I woke up the next morning with my head nestled under Jon's chin. His arms were wrapped tightly around me. I somehow managed to wriggle free of his grasp and made my way to the bathroom before shuffling into the kitchen to start breakfast. I scrambled a few egg whites for Jon and threw a few slices of bread into the toaster. I put some bacon into a pan and dug around my cabinet for the coffee pot I'd bought when I had made the decision to start drinking coffee. It turned out I wasn't a fan, but I still had the coffee and the pot. I plugged it in and started it brewing so he would have a cup to go with his breakfast. Surprisingly enough, he didn't budge through all the noise. He just snoozed away, curled into the couch cushions. He looked so peaceful. I poured myself a glass of juice and his coffee when it was done. I turned off the stove and walked over to the couch quietly with the cup in my hand. I sat it down on the end table and leaned down to kiss Jon's head softly, gently rubbing his scalp as I did.
He groaned and stretched. "I smell coffee," he mumbled.
I giggled softly and kissed his head again. "I made us breakfast," I told him.
He opened one eye and looked up at me. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he said.
I felt my cheeks flush pink and my heart rate speed up. Maybe this was the right time. No. This wasn't it. I'd know when it was right. Wouldn't I? God, it was so exhausting feeling like this. Jon sat up and I reached over, grabbing the cup of coffee and handed it to him. He took a drink of it before stretching and groaning. His joints cracked as he did. I noted to myself that I didn't give him enough credit for what he did on a daily basis; putting his body through such trauma had to be exhausting and painful and he'd been doing it for ten years already with no end in sight. He didn't plan on stopping until he was at least forty. I imagined what he'd sound like when he stretched in the morning fifteen years down the road. Snap, crackle, pop. I hoped somewhere in the back of my mind that I'd still be the one waking up to him then.
We ate breakfast together in our underwear on the couch, discussing things we could possibly do for the day. There was so much to do in Dallas, especially at this time of year. Christmas was getting closer and closer. I had given up my hours at work to one of my part time managers that had three kids so that I could spend time with Jon. She appreciated the extra time on the clock more than anything and I appreciated her allowing me to spend time with my boyfriend. If I could have afforded it, I would have just given her the keys and told her "Merry Christmas" and gone along my way, but I couldn't afford to quit my job. I still had bills to pay regardless if Jon was moving in or not.
I had momentarily forgotten he was moving in. I felt myself smile and I looked up at him. I'd never had a live-in boyfriend before. Hell, I'd never had a real boyfriend. Jon was my first real relationship. I leaned over and softly kissed his muscular arm before laying my head on it.
"You okay?" he asked, taking another drink of his coffee. He sat the cup down on the table next to our empty plates and pulled me closer to him.
I felt safe and secure when he held me close, his arm around me, my head tucked under his chin, one arm squeezed behind him and the other wrapped securely around his waist. He rubbed my arm softly as we sat there.
"Just thinking about how much I don't want to go to work Friday. I gave up my hours today and tomorrow so I could spend time with you. I have a good mind to just never go back, but I have bills to pay and it's Christmas time. I just stress too much about this damn job. I want out so bad," I explained.
"So quit. You can find something else. I know you can. Or. You can just relax. Stay at home and do nothing. I can take care of bills," he said.
I shook my head. I wouldn't be that girl. I couldn't.
"Why not?" he questioned.
"I just can't be that girl. I don't want you to foot all the bills while I just sit on my ass. That wouldn't be fair to you," I replied.
"Sure it would. I pretty much have a set schedule; Friday through Tuesday. I could come home on Wednesdays and Thursdays, see your beautiful face, and go back to work. You wouldn't have to worry about getting off every Wednesday and Thursday, you could travel with me whenever you want… It would be perfect. I'm making enough money right now I think I could handle making the bills. If you want to quit, then quit. I don't like seeing you stressed. At least take a mental health break. For like a month. And then try to find something else," Jon suggested.
I thought on it for a few seconds. I could at least think about it. A month's break sounded glorious, and I was sure I could find something else. Maybe a sabbatical wasn't such a bad idea. I promised Jon that I'd at least put some thought into it. He asked that I give him an answer by the next week so he could break his lease and get what few things he had in Vegas shipped to my place; the most important being, his coffee pot and coffee mug. The way I took it, he was fine with abandoning pretty much everything else in the place. He had a US title belt with his name on it, some wrestling gear, a few pair of jeans, and a mattress on the floor. He said he'd probably leave that behind, though. He just wanted his title belt and his clothes… And that damned coffee pot and coffee mug.
Before I moved Jon in completely, I thought it was important that he meet my sisters.
We decided to go out to a little dive bar where they were having an open mic night to have a few drinks after both of my sisters got off of work. I didn't bother dolling myself up this time, instead of the fancy dress and flats, I opted for an ensemble of black leggings, Doc Martens, and an oversized plaid shirt with a band tee underneath. I pulled my hair on top of my head in a messy bun, swiped on a bit of eyeliner and mascara, and met Jon in the living room.
"You look cute," he said, placing his hands on my hips. I smiled and kissed his lips softly.
"Ready?" I asked.
Jon nodded and took my hand, leading me to the car. Once again, being the gentleman he was, he opened my door for me and then let himself in the car. Suddenly, I was anxious. I wanted to back out of the whole ordeal and go back inside. I chalked it up to nerves, after all, he was meeting my family; really the only family I had. He'd already met my friends and survived. This was going to be the true test. Jon drove us to the bar and paid our cover. We made our way to the bar and ordered our first round of whiskey shots of the night. He chased his with a beer.
"Pussy," I laughed, shaking my head. Jon raised his eyebrows at me as he moved closer and kissed my neck softly. He reached between my legs and began rubbing me through my leggings. I let out a soft whimper, barely audible over the thumping of the music.
"What was that?" he asked, his voice gruff in my ear.
"Nothing," I replied, biting my lip. He chuckled softly and nipped my earlobe before kissing my cheek and leaning back onto the bar. I'd left him hard the previous night and I knew it. I didn't mean to, really. I was so exhausted. Tonight would be different.
"Mich!" I heard from behind me. I turned on my heels, smiling. My sisters had arrived. Amanda was clad in a cream knee length dress with brown and teal cowgirl boots on her feet. She was so damned gorgeous with her olive skin and dark brown hair framing her slim face. She had this infectious smile that honestly lit up a room, with a personality to match. She had a sassy attitude in the absolute best way, with the biggest heart and a giving spirit that made her inner beauty outshine already gorgeous exterior. It really wasn't fair. Blake stood to her left, dressed more like me, but with her own little flair – black leggings, knee high combat boots, and a black chiffon top with tiny skulls adorning it, her platinum blonde hair flipped to one side to show her undercut. She was like me, super fair skinned, but with green eyes whereas mine are blue.
The truth is, neither of these girls were my biological sisters, but blood never really mattered to us. We were sisters. I greeted each of them with a hug and introduced them to Jon.
"Jon… Baby, these are my sisters. Amanda, and Blake," I gestured to each of them. He shook each of their hands and introduced himself and followed his greeting by offering to buy them each a drink. Blake declined, she couldn't stay long and still had to drive home, but Amanda accepted his offer and had a drink. Jon ordered us each another shot and Blake a Coke so she wouldn't feel completely left out. He ventured off to yell at the band to play "Freebird". I couldn't help but laugh and shake my head. He was so silly. I absolutely loved every moment of being around him. He never failed to make me laugh and smile.
"Well?" I said, waiting on my sisters to state their opinion.
"Well we've already told you he's cute. He seems really nice, gentlemanly, funny, fun to be around," Amanda said.
I nodded. "He is," I said, looking over the crowd. It was starting to get packed and I knew it would only be a matter of time before Blake left us. This wasn't exactly her scene.
"As long as he's good to you, you know we don't care. What I'm interested in is his friend. You know. The big Samoan one," Blake said.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head, laughing. Ever since Jon and his partners had debuted on TV, my younger sister had been googly-eyed over the big Samoan they called Roman Reigns. Jon called him Joe, or his 'brotha' more affectionately.
"Like I told you. I'm totally not hounding him about hooking you up with his friend. But maybe when they come to Dallas, you girls can go out with us, his partners and coworkers for dinner and drinks. Then you can strike up a casual conversation with whomever your heart desires," I replied.
Jon swaggered back over, empty beer in hand. He ordered another and leaned on the bar. "What are we talking about?" he asked.
"How Blake thinks your Samoan friend is just the most gorgeous thing. And Amanda here is all about Dolph," I replied. Jon nodded and took a drink of his fresh beer. Both of my sisters blushed.
"I can hook y'all up when we come back to Dallas. We'll all go on like a group date or something," he said, throwing his arm around my shoulders. I smiled and leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I felt safe and secure – happy, content, untouchable.
Blake left after about half an hour so she could still get plenty of sleep before work and Amanda left after we'd all been hanging together for about an hour. They both texted me when they got home to let me know they'd made it safely and to give their stamp of approval for Jon. They could see how happy I was with him and that he was good to me, protective and caring. That was all that mattered to them.
After they made their exit, I couldn't help but notice the anxious feeling hadn't gone away. I felt like there was an elephant sitting on my chest. It was getting stuffy and hard to breathe and I was alone, Jon had gone to shoot a game of pool with a group of guys he'd started chatting with. I'd already shed my plaid shirt and tied it around my waist, but I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead. A minute or so later I realized why. I spotted him all the way across the room and he was coming my way.
"Michy," Mike approached me. I could feel myself stop breathing and my entire body was shaking.
"Mike…" I managed to spit his name out without stuttering. I looked into the next room. Jon was laughing and talking with his newfound friends.
"Thought I saw you. I saw your sisters leaving and figured you would be here. How's it going?" he asked me.
I folded my arms across my chest and nodded. I didn't want to speak for fear of throwing up. I started inching my way away from him toward the room where Jon was, but Mike blocked me. He leaned against the bar and ordered us a round of drinks. I took a deep ragged breath and reminded myself to continue to breathe. Jon would be done soon and he'd come to my rescue, right?
"How's life?" he asked, handing me the drink he'd ordered on my behalf. I took it only because I was certain it hadn't been drugged. I downed it almost all at once.
"I'm great. I have an amazing boyfriend that I'm completely in love with. He's moving in actually," I said.
I could hear my voice shaking. Mike rolled his eyes and shook his head. He leaned back against the bar and I looked him over once. He still looked the same, dark brown hair that he kept shaved close to his head, brown eyes, and a full beard. He had tattoos and wore skinny jeans and had this cocky demeanor about him. He thought he was God's gift to women. More like every woman's nightmare. Jon's partner Colby reminded me a lot of Mike; asshole attitude and all.
Mike reached over and brushed his fingers against my arm. I had been staring off into space because it made me jump.
"Relax," he told me, his voice soft.
I was still trembling. He didn't understand what being around him did to me. It was just shy of having a full blown panic attack. I wondered if I could sneak a 911 text to Jon without Mike noticing. With trembling fingers, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and typed a message to Jon. Before I could hit send, Mike pulled my phone from my hand and put it in his pocket.
"Always texting. I'm standing here talking to you and you're ignoring me. I can remember a time when all you wanted to do is talk to me," Mike said, brushing my cheek with his hand.
I pulled away, the panic setting in deeper now. The air felt thick and my chest felt tight. I could feel my eyes getting wetter and somewhere in the distance I could hear myself faintly gasping for air.
Mike grabbed me and pulled me close to him, only intensifying the attack. It felt like I was being completely smothered now. He had me in a tight grip, his hand on the back of my head, holding it to his chest. I tried to push him away, but he was stronger than me. I swallowed hard, ready to call for Jon, but nothing came out. What seemed like minutes was actually seconds before someone stepped between us; someone tall, broad and muscular with a raspy voice and a leather jacket on. He pushed Mike away and said a few choice words before turning to check on me.
"My phone," I mumbled, "he has my phone."
Jon nodded. With his jaw clenched he turned back to Mike and demanded he give my phone back. When Mike handed it over, he thrust it at me and headed for the door. I followed him, shaky, barely able to walk.
"J-Jon," I stuttered his name, finally catching up to him.
He grunted in response as he was fishing in his pockets for my car keys. He was so angry. I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that it wasn't all at Mike. For the first time since we'd started dating, I was positive he was mad at me. It was my own fault, really. If I had just told him about Mike, he would've had an inkling as to who he was. I'm sure he assumed I was just hugging on some guy at the bar, but I wasn't.
"Jon," I repeated.
"What?" he snapped, turning to face me.
I felt my eyes well up with tears again. I blinked several times, trying to will them away, but they fell anyhow, hot on my cheeks.
"Jon, please…it's not what you think…" I started.
He shook his head, laughing softly. "So what was it? Who was he?" he asked.
I choked back a deep, heavy sob.
"He's my ex…" I replied honestly.
"Your ex?" Jon laughed.
I nodded and wiped at my cheeks. We were having our first fight and I hated it. It made me sick at my stomach. I never imagined our first fight being over my ex boyfriend.
"So I come here on my only days off in the last month to see you, and you hug up on your ex in a bar? How do you think that makes me feel? You still have feelings for him? If you do, I'm out. You can have him and you two can be happy," Jon said. His tone was sharp and harsh.
"Jon, no. It's not like that," I stepped closer to him. I touched his face, but he pulled away.
My eyes welled up again.
"What's it like, Mich? Tell me. Tell me right fucking now. Because I'm not here to play this childish bullshit. I don't want to waste my time on some girl who's still in love with her ex!" Jon yelled.
"I don't love him! I love you!" I yelled back.