☆ BABY ☆ { Rhea Ripley }

Chapter Ten

"Rhea," The word comes out of my mouth before I have the chance to process it.

I have been thinking about talking to her for the past ten minutes but I wasn't sure what to say so I decided against it yet my brain did the work without actually braining and uttered the words without my permission.

"Annalise," she turns to look at me. She looks agitated and annoyed so I decide not to bother her and keep my mouth shut, focusing on the scene around me.

All five of us are in a sitting room. Finn and Dom are showing stuff to each other on their phones and Damian is sitting next to me, watching Rhea repeatedly run her hands through her hair.

"What did you want?" She asks after a while, walking towards me.

"Nothing, just- isn't it time to, you know, start getting ready?" My voice has become smaller, scared I'll say or do something that will make her snap at me.

"Oh shit. You're right," she lets out a long sigh, "Are you coming?" She looks at me expectantly.

Am I coming? With Rhea? To her dressing room? Where she will dress? And undress? And-

"If you want me to," I reply, shrugging my shoulders and acting as chill as possible.

"Of course I do," she nods her head to the door and starts walking away. Damian chuckles from beside me as I scramble to my feet faster than Usain Bolt, making me stick my tongue out at him and wave at everyone but him before leaving.

Rhea leads us to her temporary dressing room and I can't help but look around at the beautiful theme.

All the walls are black. There's a white vanity table with a large mirror on one end of the room and a deep blue, velvet couch, with all of Rhea's stuff dumped on it, on the other end, a small glass table in front of it. All sorts of abstract paintings are hung on the walls, reminding me of Sam's place.

So prettyyyy.

Rhea doesn't waste a second before she starts to undress, taking off her shirt and leaving her in a black sports bra.

Ain't no way I'm watching that show and being disrespectful. I turn my body to face the wall and decide to make small talk to make it less awkward.

"Are you nervous?" I can't help but ask.

"Nervous?" Rhea sounds amused. Hm, maybe she wasn't agitated before and I was just trying to read her too hard.

"Yeah, about the match," I clarify, knowing that she already understood what I meant, and look down to fidget with the rings on my fingers.

"No, I'm not nervous. Are you nervous?" I hear the shuffling stop but don't turn around, waiting for her permission.

"Why would I be nervous?" I know why. I'm just not sure if she does. Or if she's asking for the reason I think she's asking for.

"Because of your social anxiety," my heart starts beating faster. She cares about my social anxiety. She remembers and is checking on me.

"Oh, um, I am not nervous. I just don't like the idea of being in a crowd and know that I will suffer when we return back to the hotel," I say.

The familiar guilt settles in my chest after the realisation that I have over shared kicks in.

"You don't have to suffer alone. I'll stay with you. And I will also get the guys to take you to one of the VIP rooms so you can watch the match from a screen and won't have to be in the crowd," she is literally the best, "Also, you can turn around now. I'm fully dressed, " she tells me.