I boarded my second plane in a week, heading this time for Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to welcome my boyfriend home from his first European tour with the WWE. Flying was getting easier and easier. I no longer got anxious waiting in security lines and no longer fretted about missing my plane during a layover. The only time I got anxious was when I was flying to see Jon. I always got so impatient and cranky; everyone was in my way and coming between us and that shit was not okay by any means. I took a few deep breaths and tried to relax, closing my eyes as we took off.
The day before I flew out, I had gotten Jon's Bronco safely back to Dallas and slowly began trickling boxes in with the help of my sisters. They helped me drag his bed up the stairs and set it up on a frame Amanda had in storage. Now we had a full sized bed in the empty room I had used as storage since I moved in and I officially no longer lived alone.
"How does it feel having a live-in boyfriend?" Blake asked as we unpacked Jon's boxes. I carefully placed his coffee maker on the counter in place of the one I had and arranged his cups in the cabinet, leaving his favorite one out so that he could find it when he got home.
"It's different. When he's here everything feels…I don't know, different. I'm used to sleeping alone and waking up to an empty apartment. I'm used to cooking for one person or ordering in because I don't want to go out. I'm accustomed to doing one person's laundry. Now I do everything for two. I have a routine. I pick him up early on Wednesday mornings and take him to the airport on Friday mornings," I shrugged to end my sentence. It was different now, but not in a bad way. I was finally in a routine that wasn't stressful to me. I didn't wake up every morning regretting that I was alive. Jon had changed my life so much in the short amount of time that we had known each other and I knew there was no possible way I could ever repay him.
I took my carry on from the overhead compartment and my purse before quickly exiting the plane after we landed. This was the part where I got anxious, having all of the other passengers crowd around me, everyone pushing to get off. I'd learned to pack lightly, to stuff everything in a carry-on bag and skip the checked bag if at all possible. Once I finally got out, I bolted for the escalator as fast as I could, looking for my boyfriend as I rode it down. I spotted him waiting in a chair, his back to me; his blonde curls were sticking out from underneath a camo ball cap. I felt a smile spreading across my face and I just couldn't wait. I took the last steps two at a time until I reached the bottom and nearly sprinted to him. I wrapped my arms around him from behind, kissing his cheek over and over.
"Woah. Hey," he smiled, turning toward me. He placed a soft kiss on my lips. I couldn't help but notice how tired his eyes looked. I rubbed his shoulders and kissed him again.
"I missed you," I said.
"I missed you baby. A ton," he replied.
"You ready?" I asked.
Jon nodded then stood and stretched, his shirt lifting up exposing his midriff as he did. He picked up his leather jacket and pulled it back on. He then took my bag into his hand and threw his free arm around me. I buried my face into his side, breathing his scent in. He had a particular scent, one that not every girl would probably say smells great. He smelled like a big redneck wrestler- like leather and bourbon mixed with a little bit of Right Guard deodorant and Old Spice body wash. It was comforting.
Jon laughed and squeezed my shoulder gently.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Smelling you," I replied, looking up finally.
Jon gave me that shit-eating grin of his. I loved that smile so much.
"Let's go back to the hotel for a bit," he said, kissing my head. He walked us to his rental car, a black Chevy covered in residue from the snowy mess that still covered the roads and highways of Pennsylvania. Once the car was warm enough to drive, Jon easily navigated it to the hotel without the help of a GPS or map; he knew his way around this town well – he had lived here for many years when he wrestled in the independent circuit – mostly for a Philly based promotion called Combat Zone Wrestling, or CZW. I was somewhat thankful we weren't together in those days. I don't know if my fragile heart could have handled all the pain he endured. I cringed enough now watching him wrestle. I hated the idea of him being in pain.
Our car ride was quiet for most part; we were just content being with one another. We arrived to the hotel rather quickly despite the road conditions and traffic. The arena was visible from the room, which meant we could relax for quite a while before the show. Jon kicked off his boots and tossed his jacket onto the spare queen sized bed. He looked absolutely drained; I imagined the jetlag from his overseas tour was nagging at him and he still had two more shows to do before he got two days off. I heard the buckle on his belt jingle and a soft sound as his ripped up jeans hit the floor.
"Come here," he patted the plush bed as he settled in. I too shed my coat and shoes before crawling into bed with him. I cuddled him close, comforted by the combination of the warmth of his body, the heavy white down comforter, and his scent. He was freshly showered, the smell of his body wash was strong and still lingered in the room, wet towels laid on the red and gold carpeted floor and draped across the black rolling chair sat by the dark oak desk in the corner. Jon's suitcase laid on the other bed, now covered by his jacket, a mesh sack of dirty laundry next to it.
"I love you," he mumbled sleepily into my neck before placing a scruffy kiss at the hollow of my throat. He tightly wrapped his toned arms around me before slowly closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep. I smiled softly and placed a kiss on his forehead, running my fingers through his thick curly hair. It almost seemed creepy to think of watching him sleep, but I couldn't very well move. I did however locate the television remote on the table behind Jon's head and reached carefully to grab it. I turned the TV onto a cooking channel and laid awake in his grasp, gently rubbing his head all the while.
After two episodes of Chopped, I decided it was probably time to wake Jon up. His stomach had been violently growling in his sleep; I had no idea how he hadn't woken up already. I started by untangling myself from his grasp, which caused him to stir a bit before he reached for me again.
I giggled softly, averting his grasp by lacing my hand with his as he tried to grab me again.
"No," he groaned.
"Come on. Up. Food, then you have to go to work," I told him.
"No," he grunted, burying his face in my chest and sank his teeth gently into my right breast just lightly nipping at the skin.
"Jonathan, don't you dare," I said. He chuckled softly and kissed it instead of sinking his teeth further.
I rubbed his head and placed a kiss on his nose.
"Thank you," I said, "you can mark me later. But not before I go to work with you. Okay?"
"Alright. Let's go," he said, rolling out of bed. He stretched and yawned, letting out a loud groan. I watched him closely and rolled into the spot he'd been in; it was warm and cradled my body perfectly where the plush mattress was still sunken in.
Jon pulled on his jeans and started packing a bag to take to the arena as I laid in his spot, watching. All I had to do was pull my boots and jacket back on, so I had a few minutes to procrastinate and just admire my boyfriend. I guessed he could feel me staring at him because he shot me a look in the mirror.
"If I have to get up, so do you," he said.
"Nuh uh," I replied.
He turned and gave me another look, this time a challenging one that said 'get your ass up'.
"Make me," I said, sticking my tongue out.
"You asked for it," he shrugged and threw himself on top of me and began tickling me anywhere he could.
"JON! STOP!" I screeched his name, trying to wriggle away. My sides hurt from laughing and there were tears streaming from my eyes. It was getting harder to breathe and I was certain that someone from the hotel would be knocking on the door anytime to kick us out or tell us to keep it down.
"You forgot to say please," he said.
I whimpered. Damn it, why did that turn me on?
"Please," I pouted at him.
Jon laughed and rolled off the bed once more, extending his hand to help me to my feet. I wrapped my arms around him once I was standing and looked up at him, my chin resting on his sternum. He held my chin softly in his right hand, his left on the small of my back, and kissed me deeply, his tongue teasing my bottom lip as he pulled it gently into his mouth. His left hand moved from my lower back down to my ass. He cupped it gently at first and then gave it a light squeeze. Fuck, we didn't have time for this, but I wanted him so damn bad. It had been weeks. I willed myself to pull away after a moment. We really needed to get a move on.
"Later," I promised.
"I'm gonna hold you to that," he replied, kissing my lips softly once more. I helped him finish packing his bag for the show and then pulled my boots and jacket back on. I threw my purse over my shoulder and made sure to grab Jon's new phone out of my carry-on so I could show him how to work it over lunch.
"Ready?" I asked.
Jon nodded and pulled up the handle on his bag, dragging it behind him with his left hand and extending his right to me. I took it happily, lacing our fingers together. We made our way downstairs and out one of the side exits as fans had gathered in the lobby waiting to meet their favorite stars; we were somewhat pressed for time and our time together was precious. I didn't mind. I didn't feel like he was ashamed of me at all.
"What do you wanna eat?" Jon asked after we were inside the car. A few fans had noticed him, so he took a quick second to take a photo with them before kindly stepping away and getting into the car.
"Well, we're in Philly," I said.
"We are. So…cheesesteak," Jon replied. He took a left out of the parking lot and headed toward downtown, quiet and focused on dodging the traffic, his hands gripping the wheel tightly, lips pursed, teeth grinding. He had a strong disdain for traffic and the worst road rage out of anyone I knew.
Jon coasted further down the main road until we came to a triangular intersection where South Philly's two most popular cheesesteak joints sat directly next to one another. He parked the car parallel next to a park and fed the meter half a dozen quarters for an hour of time.
"So, how about I go to one and you to the other, then you can decide which is your favorite?" Jon suggested. He had spent a lengthy amount of time explaining to me why Geno's was superior; provolone cheese vs Cheez Wiz at Pat's. After strict ordering instructions, Jon sent me on my way to Pat's and went on his to Geno's. Why was ordering a sandwich so complicated? I went over his instructions in my head and was relieved when I saw the instructions posted above the ordering window. I quickly placed my order and moved to the pick up window where my sandwich was nearly slung at me.
'Jeez, people here are rude,' I thought to myself, picking up my order. I made my way to Jon and the car, my mouth watering; the smell of perfectly grilled steak and onions slathered in cheese on a soft, fresh roll was smacking me in the face and I was starving.
"Good thing I got the extra insurance. We're gonna get this car so greasy and cheesy," Jon laughed, unlocking the doors. We got into the car and split the sandwiches in half. I have to admit that Jon's was much better, the provolone cheese had a smoky flavor that married perfectly with the slightly charred grilled onions and thinly sliced steak. Mine wasn't bad, but I liked Jon's so much I made him promise to swing by on the way to the next town after RAW so I could get a whole one.
"We used to come here after shows when we'd get paid real good. Buy a couple steak sandwiches and split 'em between four of us. Beats ramen and stale pretzels any day," Jon told me.
"You have so many different stories and memories. It feels like you have one for every city you've been to. I like that about you. I like hearing your stories," I replied.
"Yeah? You know what I like?" Jon said, taking a bite of his food.
"What's that?" I asked.
Jon looked over at me and smiled softly, brushing my cheek with the back of his hand.
"Making new memories with you. Making new stories with you. Like this, this is something we'll both remember together."
Jon didn't show his soft side often; it just wasn't in his nature. His whole life had hardened him. The longer we spent together though, the more his walls came down.
"I love you," I said, nuzzling my cheek against his hand.
"And I love you. Come on. I wanna take you somewhere special to me," Jon started the car and began making his way back down the road. We came to a small building on a corner and he pointed at it, a reminiscent smile on his face.
"I won my first CZW title in that building," he told me.
"Aww. Babe. That's awesome," I replied, rubbing his arm softly.
"I hope you're around when I win my first WWE title someday," he added.
"You tell me when and I promise I'll be there," I told him.
Jon pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine.
"Come on," he took my hand and led me to the door, only letting go to fish a key out of his pocket.
"Um, Jon…" I was hesitant about going into this building; it looked somewhat sketchy, the lights were all off and the only thing that indicated what the building housed were painted letters on the door that read 'CZW offices and training facility – Authorized Personnel Only – Fan Entrance in back'.
"Trust me?" he asked. I nodded. Of course I trusted him; I just wasn't fond of the idea of going to jail for trespassing or breaking and entering. Jon then unlocked the door and pushed it open, flipping on the lights with a panel of switches next to the door. It was cold and void of humans; a large amount of gym equipment was placed in the front, free weights and a punching bag. There were no fancy machines here, no treadmills or stair-climbers, no bikes. Everything was old-school, the way Jon preferred to work out anyhow. There were huge industrial fans in the windows and a large steel-bladed ceiling fan hung over us, caked in layers and layers of dust. I assumed it had seen better days. In the back of the building was a wrestling ring that I immediately recognized from videos that Jon had showed me of his past matches. This was where he really made a name for himself; wrestling Tournament of Death matches and being hit with light bulbs, tangling himself in barbed wire, having mouse traps stuck to his tongue and fingers. He still couldn't bend his pinky on his left hand correctly.
Jon was a glutton for pain sometimes; a masochist. He had put his body through so much to get to the top of the ladder. This was where he really showed his passion and desire to succeed as a pro wrestler. This was Combat Zone Wrestling, CZW. This was where Jon Moxley's legacy was built.
"I won my first tag titles in this building. We had a lot of outdoor shows, but this one was here because there was a blizzard outside. It was me and Sami, you know Sami, and we were known as the Switchblade Conspiracy. So it was me and Sami against Drake and Scotty. Well we weren't supposed to win, you see," Jon explained as we walked toward the ring. He climbed the steps and got in, walking the ropes slowly. I could see how proud he was of himself in that moment; proud of how far he had come.
"But you did," I encouraged him to go on.
"Hell yeah, we did. Scotty got hurt. Sucks, but it's part of the game, so I hit my finisher on Drake and pinned him. Split second decision, me and Sami, tag team champions of the world. Well, at least as far as CZW was concerned," Jon mounted the turnbuckle and looked out around the building, his hands on his hips, "I never in a million years thought I'd get out of here. I wanted to make it so damn bad but I'd been told no so many times. TNA didn't want me. Ring of Honor neither. And I'd had try out after try out with WWE."
He climbed down off the turn buckle and exited the ropes, sitting on the apron of the ring.
"But you made it," I said, standing and walking closer to him.
"I did. I came so close to giving up so many times. I was close again when I met you," he replied, pulling me to him. He gingerly kissed my nose and tucked a few loose hairs behind my ears. He let out a heavy sigh, resting his chin on top of my head gently.
"Did I help?" I asked.
"Huh?" he replied, pulling back slowly so that he could look me in the eye.
"Did I help you not give up?" I asked again.
Jon smiled softy and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you did," he replied.
It made me feel good that I had changed his life for the better; he had definitely changed mine that was for sure. I was proud to call him mine and he was proud of me. That was something no guy had ever been of me; proud to call me his girl, no matter what I looked like. He didn't give a shit if his friends liked me or thought I was pretty. He only cared what he thought. I thought how nice it would be if there more Jonathan Goods in the world. I knew there had to be more girls like me, who had been torn apart by some shitty fuckboy of a guy - a sorry excuse for a man. I hoped Brandi had found one in Tommy and that maybe someday my sisters could find great guys to be good to them. They surely deserved it.
After a few minutes, Jon and I left the building and began making our way to the venue where Monday Night Raw would be held. Chelsea would be there and as soon as the show was underway I would be making my way to the crowd to watch it with her. I had convinced Jon to bring along one of her co-workers and Chelsea's favorite superstar, Wade Barrett so that we could have somewhat of a double date. I didn't want to Chels to feel like a third wheel, after all.
We arrived at the venue around four in the afternoon, three and a half hours before the show was to start. Jon had to check in with his bosses and creative department to find out what he would be doing for the evening. I headed off to find his dressing room and the catering area. Along the way, I ran into several of his co-workers whom I'd met when I had gone to visit him on the road a few weeks prior. They were all cordial and I was pleased that they remembered me. I couldn't help but notice how kind and polite one of his coworkers in particular was, Nick Nemeth, known to the WWE Universe as Dolph Ziggler. My sister Amanda was into him and his character. I had mentioned this to him prior and he remembered that as well, asking how she was with a bright smile on his face.
"She's great! I'll have to tell her you asked about her. She'll be thrilled," I said, laughing.
"You should give her my number. Get it from your boy," Nick patted me on the shoulder and left me with that same bright smile he'd given when he asked about Amanda.
I smiled to myself and took a left at the end of the corridor toward the locker rooms and catering, my head down, buried in my phone. I was texting my sister to let her know I had run into her fantasy man. I did however decide to keep it to myself that he wanted to start talking to her on the phone. I'd let that be a surprise, at least until I gave her his number.
I must have been really into the texts I was sending and receiving because I ran straight into another human; a petite blonde announcer that went by the name of Renee Young. I'd heard quite a bit about her. She was quite friendly with some of the guys.
"Watch where you're going," she scoffed.
"I'm so sorry. I was talking to my sister," I replied, stepping aside to move out of her way.
"You're Jon's girlfriend right?" she asked.
"Yeah," I replied, "yeah. I am. I'm Mich." I introduced myself politely. The look of sheer annoyance never left her face. She scoffed again and shook her head.
"Wow, he really downgraded," she sneered.
"Excuse me?" I retorted; I was calm on the outside, but inside I was seething. Who the hell did she think she was?!
"You heard me. He downgraded. I can't believe he dumped me for you. Just wait, sweetie. Something better will come along and he'll kick you to the curb too. Or better yet, he'll come running back to me like he always does. He can't resist me and everyone knows it. Just wait and see. I've gotta run. Remember what I said. Stay out of the way. Especially mine," she walked away, her heels tapping the concrete floor as she did.
I felt like someone had hollowed me out with a spoon or something. I was completely gutted and hollowed out. Why in the world would Jon leave her for me? She was far prettier and thinner. They saw each other more often too, of that I was certain. What did I have that she didn't? I wanted to do as Renee had said and stay out of the way. I especially didn't want to run into her again. Part of me didn't want to run into Jon either. I didn't want him to see me upset. I didn't want to have to explain to him why all of a sudden I was down and in the mood to completely destroy myself and everything around me. A fight would ensue and I didn't want to argue with him. Instead I went to catering and fixed myself a plate of food. I found a secluded area in the corner away from everyone else and picked over my food.
"Michy," a chipper voice said from behind me. I looked up in time to see Colby's gap-toothed grin as he slid into the chair across from me. I gave him a weak smile and went back to staring at my plate.
"What's the matter sweetheart?" Colby asked, his voice softening. The happy-go-lucky tone was gone and he sounded genuinely concerned. I wanted to trust him but I was apprehensive. Maybe I didn't really give him enough credit. I took a deep breath and looked up.
"Can I trust you?" I asked.
"Yeah. I mean, I know we've never really talked but I'm a good listener. What's on your mind?" he replied. I'd never really looked at Colby before. He was really adorable, kind of like a puppy; he had curly black hair adorned with a thick blonde section on the right side of his head. It was all pulled back into a bun at the base of his skull, frizz and baby hairs sticking out everywhere. He had been wearing a snapback with a band name embroidered on the front, but he had politely removed it when he sat down to eat and placed it on his knee. His brown eyes were hidden behind rectangular black plastic glasses.
"I…met Renee a little bit ago," I started.
"Uh oh," he said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. He took a large bite of a sandwich he'd made and encouraged me to go on.
"She got pissed at me because I ran into her and then said Jon downgraded. She said he'd leave me for someone better or he'd come back to her. And I'm already so insecure it just…it kind of made me start thinking, ya know? What if he does meet someone better? What if he meets someone prettier and thinner and more into all the outdoorsy things he likes to do? What if he goes back to her because he can see her five days a week?" I rambled.
Colby shook his head.
"Jon loves you dude. He talks about you all the time; how wonderful you are to him and how he's never felt this way before. There's no way he'd ever go back to her. And I doubt he finds anyone else he'd ever rather be with. Trust me. I'm around him all the time. You're his girl. Nothing is gonna change that," he told me.
"Thanks Colby," I replied.
"Anytime," he grinned at me.