Chapter 26 Margeaux
MARGEAUX
I have been smiling non-stop for the last week.
Jon went back to Paramount the morning after our whirlwind evening, and we haven’t stopped talking since he left.
Well, he’s not able to text a lot while he’s at work, and I’m not near my phone during training, but outside of that, we’re texting, doing quick phone calls.
He video called me to have breakfast with me this morning.
How fucking sweet is this guy? It should be illegal for a guy to be this nice.
I never would have thought I’d fall for such a wholesome guy.
I should bring him to Jacky’s wedding as my date.
My mom will adopt him on the spot, and I’ll be redeemed for all of my rebellious behavior.
“What’s got you smiling all big and bright, Marg?” Jazz asks, knocking her elbow into my side.
I grin, knowing I look like a total fool.
Whatever. I like Doctor Jon. He’s smart, funny, and he fucking cares about me.
What more can a girl ask for? Oh yea. He’s also a savant at eating pussy.
He had me in tears from the number of orgasms he gave me with his tongue.
I was worried I looked like a Great Dane smothering a Beagle, but two minutes of having Jon between my legs, pushed all those worries away.
Jon admitted that me getting off is what gets him off.
He thought he was being sly, but I watched him steal a pair of my panties before he left my apartment at the crack of dawn yesterday.
Doctor Jon is a naughty boy and I’m so here for it.
I love that I’m bringing out the bad side of him.
“No one.” I swat Jazz’s hand away and fill my plate with food in the training facility’s cafeteria.
“I asked what, not who. You sexy slut! Who are you getting with?!” she chirps almost loud enough for the entire cafeteria to hear. She covers her mouth with her hands, her eyes are two bright beams of inquiry. Her feet are stomping in place, antsy to hear the details. She’s like a little kid.
“Food first. I can’t think about anything else until I get some calories in me.”
Training has been ramping up. This week’s match-up is going to be crazy. Jazz and I are doing a tag-team event against Eva and Sasha . It’s already being promoted on social media like crazy and fans are predicting we have this win in the bag. It’s going to be our best match to date.
The big part about entertainment wrestling is the storyline.
Our personas are involved in a world of their own.
The rivalries exist in the ring only. Sure, Eva and her girls on the Glam Squad can be annoying at times, but that’s just part of the competitive nature of our sport.
We’re all competing for permanent spots on the network.
If the crowd doesn’t like your character– if you’re showing no growth—you’re out.
I let the incident in Paramount knock me off my game for a couple weeks, but I’m back and focused and ready to make a splash in this tag team match.
“Okay, details, details, details. Who is it?” Jazz asks. I haven’t even touched my fries yet and she’s grilling me. “Is it Freddy?! He’s such a big bear. I bet he could even throw you around.”
I smile and drink my water, not giving her any information.
“No. Not him. He’s slept with half the girls here.
Too much of a player for you. You talk a big game, but you’re a softy at heart.
” She winks at me. She’s totally right. I like to have fun and do my own thing, but I guess why I like Jon so much is because I know he isn’t trying to play games.
He says what he means, and he follows it up with actions. I can trust him.
“Hmmm…Is it one of the rookies? That guy with the long, curly hair? He seems your type.”
“And what’s my type, Jazz?” I ask, curious to hear her take on me.
“Honestly. I dunno, girl,” she laughs. “I haven’t seen you with many guys.
I know you like fit guys. You finished college, so I’d imagine you want someone who has some type of smarts.
That’s tough around here. These guys have had their heads punched, kicked, and slammed so many times, they’re one concussion away from being permanently stupid. ”
I laugh so hard, water drips out of my nose. “What does that say about Travis?”
“You know me. I’m a sucker for a big dummy. He keeps things simple. I’m not looking for anything serious. Plus, the sex. Marg! The sex! That man should change his stage name to The Machine. I swear. He could outlast my vibrator!”
I’m going to run out of water if she keeps talking about Travis the Machine.
“Spill it! Who are you hooking up with?” Fuck, I was hoping she had distracted herself enough to forget what we were talking about.
“Nobody you know.” I feel my cheeks flush and my clit throbs just thinking about my night with Jon. What has this man done to me?
“Ohhh? Did you actually meet some guy in that preppy beach paradise?” She drops her fork, and her eyes widen with realization. “Wait…It’s not that nerdy doctor with a girlfriend, is it?!”
Yes.
“It’s not like that. I’m just having some fun. It’s not serious,” I say, hoping my voice sounds casual and flippant.
“Bullshit! You don’t blush like that over nobody. Come on, Marg. You can trust me. Who is he? What’s his deal?”
I let out a deep breath and stare across the table at my best friend. “His name is Jon.”
“And!?” Jazz exclaims, drawing a bunch of eyes and confused looks from the other athletes.
“Lock it up, Jazz. Or I’m done talking,” I warn her.
She holds her hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Fuck.” She leans in closer. “You bagged a doctor? Like a real doctor?
“Yea. He’s a real doctor. What? Am I not good enough to attract a doctor?” I ask, feeling defensive and slightly—okay, very—self-conscious.
“Oh no. You’re a total babe, Marg. You’re like a punk rock super model. I just didn’t think nerdy doctors were your type. Or that, a preppy doctor would go for an aggressive badass such as yourself.
I can’t fault her for her honesty. I thought the same things.
Jon and I are complete opposites. In every way possible.
Yet, somehow. “We just click,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.
“And his tongue needs to be studied by science. I almost blacked out from the number of orgasms he gave me with that blessed appendage.”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up!” Jazz starts giggling like a little kid. “When do I get to meet the guy who stole your heart, and your pussy?”
It’s my turn to giggle. “Calm down. He’s already back in Paramount.
He works with sick kids. We had our fun, but I don’t think anything serious can really come from this.
” I haven’t spoken those words aloud, but now that I’ve said them, I don’t want to believe them.
But, seriously, what future could Jon and I really have?
We’re just too different. We live completely different lives.
And neither of us is willing to give up our careers, or ask the other to do so. So, is this even worth pursuing?
“Don’t go sabotaging something good just because it’s scary.”
“Scary? I’m not scared. I’m just being honest. He’s a fucking doctor. He saves little kids’ lives for a living. I throw around other women while dressed in spandex. Not exactly a perfect match, ya know?”
“Sounds like a great match to me. I mean, yea. It’s cool dating other wrestlers because they understand the sport and the business.
But wrestling isn’t forever. Fuck, we may not even get our contracts extended after this season.
So, what’s wrong with pursuing a relationship with a person who likes to do more than body slam people?
Unless, of course, it’s your body he’s slamming. ” Jazz winks at me.
I laugh even harder. “He wishes. Did I forget to mention he’s only like an inch taller than you?”
Jazz’s jaw drops. Her eyes are so wide, I’m surprised her fake lashes are hanging on.
“I have so many questions,” she begins.
I hold up my hand and bring my index, middle, and ring finger to touch my thumb at the same time.
Signaling for her to shut her mouth. “We’re done talking about him.
I need to eat.” I grab one of my fries, dip it in ketchup and shove the whole thing into my mouth, moaning around the crunchiness and salty flavor.
I look down and notice a glob of ketchup on my sports bra. Everytime!
“You’re no fun!” Jazz pouts but lets it go and starts eating her own food, including her pasta which is still piping hot. “Ah, fuck! Hot!” she garbles around the food in her mouth.
We’re such a goofy mess.
Tonight’s our tag-team match. The arena is sold-out; over three thousand fans are screaming and cheering for the opening matches. Ashleigh confirmed that thousands more will be watching the match on TV, and streaming it.
“This is going to be an epic match,” Eva says. She and Sasha, her partner, are dressed in matching pink two-piece outfits. Their hair is perfectly styled with soft curls, and bright, pastel colors adorn their eyes, and matching pink lipstick completes their looks.
“If this match goes the way we’ve been practicing, there’s no way the four of us aren’t getting permanent contracts,” Sasha says, giving her hair a fresh spray of hairspray.
I step away from the fumes and give my outfit one last check.
A studded bikini top with cheeky bottoms that have half my ass hanging out.
My knee-high boots kiss my fishnet tights that have the ink on my leg popping.
My long hair curtains my face which has dark colors to contrast the Glam Squad’s motif.
Blacks, blues, and dark purples. I give my lips a final coating of my metallic blue lipstick and feel like the most powerful human on the fucking planet.
“Like we practiced—let’s make each other look good tonight. We know the outcome, but there are plenty of opportunities for each of us to shine tonight,” I remind the group.
The three of them nod in agreement.
“We’ll go out first, get the crowd loud and rowdy,” Jazz says, pointing at me.
“Then we’ll come out and knock them all back. Be ready for us to come out hot,” Sasha says, popping a piece of bubble gum in her mouth. Part of her schtick is to blow giant bubbles of gum during her matches. It’s actually caught on amongst her fans, and they all blow giant gum bubbles.
The doors to our staging area open and slam shut.
“You ladies ready?!” Dahlia asks excitedly as she slaps her hands together. She’s been pivotal in helping us get the choreography perfect for tonight.
“Fucking born ready,” Jazz says, stretching her neck from side to side.
“This is going to be so good,” Eva says with a wicked smile.
“I love ya ladies, but I’m gonna hurt ya,” I promise them, sticking my tongue out like a little kid.
“It’s show time, ladies!” Dahlia cheers.
Jazz and I exit the staging area and ACDC’s song, If You Want Blood, starts blasting throughout the entire arena.