Ch18

Honor

I tried to end it, he wouldn't let go. Shocking. You would think a guy like him would love the fact that he can have any girl he wants because he's not tied down. As of right now I'd just like to get over that part and just move on. Randy has called me every day through my recovery process: five months, three weeks, and four days. I only answered once to let him know I'm okay but aside for that all calls were ignored. All nerves aside the break was nice but I'm aching to get back to work, I breathe deep as I step out of my car. There weren't too many fans outside because it is like twelve thirty noon, not even all of the Superstars are here.

"You're back, Pooka!" The tall man behind me scoops me up in a giant bear hug, sans his shirt. All I saw for a few seconds was a blur of ink on his chest then I realize it's Punk so I squeeze him back.

"Hi! I guess I'm forgiven?" I grin widely as he sets me down on my feet and he grabs my luggage from me while I'm yanking it out of my rental.

"You're forgiven! Since you burnt the bridge between you and Orton I see you're traveling alone…" I stare at him incredibly, waving at people that haven't seen me in a while.

"How did you know about that?"

"A little birdie told me…"

"Avery," I mutter, "…can't keep her mouth shut to hold water, can she?" I roll my eyes, as we pass Big Show's bus and weave through the other parked trailers and RVs.

"Ha you know she can't!" Punk holds up his finger asking for a moment then pushes open the door to his bus and ducks in for some reason. He reappears with a hoodie on then shuts the door and we slowly make our way to the building. He scratches the back of his neck looking a tad uncomfortable, "So I just want to get this out of the way…You know that whole thing about me going off on you… I'm sorry for that. I didn't mean that and I said some really awful things."

"You're forgiven and thank you," I tiptoe up to him and kiss his furry cheek. "But I'm still missing another apology…" I clutch my arms under my chest.

"And that would be?" He cocks an eyebrow, immediately turning slightly defensive.

"The apology over your comments on my relationship with Randy," my foot taps as I wait patiently for him to swallow his pride just once and admit he was wrong. "What Randy and I do or did together is none of your business. Just like yours and Avery's fling is not any of my business."

"No. You are right but it is none of my business but I felt it was necessary. You didn't deserve that. I simply stated my opinion on the matter and called you out on it." He looked me square in the eye and continued, "I no longer think you're sleeping with him just to get a spot, but I do think you could choose someone who's not him. Find anyone but him."

"You mean find you," I muse.

Too quickly he shakes his head, "No I don't mean me."

"Okay well, whatever your reason for worrying about me just know you don't have to worry I don't want a relationship with another wrestler… Or at least one I work with."

"Now that we've settled that… I'm going to the trainer's station. Avery's in the bus still sleeping," he nods in the direction we just traveled.

"Eh, I'll see her when she wakes up. I don't think she wants to wake up to her death so soon anyway." I scowl which causes Punk to chuckle and shake his head.

"Eww, Gatorade is disgusting," I say swallowing a giant gulp and picking around my salad eating all the spinach first, saving the chicken to eat last.

"It is not the best thing around. It's okay…" Punk points his fork at me, it has a floret of broccoli on the end of it.

"It's not good for me," he shakes his head with an exasperated sigh, "that stuff tastes like salt, sweat yeah sweat."

"Sweat?" he smirks at me.

"Yes. Sex sweat." I grin brightly while blushing. I often humiliate myself because of my own thoughts. Now that I've said it sounds pretty stupid.

He chuckles, between breaths he sputters out, "You…wait… what? What does sex sweat taste like? That sounded stupid."

"This Gatorade. It tastes like Riptide Rush Punk." I get up and go sit in his lap and hold the bottle to his mouth.

"Stop."

"I think you need a sample."

"Stop it Honor," he chuckles, "you're going to embarrass yourself."

"Probably but it doesn't matter. Drink it! Taste the sweat!" I laugh as he playfully seizes my wrists and almost gains control of the bottle, which I jerk my arm away and it causes him to spill the drink all over our laps. I laugh hysterically because now my ragged and worn jeans are all sticky and my Adventure Time shirt is all purple spotted.

"Look at what you did. Now I've got to take a shower before I put my gear on. You do to." He says still smiling as I grab my half eaten salad and toss it in the trash. Punk shrugs out of his jacket and shirt, "Come on so we can get this stuff in the washing machine. You're lucky I'm such a nice guy," He smirks as we head back out the dimple on the side of his face caving.