A Man of Service A John Wick Fanfic

Chapter 6

T/W – drinking, adult situations, swearing

After the show, Kate looked in the mirror of the dressing room, her band mates still crowded behind her. She freshened her make-up, pulled her hair up on top of her head, immediately cooling her neck and ironed her dress out with both hands.

"Where you goin' Princess?" James asked her in his usual sarcastic tone.

"Where men dare not go...," she shot back with a grin, grabbing her handbag and heading for the door. "Goodnight, gentlemen," she announced, jokingly. "it's been a pleasure doing business with you."

As she exited the dressing room, she immediately saw John, whose back was to her. Kate took a long breath and nervously pulled on her dress, her eyes following the contour of his strong, broad back to a thin waist and down his long legs.

Kate never did this. She was the cautious type, preferring long friendships that turn into love rather than this instant, passionate, all consuming attraction. It kept her off balance, which simultaneously excited her and panicked her. Had he asked her to go with him to his room, she shocked herself by admitting the truth. She would have gone. "Safety Last!" she laughed to herself. Maybe he'd take her to paradise before hacking her to death; at least she die happy and exhausted.

She was still trying to stifle a giggle when John turned in her direction and their eyes met. They regarded each other with warmth and affection as the back stage teemed with people walking between and around them. Neither one noticed. Kate's instinct was to run to him and throw her arms around this nearly complete stranger and a shiver went down her spine, goosebumps appearing on her arms.

John began to walk towards her slowly, zigging and zagging around people and props. Her heart fluttered and she wanted to pound on her own chest to get it to stop. Soon, they were toe to toe, their eyes fixed on each other. Kate lifted her face as he leaned into her and their lips met tenderly, sweetly, for an affectionate kiss. Oblivious to the crowd around them, their lips met again, more needy this time, both of them feeling the relief from the unyielding, searing pain of loneliness. When they stepped back, acknowledgement in smiles broke out on their faces as John tucked her under his arm and led her to the upstairs lounge, away from the noise and chaos of the downstairs bar.

They sat down on the plush, red sofa near the fireplace, close to each other as if they were already lovers and talked in low, sometimes intense, whispers. Hearing John ask her questions in his smooth, baritone voice relaxed her and made her wish life could be like this forever. It was if they had done this dozens of times before, feeling the comfort of his arm pressed against hers. Kate noticed that he seemed to evade the questions she asked him about his life, although he was filled with inquiries about her own.

Over a second glass of wine, they fell into a comfortable silence until John said softly, "I was married before but she passed away about 5, maybe 6 now, years ago."

"I'm so very sorry," Kate said tenderly, looking up into his pained eyes.

"I swore I'd live to remember her, to remember the life we had," he continued, his face tilted toward the floor. "But things seem to be harder and harder to remember. They seem to be shaded in fog. Her smile. The way she combed her hair. How we were together. Just day to day things...making breakfast, going out for dinner, her perfume...I just can't seem to recall with any distinctness. It's all becoming a jumble of snapshots."

"I think it's our subconscious protecting us," she said, gently. "If we remembered everything as if it was yesterday, we'd never be able to move forward and have a life. We'd constantly be living in the past."