Lost then Found:A Dean Ambrose FanFicition

Chapter Twenty-Four: From the Basement to the Kitchen

Thursday night had belonged to the heels. Ratings had climbed just a little, reaching 3.2 million viewers instead of the usual 2.7 million. It was a good sign that things were finally starting make a change for the better. There was hardly any backstage gossip about the teeter-tottering financial situation. But any time some did happen to bring it up, it was always something positive. Triple H was very pleased with the way things were going. Stephanie, on the other hand, was still the same.

I had not seen Jon since the end of Smackdown. I wanted to go to the live events with him over the weekend to be with him, but he insisted that I stay home and get some rest. He promised that if he could find my house without getting lost on Sunday, he would make the drive from Providence and we would spend the whole day together. But not the night.  And as much as the topic had irritated him, he insisted that we would cross that bridge whenever we would come to it, which would hopefully be a month or two before now. We were both more than happy to take baby steps.

Nobody yet knew of our relationship. Even Paige and Trinity had not picked up on the signs. I felt bad for not telling them, but to be fair, I did have to wait at least a week before I could say anything. Dating someone after so long meant that we had to go over ground rules. Privacy was the main key. Details of our real-life relationship were to be kept off the Internet. I was okay with this. Privacy was a valued thing to me. 

I tossed and turned for about half an hour, paced in front of my bed for about fifteen minutes, and tapped rhythmically on the headboard until I was tired enough.

When I woke up, it was two-thirty in the afternoon. My phone was cold to the touch when I picked it up. There were two missed calls and one new voicemail. And the voicemail sent me into panic mode.

"Hey, it's Jon. Uh, I'm at the airport, and my phone died so I'm using one of the payphones so don't freak out when you see a weird number,okay? I'm waiting waiting for a taxi to come here, and I'll most likely be there around...oh...three o'clock.So I'll be there soon, alright?"

"OH SHIT!" I had never ran for my closet so fast in my life.

It was too cold to wear my favorite white sundress, so I threw that on the floor. A belly shirt was definitely out of the question. Paige's plaid shirt couldn't be worn. By the time I had finally settled on a purple flannel shirt, black skinny jeans, and a pair of black socks, it was already 2:55. My hair wasn't even fixed nor was there any makeup on my face. I looked a wreck. After tripping and landing on my pile of clothes, I went to the bathroom and pulled my hair into a bun.

I nearly was almost finished applying concealer when the deep-sounding doorbell echoed throughout the house. What resembled a scream escaped my lips as I threw down the concealer and ran for the stairs. I nearly fell down them, but the bannister was sturdy enough to withstand my sloth-like grip. Once I reached the door, I looked through the peephole and smiled: Jon was sitting on the steps with his luggage next to him. The sun was catching in his hair.

"Don't sit out there all day long," I ordered, leaning casually against the door frame. "You'll catch a cold."

Jon turned to look at me and smirked. 

We met halfway, falling into a warm embrace. I pulled his head down so that I could kiss his lips. "I've missed you, Ambrose." I sometimes called him Ambrose when I felt too lazy to say Jon. He hated that, but I didn't care.

Jon grinned, giving me another kiss before he let go of me. "You too, Cena. You too."

After giving Jon the majority of the grand tour of my home, we ventured down to the basement, which had been converted into a home gym slash lazy space. The stairs creaked beneath our feet. Dust flew up occasionally. But the wood still felt smooth as it touched my palms. I hated almost every other room in the house except for the basement. Nothing bad ever happened down here.