Who Do You Love - Dean Ambrose

Chapter 10: Wonderful Tonight

Extracting ourselves from the restaurant after dinner was one of those things that was easier said than done. Partly because I was so full of cheesecake that I could barely even waddle back to our car, but mostly because Kelly's bone-crushing goodbye hug simply didn't seem to want to end.

She'd been crying as well, which hadn't helped matters and although a lot of that had been hormonal emotion, the fact that I would be leaving come the morning had certainly conspired to make it far worse. She had actually even made me tear up a little and in the end poor Dean and Brent had been forced to stand in silence while their women snivelled into one another's arms, smudging their mascara like they were parting ways forever and professing their undying sisterly love.

It meant that when we finally pulled out of the car park – with me waving frantically at both Kelly and Brent – I had almost forgotten about my run in with Elliott, which was why Dean's opening growl of a question caught me in measures of genuine surprise,

"So, you gonna tell me?"

"Huh? Tell you what?"

Clearly it wasn't the answer he wanted because his face screwed up in almost instant annoyance and his fingers tightened slightly around the wheel of the truck,

"Don't play dumb Lauren, I know somethin' happened. So just tell me before I have a fuckin' coronary, alright? Why did that Elliott guy come back from the bathroom with a busted eye then cut and run? Why did you come back lookin' all pissed at him? I'm not an idiot. Somethin' went down."

Oh, right.

I blinked at him,

"Uh – ,"

"Do I have to beat his ass as well now?"

"No," I shrugged, not sure where to start with it but knowing I had to, "I sort of already did."

Dean stared out through the windshield in silence, but I could see his eyes flickering a little from side to side, clearly trying to process my statement into something that made sense,

"Wait, you hit him?"

"Uh huh,"

His expression darkened in less than a second, turning from a frown into an all-out deathly glare,

"Why? Princess? What the fuck did he do to you?"

"He – um – well, he sort of – ,"

"Did he touch you?"

"No," I shook my head, "Well, not like Andy did anyway."

"Lauren – ,"

"I mean it, he didn't lay a hand on me. He just – you know – kinda trapped me in the corner and tried to kiss me a teeny tiny bit."

Predictably the sentence turned Dean apoplectic and the truck even swayed a little in response.

"What? Jesus Christ. That sneaky little asshole. What is it with the fuckin' guys up in these parts? They put some shit in the water around here? Or is forcin' themselves on women somethin' they teach 'em in class?"