Jaded by her fiancé's disinterest in her ambitions to become a professional wrestler, Delilah Parrish's life takes an interesting turn when one of WWE's top names offers her the support she's not getting at home.
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The alarm on her phone had never sounded so loud before. Ever. It was a battle for Delilah to untangle herself from the sheets, grope around the bed for the pesky phone and disable the offensive sound. Cracking one eye open, then cringing at how bright the phone screen was, she glanced at the time and groaned.Five-thirty already? Jesus.
Throwing the sheets off of herself, Delilah struggled to blink her eyes against the darkness as she ran down her mental morning checklist, which mainly consisted of excuses to remain in the comfort of her bed. She'd been doing so ever since she began her training as a wrestler, but no matter how she tried, nothing seemed to be ever good enough, especially when she had two jobs awaiting her each day. And speaking of...the feel of the air conditioning against her skin reminded her that the light bill had to be paid in some form or the other, and soon.
Rolling out of bed, she winced as her feet touched the floor. The smoke had cleared and every muscle in her body now ached from her match the night before. Every ache would be worth it though, if she could experience the same exhilarating feeling she did in the aftermath – the applause, the plaudits, the attention. She only wished her husband-to-be didn't have to fuck it all up last night by bringing her crashing back down to earth.
In all honesty, inviting Tank and Jey to her home after her match had been a deliberate act on her part. Part of her had wanted Andre to be happy for her, and to realize that other people supported her. But deep down, another part just wanted revenge for all of the late-night boys' nights he and his friends had shared while she herself was trying to get some rest. She really wanted to feel guilty for being selfish and retaliating, but after the way he'd disrespected her last night, feeling bad was a hard sell for her right now.
She tensed up when she heard the bathroom door open. His footsteps were soft and cautious, and as he appeared in front of her looking haggard in ragged jeans and a flannel shirt, he was rubbing his hand over his face. "Mornin'," he mumbled, raising his tired eyes to hers and cringing at her angry expression. "Look...about last night," he started.
"Ugh, here we go," she rolled her eyes, wincing a little as she hauled her aching body off the bed and stood upright.
Andre followed her every move, his shoulders sagged dejectedly. "Babe, I'm tryna apologize here."
