A/N: Backstory for this, what's going on with Paige currently--forced into retirement & now running Smackdown but I'm putting Penelope's OC instead of Paige. Hope that makes this easier to understand. -Mac
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❝I can't get out. . .❞
"Stop laughing!" I shrieked tossing a chip from my plate at my best friend. A fake scold on my face that quickly fell back into a grin that matched his. "It's not that funny."
His features settled into a smile, his eyes still shining with laughter. "You a general manager? That's hilarious, Poppy. You can barely manage to keep a plant alive but you're gonna keep Smackdown afloat?" His eyebrow cocked up, disappearing under his dirty blonde bangs.
My eyes rolled, sure he had a point but I'd die before admitting that anything Ambrose says is right. "It can happen." The uncertainty in my voice making him break out into another fit of laughter.
"Okay, if you say so." He said with heavy sarcasm, chomping down on his sandwich.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, bestie," I said dryly with an internal sigh. Dean shot me a cheeky wink before taking another bite, "At least it keeps me in wrestling--sort of." My eyes dropped down as another wave of shock washed over me, it still didn't feel real.
His boots that were propped up on the table while he leaned back in his chair swung over his plate, landing on the floor as he leaned forward. "Hey," He said still chewing his food, a filthy habit I've grown tired of trying to correct, those strong hands wrapping around my thighs and pulling my seat closer to him. "I'm just messing with you, P, you can totally do this."
"Really?"
Dean's head bobbed up and down, "I know this isn't how you pictured this year going, but the way you are handling it . . . You're my hero. I could never be as strong as you're being if I found out my wrestling career was over." His forehead pressed against mine and my eyes opened looking straight into his silver gaze, there was nowhere I felt safer than in his embrace. "You're gonna be a bitchen GM."
I exhaled a slight laugh, the corners of my mouth lifting into a small smile. Dean Ambrose, the man that made everything better. "Thanks." I sighed, he released me and returned to his food. "So," I drug out the word, trying to figure out how to word my next question. "Does that mean you'll come with me?"
His eyebrows shot up into his hairline, coughing as he choked on his food in surprise. "Leave RAW?" He asked in between hacks, "Willingly?"
"For me." I quickly added, seeing where this was going.
Still, his head shook from left to right. "P, I've done my time on Smackdown. I can't just abandon Seth and Ro."
My bottom lip extended into a pout, "Why not? I'm so much prettier than them--well maybe not Roman." I said with a shrug, causing Dean to laugh.
