“Oh. So because it’s the norm, it’s supposed to be accepted? That’s so dumb, Margeaux. Nothing about this is okay, or remotely acceptable. This person knew what hotel you were staying at. Do you know how easily I found where you live? Have you notified the cops? Have you done anything to put a stop to this?”
I grit my teeth, feeling my molars grind together. If there’s one thing I dislike more than people being fake and disingenuous, it’s people telling me what to do and acting like they know better than I do.
Any reprieve and feelings of content I was enjoying have effectively been washed away by Jon and his superiority complex.
“You can see yourself out. Now,” I say through clenched teeth as I march my way back to my bedroom. So much a fun night of sex and bad decisions.
I don’t know if I leave my bedroom door open as a test or if I’m just too tired to slam it shut. A couple of long, silent minutes go by, and Jon gently knocks on my door frame. His brown eyes are filled with so muchkindness. Like, he’s trying to tell me that he has no bad intentions, that I can trust him.I’m safe with him. I don’t remember the last time I truly felt safe with a guy. The twisted, itching feeling in my gut doesn’t know what to do next.
“I think this is the part where I apologize for coming off like I think I’m the boss of you,” Jon says, and it’s not sarcastic. His cheeks are a little red, like he’s ashamed of himself. “I didn’t mean to snap like that, Margeaux.” He stays in the doorway, respecting my need for space, and slides down to his butt, resting his back against the door frame. “I. Uh. I care about you. I know. It’s too soon. Too quick. But I care about you, Margeaux. When I found that letter…” His jaw tenses and his eyes narrow. If he were an animal, I swear, he’d be growling right now. I don’t hate that visual. My growling doctor. I giggle at the idea of this sweet guy being anything close to aggressive.
“It’s fine,” I say, shrugging the situation off.
“No. It’s not fine, Margeaux,” he says quickly.
“Jon. I appreciate the concern, really, I do. I’m not the only athlete getting creepy fan mail. Like I said. This is just par for the course.”
“Then quit.”
“What?” I ask, sitting up and grabbing a pillow to squeeze, otherwise I’d be throwing punches at his adorable face again.
“Quit. If this is the way things are in this sport, then it doesn’t seem worth it to me.”
“You’re telling me your job doesn’t come with risks?” I’m doing mybest to stay calm, but I’m so close to losing my shit, and punching him in the face again.
“Other than long, sleepless nights and a lot of student loans, no. Being a doctor doesn’t come with creepy stalkers, or other doctors trying to ram my head into the floor.”
I throw the pillow right at his stupid face, disappointed that it’s too soft to break his nose.
“Fuck you, Jon! Not all of us have dreams to become doctors. And being a wrestler isn’t just some stupid hobby I stumbled into. It’s my fucking passion!” Hot tears well up in my eyes. I’ve had this argument so many times with my mom. She’s questioned every decision I’ve made for the last six years. I can’t help but be defensive.
“Whoa. I get that it’s your passion, Margeaux. Fuck. You’re the most beautiful and impressive woman I’ve ever met. I’ve watched all your matches since meeting you. You own the ring when you’re in it. The crowd loves you. I can’t take my eyes off you. And it makes me want to claw out the eyes of every other person watching you. Watching your body. Admiring you.”
Whoa. Heart, meet stomach.
“Jon.”
“I know I have no right to say any of these things. We hardly know each other. We’re so different. But I can’t help that I want you. I can’t help that your face is all I think about, when I should be tending to my patients. I can’t help that I want to protect you, when it’s abundantly clear that you don’t need me. I know this all too well, Margeaux. But, I think…I knowthat I need you.”
What. The. Fuck?
Mouth dry. Palms sweaty. I need to say something. This amazing guy just poured his heart out to me.Say something!
“I just need you to know this. I’ll never make you give up your passion. I’ll support you every step of the way. But you’re crazy if you think I’m not appointing myself as your personal bodyguard from here on out.”
I snort.FUCKING SNORT!
“I think you’re overreacting just a tad, Doc,” I keep giggling, feeling so relieved and overwhelmed at the same time. This guy. Is he real? “I’ll talk to my manager about this. It is creepy and I have been on edge about those letters. It brings up a lot of old feelings I don’t enjoy.”
He doesn’t say anything, and I debate if this is the right time to talk about more serious shit.
“Do you wanna know how I got into wrestling?” I ask.
24
MARGEAUX
(TRIGGER WARNING.This chapter includes details about sexual assault. This content is not meant to harm readers emotionally, or psychologically. If you do not feel comfortable reading this chapter, you can skip ahead to the next one. Your well-being is more important than pages read.)
