Accidental Love

Chapter 2

He was like the guy of my dreams and I had just woken him up. Shit.

I looked around the room before looking back at him. I noticed that he wasn't actually crazy but he was funny, he was like a teen almost even though he was 29, "I'm sorry."

Jonathan looked at me, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "Don't be, Astrid," he rubbed his right eye, yawning. "Its ok, really."

"Ok . . .if you say so, Jon." I shifted on my feet, looking down at my galaxy converses, seeing that they were untied, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear.

He chuckled. I glanced up at him briefly, to find him watching me with a lopsided grin plastered on his face. "How old are you, Astrid?"

I looked up at him, licking my lips. "Um, 26."

"Huh, you look way younger then that. I swear I thought you were, like, 20 or something."

I shook my head. "Nope, I'm 26 and I will be until December."

His interest perked up instantly, he sat up more and got into a more comfortable angle. "What day in December?"

I hesitated, should I really give him this much personal information? I just met him last night, I don't know him, personally anyway. Before I could make my final decision I blurted it out, "sixth, December 6, 1988."

"December seventh, 1985. Three years older then you almost right on the dot."

Ok is it just me or is it kinda creepy that I almost share the same birthday as Dean Ambrose?

"Creepy coincidence." I said bluntly, lifting my chin a little, and turning around to the table, pulling out a chair and started tying my shoe laces.

Jon laughed, falling back into his chair. I couldn't help but crack a smile and blush, my face burning.

"I guess, are you hungry?"

I cleared my throat and transferred my attention up to him and shrugged, sitting up so I could see him. "Yeah, but I can buy something when I leave . . ."

"Ooor," he said thinking, or making it dramatic, of suggesting his idea of the situation of food. "I could get you something."

I sighed, bending back down to tie my other shoe. "And where would you get it?"

"Downstairs."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "Downstairs?"

He nodded. "We're in my suite that I share with Roman and Seth."

"Joe and Colby?" I sat up, staring at him worriedly. "Did they see me? Please say they didn't. And how did I get here?"

"Yeah them, you still surprise me when you say our real names. And no, they didn't see you, they were at a party till, like, one in the morning, so they were too tired to see you on the couch, and I'm guessing that they just went straight to the door and downstairs earlier." He looked a little sheepish as he continued to my last question. "Uh, how you got here? Well, you fell asleep in the locker room and I couldn't leave you there, and I didn't know which car was yours, so I carried you to mine and took you home with me." He looked down at his still bandaged hands, looking nervous.

Man he must of been so exhausted last night, he had a match, then ran into me right after that, hung out with me until WWE was over then worrying what to do with me, looked for my car, carried me to his car, probably had to carry me up some stairs - God I hope this place has a elevator - and finally dumped me on the couch, he actually took the time to take my shoes and jacket off. No wonder he was still dressed in those sweaty clothes, only caring to take off his jacket.

I grimaced.

I felt really guilty. . . and tingling.

"Oh, I'm so sorry that I took your time last night, Jon." I sighed, one thing I hated most was wasting other people's time. I messed up my hair by dragging my hand through it. "God I'm sorry."

I dug into my jacket pocket, searching for my keys, I found them and pulled out my phone and winced.

48 missed calls and 198 messages. All from Cassandra.

I hissed, slowly putting it back in my pocket. "I'm so dead."

"Why?" He got up and approached me. I looked up at him, with a sad expression.

"48 missed calls and 198 new text messages all from the same number. So yeah I'm dead the next time I see Cassandra."

"Cassandra?"

"My dumb-ass friend that got arrested last night." I explained, going to a mirror that was on the wall, fixing my hair so it looked less like I had just woken up. I looked at Jon through the mirror as he watched me, that's when it hit me. 'Why am I still here?'

I turned around from putting my hair up in a ponytail, sighing. "I need to go, Jonathan."

He nodded. "Ok . . ." he looked a little sad, which surprised me. "Ok, I'll take you back to the arena so you can get your car." Licking his lips he bit his bottom one and looked up at the high ceiling, nodding.

I couldn't help but feel bad that I had made him sad. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and looked down, nervously. "Ok, can you do me a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Can you maybe change your clothes?"

It was silent and I looked up at Jon, he was staring at me, mouth faintly parted, thinking of something to say. He made a faint noise.

I narrowed my eyes curiously at him.

The noise he was making came again, getting louder.

My eyes widened a degree when I realized what the noise was. Was . . .was he laughing?

Oh god he is.

I smiled halfheartedly at him.

"Ok." He said sobering a bit. "Let me change then we're outta here."

I nodded, expelling a heavy breath, watching him go to his room, still chuckling to himself.

'How was that funny?'