Who Do You Love - Dean Ambrose

Chapter 49: Ninety Nine Problems And His Mom Is One

Being as how my own unhappy brush with concussion had taken me a good two weeks to put right, I had braced myself for Dean to be sluggish and bewildered for what I assumed would be a good long while, so was therefore both over the moon and astonished when he woke me the next morning like nothing had been wrong and with a plate of pastries he had ordered from room service figuring that I would probably want breakfast where I was.

His lips had grazed my cheek half-buried in the covers,

"Rise and shine baby."

I had blinked at him,

"D-Dean?"

"Who else would it be? You been steppin' out on me?"

In an instant he had been unmistakably him and I had surged from the sheets and thrown my arms hard around him with an actual unhidden sob of relief.

"Oh thank god, you're okay."

"I'm always okay."

But he had brought his arms up and returned the hug anyway, smoothing his rough palm over my hairline as I had trembled against his chest and even cried a little bit.

"I thought – I thought – ,"

"Gonna take more 'n that to break me, tombstone piledriver huh? That big crafty fuck."

Evidently at some point while I had been sleeping, he had been up and busy watching the match back, since I figured he probably couldn't remember too much of it or possibly any of it which would have in no way been a surprise. My suspicions had been confirmed when he had tucked his fingers beneath my jawline and then lifted my head up with a look of concern,

"I saw him knock you over, he hurt you?"

"No, I'm okay."

"You sure about that Princess?"

I had nuzzled in close again and then blown myself a long breath of relief out as I had rubbed my face in over his shirt and revelled in the feeling of his arms firm around me and present and totally back in control,

"Uh huh, I'm sure."

Dean hadn't seemed too convinced by my answer but he had at least let it go before the pastries had gone cold and by the time I had munched my way through one – okay two – of them, I had been brighter and happier and feeling more myself again, but still pumped up with enough protective instinct that I wasn't prepared to let him out of my sight and which was therefore the reason that I looked up in a panic as he changed into his sweat pants and grabbed up the key card,

"Wait, where – where are you going?"

"Down to the gym in the basement,"

"Wait, I'll come too," I scrambled up with purpose from the covers but managed to get them caught round my leg then very nearly face planted into the carpet before stumbling free and crashing into his chest.

Dean raised a knowing brow and then gently swept my hair back,

"I'm fine, I fuckin' promise."

"I know, I – um – want to work out."

"You?"

"Uh huh, I had two pastries remember?"