New To This (Jey Uso)

Chapter 3

Unbelievable. Truly unbelievable.

It's been three hours since her first-ever official wrestling match, and Delilah couldn't stop smiling. It had lasted all of eight minutes, and although she lost, no one could deny that both she and her opponent, Faye, had pulled a showstopper out of thin air. Delilah had only ever attempted a moonsault once in her life, one evening at training when she was feeling adventurous, but tonight, the burst of adrenaline had buoyed her, and it felt so natural being poised on the top rope. To her shock and delight, the crowd had given them a standing ovation when it was over. It was, as far as she could remember, the happiest day of her life. After
Andre's proposal, of course.

She hadn't been this confident at first, though. She remembered being alone in the tiny, dingy locker room, on the verge of throwing up about fifteen minutes before the match. She remembered the loud cheers as the announcer geared the fans up for the upcoming match. She remembered forcing herself out, walking numbly towards the ring, then looking into the crowd and almost tripping on her own feet in shock at the sight of Jey up in the VIP area with Tank, unable to believe he'd actually showed up to watch her. HER! How she worked through the bundle of nerves and emotions, she would never know. But she did. And it was enough to convince her that she could still pursue her dream. That she wasn't walking away from this just yet, because there was hope that she was finally going somewhere with wrestling.

Tank and Jey – she still wasn't comfortable enough to call him Josh – had taken her out to celebrate afterwards. Even after leaving the bar well after midnight, both men didn't seem willing to go home just yet. And Delilah didn't mind.

"Your garden's really nice, uce," Jey observed the small but neat bed of flowers gracing the sides of the front door.

"Thanks! Andre worked hard on it," Delilah beamed on behalf of her fiancé, "Dre's the greatest landscaper in allll of Pensacola, so if you got a lawn that needs spicin' up, hit him up." Stepping over the threshold into her home, she winced at the mini warzone that greeted her. "Sorry for the mess," she murmured sheepishly.

Tank looked around the trailer house and shrugged. "It ain't that bad today. I've seen it in far worse shape," he commented, lowering his huge self onto the old, worn couch in the center of the small living area.

"Damn, thanks Tank," Delilah replied with a roll of her eyes. Way to embarrass her in front of Jey.

The man in question had been silent as he looked around the new environment. "Ignore him, Delilah. I like it," he commented, finally facing her.

The trainee blushed profusely and dumped the bags of takeout they'd bought on the way home on the coffee table. She knew he was only being nice. "Could be better, I know you're not used to tiny spaces like this," she rushed defensively, retreating to the kitchen to grab three Bud Lights from the refrigerator. Surely Jey lived in a far more lavish abode, with all the money he was raking in at WWE. The Bentley Continental GT he drove her and Tank around with tonight was solid evidence. He lived large and her place was no doubt shameful compared to his, wherever that was.

Settling down next to Tank, the huge smile was still glued to her face, her right leg bouncing up and down in excitement. "Oh my god, I'm not sure I'm gonna get any sleep tonight! I still can't believe I wrestled my first real match!"

"Yeah, and we predict it's gonna be the first of many," Tank drank from his beer as Delilah nodded enthusiastically, and he jerked his thumb in Jey's direction. "At least, he thinks so. Right, Uce?"

"Heck yeah," said Jey, observing her over the rim of the silver can of alcohol in his grasp.

Delilah was still in awe that he was here, sitting in her home. It was tough to pretend she wasn't thoroughly enjoying the attention she'd been getting from him the past two days. "You ain't sayin' that just to fuck with me, right?" she asked him blatantly, then cringed at her unwise choice of words.