Finding Jon Moxley •{Dean Ambrose Fanfic}•

Chapter 12 - Superman?

Chloe's POV

I flutter my eyes open and get ready to stretch off all the sleep that took over my body, until a pair of arms snake around my waist and pull me closer to a warm source. I glance to the right to see Roman sleeping, with me in his arms. And that's when the events of last night came rushing into my head.

-last night flashback-

"Are you guys ready?" Roman asks picking up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

"Huh? Yeah," Seth says, also picking up his bag.

"Actually, no," Dean says, grabbing his bag and opening the dressing room door. "I'm going with Renee tonight....so bye," he says leaving.

"I swear to god..." Roman says once Dean left the room. "This Renee shit is getting really annoying, and it's only the first day of them dating!"

Seth starts shaking his head. "God, this is only going to get worse as the days go on."

"Let's just try and forget about him," I pipe up. "Let's go to the hotel, have fun, and since tomorrow is our day off, we could go somewhere. Just us three?"

"Sounds great Baby Girl," Roman says, putting his arm around my shoulder.

"Yeah, I agree with Roman, Princess," Seth nods his head.

I smile. "Alright, let's go then," I say, leading them both out of the room, and out of Chicago's Allstate Arena. The cool air hits me in the face, making me shiver. Roman offers me his jacket; I refuse. I like when cold air bites my skin or rushes past me. It makes me feel like I'm flying, especially when it's dark out, just like it is now.

Seth opens the car's door for me, and I gladly get in. He closes the door as I buckle up. Seth gets into the back, and Roman's in the drivers seat. "Let's hit the road," I say, turning on some tunes as Roman starts the car and drives off.

Suddenly, the song Partition comes on, by Beyonce; this is my song. Not joking. Especially when the beat drops, priceless.

I start singing along and dancing in my seat. Roman keeps glancing at me; every time he does, he chuckles. I stop and stare at him. He quickly looks at me. "Keep goin' girl," he purrs.

I roll my eyes and continue. My favorite part is coming up, and I know all the words to it. And it's in French.

Est-de que tu aimes le sexe?

Le sexe. Je veux dire, l'activité physique.

Le coït. Tu aimes ça?

Tu ne t'intéresses pas au sexe?

Les hommes pensent que les féministes détestent le sexe,

Mais c'est une activité très stimulante et naturelle que les femmes adorent.

But because Roman and Seth don't speak French—neither do I, but only the part of the song—I sing it in English. "Do you like sex? Sex. I mean the physical activity. Coitus. Do you like it? Are you not interested in sex? Men think that feminists hate sex, but it's a very stimulating and natural activity that women love," I sing, trying to match Beyonce's pitch.

The song ends after a couple beats. Roman stops at a red light and turns to face me. "You like sex?" He chuckles.

"I, uh, no," I stutter, panicking at the unsuspected question. "It's the song lyrics in English."

"Baby Girl, I know that," Roman says, still looking at me. "I took French in high school."

"Oh, that's cool," I say, getting all sweaty, for the upcoming questions. "I just took German, but I don't remember any of it," I say, giggling a little.