A/N: Ditto as the previous chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter Three

Wednesday, April 24, 2019
Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada

Whenever Hannah and Tyson first saw each other after time apart, their baser instincts always took over. No sooner had she walked through his front door last night than he had her on the nearest couch, moaning and arching her back, gripping his hair a little too hard as his tongue flicked over all the right spots. When that was done, she'd all but ripped off his sweatpants to get at what she wanted, and he'd been more than happy to oblige. It was as if they couldn't think straight until they touched, fucked, fulfilled their physical need for one another—and often just once wasn't enough. Later, when they'd climbed into bed, they were barely under the covers before they'd found each other again. Even now, as Hannah drifted in and out of consciousness in the soft morning light, all she wanted was to straddle Tyson and ride him, deep and slow. Then, hopefully, the sex-brain fog would lift and allow them to function.

She turned over and moved closer. He was still fast asleep. But as much as she ached to feel him between her legs, she couldn't bring herself to disturb him. Something about seeing him lying there next to her, quiet and vulnerable, his curly hair a complete mess, made her fall in love all over again.

When Fergal had first introduced Hannah and Tyson during WWE's annual trip to Tokyo in the summer of 2017, no one had thought much of it. Maybe they'd go on a date and flirt a bit on Twitter, generate a few clickbait headlines for the dirt sheets, but that'd be it. Everyone assumed they were just too far apart—both geographically and professionally—for any real romance to possibly take root. Hannah herself had assumed as much; having zero expectations was the best way she knew how to keep from getting hurt. Again.

But then, to her complete and utter confusion, Tyson had kept making an effort—to talk to her, to see her—and slowly but surely, she'd let down her defenses. By the time the new year rolled around it was an open secret that they were, at least in some capacity, an item; and when Hannah made a surprise appearance in Chris Jericho's corner for his marquee match against Kenny at Wrestle Kingdom 12—an idea that Jericho had pitched to Vince himself—the wrestling world lost its damn mind. It was that night, backstage at the Tokyo Dome, that Tyson and Hannah made their relationship official. She'd been scared out of her mind, worried about the stress of maintaining a relationship with someone who lived halfway across the world, but she'd jumped in with both feet, anyway. And she'd never regretted a minute of it.

He stirred next to her. Hannah scooted nearer, and as soon as she felt his skin against hers she needed him again. She ran her hand over the taut muscles of his abdomen, pressed her lips against his chest. It wasn't long before she had his attention.

"Mmm," he murmured. "Good morning to you too." His voice was throaty with sleep. It only worked to arouse more.

"Care to make it an even better morning?" She moved her hand lower; he sucked in a breath when her fingers traced over his length. He was hard already.

"Absolutely."

That was all the invitation she needed.

"Come on, come on, come on!"

"Babe, don't just jam buttons. You need to do combos."

"But—this—is—working!" Hannah gritted in between her furious button-mashing. They'd been playing this dumb Street Fighter video game for half an hour, and she felt like she was finally starting to get the hang of it. Truth be told, she hated playing video games—but her natural competitiveness always suckered her in. She refused to quit until she won at least one—

"K.O.!"

She abruptly dropped the XBOX controller to her lap. Tyson had beat her. Again.

He sent her a cautious glance—and then let out a loud bark of laughter at the look of utter irritation on her face. "I love you. But you're terrible at video games."

"And yet every time you ask me to play, for some strange reason I agree."

"I know. Are you a masochist or something?"

"Hey!" She grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and lightly hit his shoulder. "I'm getting better. That round was better."

"I went easy on you—hey!" He blocked the pillow from smacking him square in the face. "Alright, I'll concede that round was better," he admitted. And then, "I think it was the first time you lasted past three minutes."

"Tyson!" She aimed the pillow right at his shit-eating grin, but—a better fighter than her in real life as well as in virtual reality—he just grabbed it and used it to pull her closer. She pouted up at him. "I was trying really hard."

"I know. You'll get the hang of it, I promise. And I know I tease you about it a lot—"

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

"—but I love that you try. I know you don't like playing. But you do it because you know I like it. That means a lot to me."

Hannah played with the corner of the pillow, suddenly bashful; like a schoolgirl with a crush. "Well, you mean a lot to me. So if I have to get my ass whooped at Street Fighter or whatever else every now and again, I'll do it every time."

"Hey." She looked back up at him. His eyes were so blue. "C'mere."

She crawled across his lap, the pillow tossed aside, and pressed her lips to his. His hands slid up her back, under her shirt, drawing their bodies closer. Her fingers moved with a mind of their own, craving the feel of him, down his chest and toward the hem of shirt; but he put a stop to it before she could get any further. He brushed his thumbs over the soft skin of her lower back. "I want more of this."

The corner of her mouth quirked up. "What? Murdering me in video games?"

"Well, not just that," he smirked. "No. I want more of you, more of us. I want to wake up next to you and come home to you; I want you to come home to me. Not just sometimes, or when it works with our schedules. All the time."

Hannah sat up straighter, taken aback. Was he asking what she thought he was? She almost didn't want to say it out loud, afraid that she was wrong. But she had to. "Are you asking me to move in with you?"

He continued to brush his thumbs over her skin, grounding her. "No. I'm talking about us both moving into a new place. Together."

If his previous statement hadn't thrown her for a loop, that certainly did. "You would sell this place? But you love it!"

"I do. But it's just a house, and I love you more."

Hannah sank back on her hips. She hadn't been expecting this. They'd never broached the topic of living together before. When Tyson had still worked for NJPW it'd been absolutely out of the question, and when he'd left and moved back to Canada she didn't want to bring it up, too afraid of pushing too much change at once. In fact, up until a few seconds ago, it'd felt like a taboo topic between them. But now here they were, and he'd been the one to bring it up—and she wasn't sure what to say.

"Where would we get a place?" she asked. It seemed like the logical next question, and she honestly didn't know the answer.

Evidently, neither did Tyson. "Florida?" he said with a shrug. And then, at her surprised look: "Well, we both can do our jobs from anywhere. But I know you're getting more involved in NXT and everything that goes on down there, and I've been spending a lot of time there between wrestling shows and gaming stuff. Plus, AEW HQ is in North Carolina; and Florida's a hell of a lot closer to there than here."

She had to give it to him: that argument made a lot of sense, and it made her wonder how long he'd been thinking about this. But at the same time, she was a New England girl: she liked sweater weather and snow and seasons. As much as she did business there, she didn't know if she could picture herself living in Florida. But just as Tyson loved her more than this house, she loved him more than sweater weather; and if Florida was where she had to go to be with him, then she'd go to Florida.

He pulled her back toward him, back out of her thoughts and into the present. "I know I kind of sprung this on you, and I know it's a big decision and there's a lot we'd both have to do. So all I'm asking is that you think about it."

She ran her hands up his chest, relished the feel of his arms around her, safe and strong. It felt like it was where she belonged. "I will absolutely think about it," she said, and sealed the promise with a kiss.

Friday, April 26, 2019
Titan Tower – Stamford, Connecticut

"Tyson asked me to move in with him."

Stephanie nearly spit out her coffee. No doubt when Hannah told her she had something to tell her, she hadn't for a second thought it would be that. "He wants you to move to Canada?"

"No," she backtracked, waving her hand as if to clear the air of her words. "Sorry, I meant he wants us to move into a new place together."

Her sister still seemed shocked, eyes wide and eyebrows arched toward her hairline. Maybe Hannah should have waited until she'd finished her first cup of coffee before dropping this news in her lap. "Well, that's good, right? I mean it's about time you two at least discussed it."

"No kidding," she muttered. It was no secret that Stephanie regarded Hannah and Tyson's relationship with a healthy dose of caution; the entire family did. But out of all them, Stephanie gave them the biggest benefit of the doubt. Maybe it was because she knew what it was like to date within the business, maybe it was because she knew what it was like to be Vince McMahon's daughter, or maybe it was a little bit of both, but Hannah knew her sister just wanted her to be happy. And as long Tyson made her happy, then he was ok in Stephanie's book.

"Where would you move to? Would you get a place in Connecticut?"

"I don't know, we haven't gotten that far yet. He suggested Florida since I'm getting more involved in NXT."

"Florida?" Stephanie returned. "I can't see you living in Florida."

"Yeah, but unlike you the guy I decided to date doesn't just so happen to be from the same state as me, let alone the same country."

She pursed her lips. "Okay, Paul is from New Hampshire, not Connecticut. But point taken." She took a sip of coffee, and then: "So did you agree to it then?"

"To getting a place with him? No, not officially. He kind of dropped it on me out of nowhere, so he said just to think about it."

"And what are you thinking?"

Hannah paused. "That it seems like the logical next step in our relationship."

Stephanie sent her a deadpan look. "That doesn't tell me whether you want to do it or not."

"Well I want to be with him, so of course I want to do it," she said, a bit more forcefully than she meant to. "It's just… I don't know. Scary."

She stared down at her desk, retreating into herself, the shadow of anxiety looming at the edges of her being; but Stephanie was quick to snap her out of it. "Of course it's scary. It's scary because it's change, and you've never done well with change. But you've also never let your fear hold you back from following your heart. If you had, you and Tyson wouldn't even be together."

Hannah couldn't help the smirk that crossed her lips. Stephanie McMahon, ever the advocate of tough love. But she did it because it worked.

"So think about it," she advised. "But do yourself a favor and forget about how scary it is, because that's not a real reason to say no."

No, her fear wasn't a real reason to say no. But as Stephanie checked her watch and excused herself, saying something about a conference call, Hannah wondered if there were any real reasons to say no. There weren't any now, not that she could see. But a part of her, a very small part buried very deep down, worried there could be a real reason in the near future, and it started with the letters "A," "E," and "W."