In spite of our warm and fuzzy conversation, the next morning was undeniably awkward. It wasn't hard to tell that Wade was unhappy; he had withdrawn and would barely look at me.

I debated internally before deciding to just give him the rest of the weekend. It was Sunday morning; I could rent a car and drive to our next city, settle in and get some work done in the hotel. Maybe that was what we both needed.

He seemed relieved when I was the one to bring up separating – almost like he had been thinking it, but didn't want to say it. Still, he gave me a lovely goodbye kiss and said he'd miss me. Maybe there was still some hope for us.

It wasn't a long drive to our next destination, but it was enough time for me to work my way into misery. Jesus Christ, nothing was working out the way I'd expected...and I had no idea how to fix it. I had no idea which direction I wanted to go.

On one hand, Wade was fantastic. I could really see the two of us making a long-term relationship, and, more importantly, being happy together. On the other hand...as stressful as it was, I still loved my job. It sure as hell beat sitting at a desk crunching numbers – even though I'd enjoyed that as well, and could go back to it if need be.

I was thinking myself in circles. I decided to check in to the hotel, take a bath, and take a nap. Maybe when I woke up things would miraculously make more sense. I doubted it, but it seemed like there was a slim chance it might work.

I was again just crawling into the bed when there was a knock at my door.

"The hell?" I muttered, throwing the covers back and making my way over to see who it was. Nobody knew I was here; I'd only called the hotel about an hour ago to change my reservation to include today. Maybe there was some kind of problem with that...although they probably would have told me at the desk, I thought.

"Oh you are fucking kidding me," I snapped as I looked through the peephole. Dean heard me and laughed.

I put the chain on the door and opened it just a crack. "Go away."

He shook his head. "You left in a rush this morning. I wanted to make sure you were ok."

"I'm fine; I'm just about to go back to bed."

"Long night?" He asked, feigning innocence. "It sure sounded like it was, what with all the banging and moaning and you asking him to do you harder."

My mouth just about hit my chest. "Excuse me?"

He shrugged, but he had a smug grin on his face. I wanted to punch it off. "Only room left happened to be right next to you and lover boy. You guys really don't value the experience of other guests, you know. Incredibly rude of you."

I moved to shut the door. That was enough of this bullshit for one day.

He stuck his foot in between the door and the jam. "I'm just kidding, Lizzy. You're in a mood today. Not what I expected, seeing as it sounded like you were enjoying yourself last night. I figured you'd be a little less keyed up."

"What were you even doing in our hotel?" I asked, finally getting some of my bearings back. "You're suspended."

"I still work for Paul," he replied calmly, "and he needed to see me. There was no point in going back home after, not when I needed to be here for Monday anyway."

He'd needed to see Paul. That could only mean that shit was about to somehow get worse for me. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Do me a favor," I said, reaching up to attempt to rub away the headache that was starting to blossom behind my eyes. "Leave me alone and let me get some sleep."

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Why not?"

"Don't feel like it. Feel like chatting with you."

"I. Don't. Care," I replied through clenched teeth. "I'm serious; if you don't back the fuck up I'm going to call security and have you removed."

"You are no fun today. Did he misunderstand when you told him to fuck you harder? Is that why you're so sour; you didn't actually get to cum?"

I glared at him. "First, it's none of your goddamn business. Second, I'm not supposed to be fun; I'm your boss. Third...just go the fuck away, all right?"

He actually let me shut the door this time, and I turned the deadbolt for good measure before going back and flinging myself down on the bed.

That's when my room phone started ringing. I picked up cautiously, expecting it to be the front desk. I'd forgotten that there was a courtesy phone only about twenty feet from my door.

"You know what I would have told you?" Dean started without preamble after my shaky 'hello'. "I would've told you to shut your fucking mouth; that I'll fuck you any way I please. And then I would've taken it slow and gentle, just to piss you off, and when you told me again – because you would have, Lizzy, I know you by now – I would've taped your fucking mouth shut, pinned you down to that bed, and fucked you until you were a quivering mess. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to hear that limey bastard have you and not use you the way you're asking for? How absolutely fucking maddening it is to know that I could do everything you want – and a few things you didn't know you wanted – and be forced to listen to someone else fuck it up like that?"

I had no idea what to say to him.

"I'd make you beg for me," he said in a low voice when it became apparent that I wasn't going to say anything. "And you would love every single second of it. When are you going to stop playing this bullshit game with me and realize that?"

I thought about responding for a few seconds, and then carefully placed the phone back in its cradle. What good would it do? He wasn't going to be talked out of these ideas, and – truthfully – I'd given him more than I should have in the 'hope' department. Maybe if I stopped responding he'd realize that it wasn't going to happen. Maybe he'd back off if I just ignored him.

Maybe, I thought as I crawled under the covers, pigs would sprout wings and start flying. Maybe unicorns would reveal themselves to be real and bring about the world's greatest period of peace and prosperity.

Add to that list – maybe Dean Ambrose would leave me alone.

The other two seemed more likely.