands into his, just holding them in his, not speaking. We didn't have to speak in one another's presence, it seemed. Just existing close to one another was enough for us.
Don't get me wrong, I loved hearing him speak – all the years of yelling at other wrestlers, fans, throwing back whiskey sours, smoking, and cutting promos had made his voice raspy. It was somehow soothing. He had this cute Ohio accent, even though he swore he had a twang from growing up so close to the Kentucky state line, I never heard it. We were from such different worlds, but our worlds fit so perfectly together. I smiled, rubbing my thumbs across his to grab his attention. He'd gotten caught up in staring outside. He looked at me with his blue eyes and I felt my heart lurch. Just say it, Mich, I told myself, just tell him you love him.