Who Do You Love - Dean Ambrose

Chapter 41: Making An Entrance

Being trapped in a car with the boss man and only the boss man was a pretty fantastically awkward thing. Particularly since we had never really bonded despite our weird sort of part-family thing and which hadn't been helped at the lunch nine months earlier where he had blackmailed me in exchange for keeping schtum about my dating Dean.

Oh yeah.

I very nearly almost forgotten about that bit, although it likely was the reason I had always held back, since forming any kind of meaningful relationship with a man who had strong-armed me had never been top of my list.

Only now he was helping me. Maybe that deserved some chitchat which was my usual approach when it came to making friends. Made up essentially of talking incessantly until I plain wore them down or crept in under their skin. Much like I had done with Dean.

Dean.

I shivered a little, because quite frankly I was terrified about how he would respond. We had texted a little, or more like hourly, in the idle sort of way that we usually did but from my end each response had been carefully worded so he wouldn't catch on that I was heading his way and race to the airport to pack me back off again, which I knew for a fact he would do given the chance.

Not that I had lied to him exactly –

I couldn't and nor did I want to do that, although my answers weren't totally forthcoming either and instead for the most part were essentially downright vague which wasn't the same thing as flat out deception or making up some totally hokum story, right?

How's the head Princess?

That text had been easy, because it hadn't required me to falsify at all and so my fingers had tapped the truth out on that occasion, detailing the mild thumping but reassuring him I was okay. The next text message though had been a little more difficult and I had groaned when I received it,

What's my dirty girl up to?

For a second I had thought that somehow he had rumbled me, but on calming down had realized he had meant in the general sense and was likely bored and sat in the hotel room, having done his workout and idly looking to kill some time.

My response had been masterful.

Fancied a change of scenery, so I'm out of the house and keeping busy with some things.

I had felt truly terrible but I figured I was protecting him, because if he knew what I was up to then he would have gone mad and possibly thrown a television from a window or punched a passing person and then ended up in jail. Although I still hadn't been able to settle the feeling that I was lying to his face and therefore letting him down.

It was why I had hoped some chitchat with the boss man would help quell my growing nerves –

Yeah, that hadn't worked as instead Vince had spent the entire two hours practically surgically braced to his phone and variously shouting at and laughing with people until my ears rang and I honestly contemplated bailing out. If I used the time honored tuck and roll method and wrenched the door open, then I could land in a ditch and hotfoot it back home to Las Vegas somehow, simply reverting back to normal so that Dean would never know. Instead however and fearing fatal injury, I had simply stayed put and sipped my champagne which had actually been poured on our arrival by a chauffeur and which essentially was my lifeline.