Chapter 11

"I am the worst house guest, right?" He wasn't surprised at her very emphatic nod, aware she would never, ever let him through her door again after the stunt he pulled. She had forgiven him, sure, but Jon knew she didn't trust him and she was smart for that. Not too smart, obviously, because here she was. "I am an even worst host." Jon did, however, take the drink she had poured for him, toasting her. "Cheers, babe." They clinked glasses and he took a long, slow swallow, savoring the bourbon.

Delilah had great taste, he would have guessed she'd go for the vodka.

Vodka was fine and everything, but there was nothing – NOTHING – like a strong yet smooth bourbon. "I forgave you for what you did, no need to bring it up again." She poured herself another round and moved around the bar to stand beside him, holding her glass up to clink with his again. "To the future and AEW." Delilah had a lot riding on this and she knew Jon did too since this would be his first appearance besides the prison Jon Moxley return video. Alcohol also stemmed her anxiety, kept it settled, which was why she stood as close as she did to Jon, currently. It made her feel a little braver too. "Did they tell you what you'll be doing tomorrow night on the show?" When he told her he was coming out at the very end of the night, after the match between Chris Jericho and Kenny Omega for the coveted AEW World Heavyweight championship, Delilah took a long swig of her bourbon. "I see, so a run-in, shock the audience, bust heads and go to the back leaving them wanting more. Sounds legit." She finished her second drink off and set her tumbler down, starting to feel better. "They had me going against Brandi, but it was changed and now I'm in a fatal four-way match with Britt Baker, Nyla Rose and Kylie Rae. Should be interesting."

"Should be." He echoed, watching as she took another sip. "Not going to pass out down here, are you?" Jon smirked, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement when she snorted and shook her head. "Here, you sit," He nudged her towards the vacant stool and then moved behind the bar. "And I'll play bartender, since I'm supposed to be a gracious host." He sat his elbows on the counter, leaning in towards her.

Delilah drinking and spending the night here; he hadn't counted on her drinking, though the way he figured it, alcohol lowered people's defenses. That was something he needed, for her to lower her defenses. Slowly, surely, it was working as she stared back at him, taking the tumbler he slid to her, but didn't take a drink out of it. The first two were because she needed to take the edge off the stressful day she'd had thus far. Now, however, Delilah would nurse the others and pulled her gaze away from the handsome man behind the bar to look around the recreational room.

"Let's turn some music on. This silence shit doesn't do anything for me. Do you mind?" When he shook his head, Delilah grinned and left her drink on the bar to head over to the sound system, turning it on.

There was a classic rock station on, and they were playing Pink Floyd at the moment, which was fine. Delilah doubted Jon would go for Christian rock or any type of Christian station on his radio, so classic rock would be fine. It was music they had both grown up on and classics never got old.

"How about a game of pool?" She went to grab one of the pool sticks and wound up knocking the rest of them from the holder they were in against the wall. "What the HELL?!"

"What the fuck, Del?" Jon could only gape at her, wondering if she was serious. "You know, it's a GOOD thing you didn't take my offer for borrowing a car, you'd fucking wreck it or something." That would suck, they were all fully insured, including the 'additional driver', but still, he LIKED his toys. "I should take yougamblin', see what kind of fuckery your luck does to those around us." He passed her a pool stick. "You break."

"Hey! It's not MY fault they gave me shitty rental cars, okay?" Jon was allowing her to break, what a gentleman. "Turn whatever kind of music you want on. I know you like classic rock, but if you want something else on, feel free. I don't know how to work your system that well." Racking the balls up, she pulled the holder away and then eyeballed her shot, deciding to go at an angle. And wound up sending the eight ball right into the farthest corner pocket. "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!" She gaped, tossing the pool cue on the table and shook her head. "You know what? I need another drink and then bed. I need to sleep and wake up because this day has been NOTHING except bad fucking luck for me today." Who the HELL lost the game on the BREAK?

Jon was going to piss himself laughing. He dropped his stick to hold his ribs because he was laughing so hard. "What the actual fuck wasthat,babe?!" He rasped as he walked around the table to catch her before she could go get another drink. "Come on. I'll take you to dinner and buy you more drinks." Maybe see what else her shit luck would impact!

"So fucking glad I could be amusing to you." She muttered, not appreciating being laughed at and shook her head, not wanting to leave the house. "No, I'm not leaving here until tomorrow arrives." This had been a horrible, awful, surreal day and sinking the eight ball right out the gate was further proof she needed this day to END. "I'm done with pool and drinking. I'm going to take a bath and go to bed." Delilah kissed his cheek, having to lean up on her tiptoes since he towered over her by a good foot and patted the stubble. "Thanks again for everything, Jon." Cracking a small smile, she headed up the stairs to her designated room, hoping a hot bath soothed her.

Jon followed her, wondering if she was serious. It wasn't even that late in the day and this buzzing, unlucky broad wanted to go to bed. "Dellll…baby…" He jokingly whined. "You and I both know you won't ever stay with me again, so let me buy you dinner. Let me show you MY Vegas and we'll turn your luck around." He flashed her a genuine smile when Delilah glanced at him, blue eyes crinkled at the corners.

She opened her mouth to protest, to decline again, but one look in those gorgeous pale blues full of electricity and mirth…Delilah couldn't deny him anything. Walking back down a few steps, she stood in front of him, eye to eye, because of the stair heights. The anxiety wasn't there, and neither was the nervous energy she always felt when she was around Jon.

"You're a pain in my ass, Good." Delilah murmured, placing a hand on his broad shoulder and felt warmth shoot up her arm instantly. "Okay, what place are you taking me to? Do I need to change for it or is what I'm wearing all right?"

"Jeans and a nice pair of shoes, darlin.'" That'd be smoking hot and satisfy the dress code, even with her open backed top. "Meet me by the front door in ten, Del." Or else he'd come looking for her and given where they were, it wasn't like she had a lot of places to run and hide. Humming under his breath, Jon went to go change his own top.

Frowning, Delilah didn't know why he wanted her to wear jeans, especially when Vegas in May, going into June. It was scorching outside and he wanted her legs covered? Groaning, she went upstairs to do as he requested and slipped her black wedges on since they were comfortable to walk in. She decided to change her shirt, pulling on a form-fitting short-sleeved red blouse since the jeans were black. Looking in the mirror, she decided to redo her hair, leaving a few tendrils on either side of her face. She also did her makeup – foundation, black liner and red shimmery gloss. The buzz was slowly tampering off and Delilah was starting to come to the realization she had agreed to go out to dinner with Jon. It was just food, nothing more, nothing less.

Talking down her anxiety, she walked out of the bedroom and headed downstairs just as Jon came up to apparently check on her. "Sorry, I know you said ten minutes, but I needed a little more time to get ready…"

"And it's very well worth the extra time." Jon took a moment to look her over, having switched out his beater for a white V-neck, Henley shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his elbows.

He had even touched up the deodorant and his cologne, which was subtle because he didn't want to smell like a whore, but if someone was close to him, body to body, they would smell how delicious he was. If Jon told her where he was taking her, she would have said no outright and there would be air-conditioner in his car and where they were going. The three minutes of outside time would be all right and, admittedly, he was used to the heat.

"Let's go." He checked to make sure his wallet was in his pocket before extending his arm to her with a grin.

"This isn't a date, Moxley." Delilah wanted to make that perfectly clear, seeing the impish gleam in his eyes and reluctantly hooked her arm through his, allowing him to guide her out of the house. Breathe, just breathe, she mentally coached, really wishing her buzz was still going strong because being sober, with this man, and that damn tilted hat of his…it was setting her blood on fire.

It was setting her on fire from the inside out, actually. Jon opened the door for her and she hopped into his truck, having her own wallet in her back jean pocket. Just in case something went haywire and she had to bail, Delilah had her own funds and license to get from point A to B.

"So, where are you taking me, Mr. Mysterious?"

"I'm not obligated to tell you, Miss This Isn't A Date." He shot back with an amused grin. "You're fine, Del, just relax and enjoy the ride." Given she was still buzzing and he planned on feeding her more drinks, but not TOO many since they did have a MAJOR day tomorrow, Jon wanted to keep her this way, between sober and drunk. It was a happy medium and if he could get her out of her mood, her funk, he had an inkling his silver haired vixen would be a lot of fun. "I have a favorite casino, and they have a restaurant." All of them did, obviously. "Best food on the Strip."

Her stomach lurched painfully, reminding her she hadn't ate since on the plane earlier that morning. Casino or not, at least they would have food and booze, so she was fine with it. "Sounds good. And it's NOT a date." Delilah needed to drive that point home.

They were just two friends having dinner together and Jon had helped her out. Rubbing her palms against her jeans, light brown eyes once again looked out at the scenery flying by while Jon headed into the City of Lights. Her eyes widened at the sheer beauty Vegas possessed, all the lights and her anxiety, her nervousness, melted away to be replaced with sheer awe.

"Wow." Never had she seen anything like this because, in all the years she'd been in the Indies, never had she wrestled in this particular city.

It was a date. Well, if he could convince her to take a roll of quarters and see what happened on slots, then he wouldn't call it a date; he'd call it hilarious. Her bad luck couldn't be THAT bad, right? Delilah was just having an off day and he was going to remedy that for her that the gentleman he was.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it, I'm too good for you anyway, Del." He teased, catching her rolling her eyes and her gaze remained firmly on the Strip, the lights. If she'd let him, he'd show her the night of her life. They could sleep in tomorrow before the show.

How often would she be here, in the City of Sin, with him?

Jon could think what he wanted and if the fact he was better than her, helped him sleep better at night, all the power to him. Delilah knew he was and he didn't have to tell her that or even joke about it. She lived in a one-bedroom apartment while he had a huge house that could be called a mansion. "This is breathtaking."

Her light brown eyes glittered in the lights as Jon continued driving, dealing with Vegas traffic. About a half hour later, since traffic was horrible tonight, they arrived at the casino of Jon's choice and he guided her inside, arm in arm. They were shown to a private table in the VIP section, thanks to Jon flashing some kind of badge and she idly wondered how much Jon came here to have VIP access.

"I take it back – THIS place is breathtaking."

"May I get you and your lady something to drink to start out with, sir?"

Who the hell talked like that?

People who served rich and/or famous VIPs spoke like that and, in Vegas, that was pretty much everyone. If someone looked like they had money, they were instantly respected. If someone actually DID have money, they had respect AND power. Jon ordered himself a bottle of what was probably expensive tap water and a Long Island Iced Tea, something strong and something he wouldn't chug because he knew it was good for making him blitzed in a heartbeat. Damned if it wasn't good though.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, babe, try it. It's not as…weak as it sounds."

"Would your lady like the same?"

"My friend will order for herself." Jon corrected, knowing Delilah probably wouldn't appreciate this douchebag.

"Actually, I'll take a double bourbon on the rocks, thanks." Delilah didn't want to be disrespectful in Jon's favorite casino, so she decided to keep her smarminess to a minimum. For his sake. The waiter walked away to grab their drinks and she kept looking around the place before finally settling her gaze back on Jon. "I feel really underdressed here." She admitted, reaching over to take his tea when he offered it to her to try it. "Oh wow…" That tasted like tea, but she could also taste all the different liquor in it as well. "That is very good, I might have to get one before the night is out."

"Only one," He laughed softly, a hint of caution in his tone. "I can make these bad boys at home, though. Well, actually, I'll be your DD." She needed one, deserving to get toasted after the day she had. "He'll bring back a menu in a few, so order whatever looks good." Jon let his eyes rake over her, shaking his head because she was not underdressed. Well, yes and no. "Look over in the corner," He shifted so he was nearer her, eyes darting to the spot. "Look at that piece of cloth she's wearing." Glittery and gold, she looked like a hooker by Cincinnati standards, but here that was normal. "You're PERFECT, Delilah."

A flush developed in her cheeks and spread down her neck at his compliment, suddenly realizing how close he was to her, especially when she turned her head to meet his eyes. "Thank you." She cleared her throat, trying to cool herself down and the waitress came just in the nick of time, setting her drink down on the table.

Jon moved back to where he was and they toasted before she took a long swig of it, letting the bourbon burn down her throat.