Who Do You Love - Dean Ambrose

Bump In The Night

Given that in life he was generally fearless, it was a surprise for me to discover that Dean disliked horror films. As in he genuinely found them tense and uncomfortable.

Him.

Dean Ambrose.

One third of The Shield.

Despite that though, he loved Halloween time and became almost childlike with glee about it all. As the neighborhood shops had begun to stock with spook supplies every time he went out he came back with something new, ranging from light-up pumpkins and candy eyes to cobwebs and a styrofoam headstone.

RIP.

Worst of the bunch had been the animatronic spider, which – quite frankly – had almost finished me off. Partly because I hated them anyway but mostly because he had sent it across the bathroom as I had stumbled from the shower, half-dead to the world.

He had not got any sex that evening.

Or – come to think of it – the day after that.

Thankfully however, with the holiday almost upon us and the disastrous sex embargo fresh in his mind, Dean had reined in his spending a little and the house had ended up tastefully decorated instead of like the glorified ghost train at a park.

Small mercies I guessed.

The day itself however was kind of a let-down which probably wasn't a total surprise. I mean, sure, the kids in costumes were adorable and the effort that went into each one was phenomenal, but I had honestly never been sold on the rest of it and that went right back to my teenage years. For the most part each and every Halloween I could remember had been spent feeling cold and hanging around for my best friend. Usually she had been round the corner of a building, Frenching a guy or fumbling around. But standing in a costume while your best friend swapped saliva did not for a memorable holiday make, which was why – with the local kids stocked up on goodies and midnight getting closer – I could finally draw breath.

Pouring a glass of wine and snagging up some Oreos, I plodded into the great room and collapsed into the chair, tucking my legs up under my body and wrapping myself in the big faux-fur throw.

"God that's better – so much better."

I took a sip of wine and let out a sigh.

Another thing that had bummed me out a little was that Dean had been called on for promotional work and although he had promised he would try and be back earlier – almost as standard – his flight had been delayed. In hindsight I probably should have simply gone with him but it was only for some signing and it was only for one day and so Dean had insisted I stay and chill out a bit, plus – you know – dispense candy to the kids.

Looking at my watch and then at my cell phone – in case Dean had somehow called without me realizing he had – I blew out a bored and restless little grumble then with nothing else to do, switched on the TV.

Predictably the channels were jam-packed with spook stuff and I flicked through them sullenly, hoping a romance might come on. Sadly on that front I was destined to be disappointed – one hundred and fifty channels and nothing to watch – so I sat back and left it on the next thing that flicked up, which, as it turned out, was The Blair Witch Project.