"Seriously? I can't believe you!" I shouted the minute I got backstage.
"Babe, I-"
"Nope! I'm talking." I whirled around and pressed my finger to Dean's lips, silencing him. My brilliant boyfriend had just caused us a match and I was rather livid. I'm so close to a contender's match. I can't afford losses like this. "You only tagged me in once. I had Charlotte, I could have made her tap! But noooo, you couldn't give up your ego even for me. It's a tag *team* match. You can't just tag yourself in last minute because YOU want the win."
"Babe, I know. I'm sorry."
"Oh, I'm sure." I huffed crossing my arms.
"C'mon." He gripped my arm, pulling me forward for a kiss when I wriggled out of his grasp.
"Nope. No kisses. You're grounded."
"Just a quick one." He whined, face fixed in full on pout mode.
I rolled my eyes, struggling to keep my composure.
"Dean, I said no."
"Whatever. We'll see." He grumbled. One thing about Dean Ambrose not many people know, he will pout until he gets his way.
That was an argument for another time though. I turned on my heel and whisked away. I needed to find Mark and beg for one more match to prove I'm worth a title shot. Without Dean of course. I grumbled to myself, annoyed. I know he means well. But he never thinks before he acts. I just needed a little while to cool down.
I found Mark and after a solid 15 minutes of begging he finally agreed to give me a single's match against the Women's Champion Charlotte later tonight. If I won I would have the opportunity to face her for the title. This was my very first opportunity at the title and to say I was excited is an understatement of epic proportions. The anticipation of my match later tonight helped ease some of my aggravation towards Dean.
But it wasn't long before I felt myself feeling a little guilty after some thought. Yes, not letting me compete was majorly annoying and totally selfish of him. But he's my boyfriend and he's always been there for me. I debated on whether or not I should go find him and apologise. But... I need to be totally focused. My match is in less than an hour. I would find him afterwards.
And as fate would have it.
He was waiting for me outside my locker room. Still clad in his ring gear, hair still a sweaty mess. He looked up when he heard me approaching.
"Dean, what are you doing? You haven't even changed or showered!"
"I was waiting for you." He mumbled, looking like a scolded puppy.
God bless. I felt my heart leap into my throat at his sincerity.
"Dean, honey, no. It's okay. I'm not mad anymore. I convinced Mark to give me a single's match. I can still be number one contender."
"Really?" He perked up a little.
"Really." I nodded happily. "Now go shower and change."
He ran a hand through his damp and disheveled locks, smiling. He ruffled my own hair with a large warm hand as he brushed by me. I smiled at the innocent little touch before turning my attention back to my match later tonight.
Focus, focus, focus.
Just as I opened the door and stepped inside, a voice directly beside my ear spooked me and large hands grabbed my waist from behind.
"Hey..."
"Wha-"
I instinctively turned my head towards the voice and a pair of plump lips pressed firmly against my own. My eyes widened in shock and Dean leaned away slowly, breaking the contact with the most smug expression on his face.
"I can't believe you just did that." I mumbled, awe-struck.
Told ya I'd get that kiss." He shrugged and stole another, practically skipping away after he released my waist.
"You're a child!" I shouted after him.
"A child who just got some sweet mouth action! Good luck, babe. Knock her out!" He shouted back from somewhere down the hallway.
I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. He was ridiculous and crazy and stubborn... but honestly it's what I loved about him. I wouldn't have it any other way. I knew my contender's match would be a breeze. The title was as good as mine.