Page 34 of When love and Hate Collide

“I would say what the hell are we waiting for, birthday boy? Lead the way.” Oscar smirks, throws his arm around my shoulder and guides me back toward the entrance of the bar.

The moment we step inside, and we make our way toward the bar to get some drinks my body tenses all over again. Dean is leaning against the bar, nursing a bottle of Budweiser, listening intently to whatever his cousins are telling him. As we walk by them I can feel his eyes following me.

“Tequila good?” Oz leans in to speak in my ear so I could hear him over the loud music. I nod, repeatedly telling myself not to yield to the little voice in my head and look at Dean, despite feeling his gaze penetrating through the side of my head. I’m trying so hard not to think about everything that happened between us the last few days.

I wonder what he’s thinking right now? Is he feeling as disgusted and conflicted as I am?

Fuck. I lose the very brief battle within myself, and my eyes shift in his direction and lock with his. Dean doesn’t avert his gaze, he stares at me almost fixedly and I stare right back, ignoring the pull in my stomach.

“Jeykins.” Oz nudges my shoulder and I break eye contact and take the shot of tequila Oz holds out to me.

“Happy Birthday, Oskie.” I smile, we lick the line of salt and clink our glasses before downing the shots. The liquid burns my insides and I shudder, sucking on the lime slice Oz shoves into my mouth.

The DJ changes the song to Usher’s ‘U Got It Bad’ and Oz takes my hand and pulls me toward the dance floor. I see Ashlyn talking with Chloe and Shane, she smiles when she sees me and mouths ‘you okay?’ I respond with a nod, and she blows me a kiss.

Oz pulls me against him and circles his arms around my waist and I snake my arms around his neck, resting my head on his shoulder as we sway together. I smile when Oz sings the lyrics to the song in my ear. My smile fades as quickly as it appears when I look up and see Dean being dragged to the dance floor by some leggy blonde with way too much make-up caked on her face.

I roll my eyes and shove aside the burning irritation that spreads across my chest. Dean has his forehead pressed to the blonde’s but his eyes are on me. My limbs go stiff when the girl starts kissing his neck—the same damn neck that still has the love bite I gave him earlier.

I don’t care.

I don’t have a single fuck to spare for him or his stupid bimbo.

Why is your gut scalding you from the inside out with jealousy then?

I’m not jealous. I’m still processing. A couple of hours ago I was in his arms, he was a guy I was attracted to. I can’t just flip a switch and not find him attractive or remember the way he tastes or how good he kisses.

Fucking hell.

I’m going to need more tequila shots if I’m going to drown out the incessant chatter in my head.

The slow song comes to an end and a very familiar song from our childhood starts thundering through the speakers. “Oh my God, not this song,” Oz complains with a chuckle just as Ashlyn pops up and I’m being dragged away from Oz to dance with her.

“Bitch, it’s our song!” She exclaims excitedly.

We sing the lyrics to one another and dance like we did when we were kids. Ash wraps her arms around my neck, and we sway together. “I love you, you sexy bitch.” She slurs drunkenly and I grin, tightening my arms around her.

“I love you more, you gorgeous tart.”

“Jessssss!” Ash shouts when my sister joins us on the dance floor. “Look at my best friend, isn’t she a sexy bitch? Oh, I should tell the DJ to play that song!” I laugh when she takes my hand and spins me around and dashes off toward the DJ’s booth. Sure enough the song changes and she takes the microphone from the DJ. “Hello… Hello people,” she taps the microphone to ensure it’s switched on. “This song is dedicated to my sexy bitch bestie right there! Jeyla Jenkins!” she slurs drunkenly and giggles when I turn a deep shade of red when the crowd cheers. “And a very happy birthday to my big bro, Oskie.” The crowd cheers again, holding up their glasses to salute Oz who takes a bow.

“Oh my God, she’s one sip away from being white girl trashed. Don’t give her anymore alcohol.” Jess giggles watching Ashlyn heckling the DJ when he tries to take the microphone back from her.

“Nah, she’s still got a couple more drinks in her, I think. Besides she won’t stop until she barfs,” I tell Jess who throws her head back and laughs at Ashlyn.

I manage to pry her down from the booth before we get kicked out of the place with Shane and Oz’s help. Jeez, I forget how rowdy she can get when she’s drunk.

After a few more rounds we’re all on the dance floor, the lights are dimmed and the atmosphere is lit. Shane’s dancing with Ashlyn, keeping an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t drink anymore and get completely plastered and I’m dancing with one of Oz’s colleagues from work. I believe his name is Daniel, or is it David? It didn’t matter, the boy can dance and I’m here for it.

By the end of the fourth song my feet are throbbing unpleasantly, and my throat is parched beyond belief, “Another drink?” David—we’ll call him David—asks as though he read my mind. I smile gratefully and nod.

“Yes, please!” I go to follow him out but stop when I see Shane carrying a drunk Ashlyn toward the exit. “Shane, wait up.” I move toward them and look over my best friend. “Is she okay?”

“I’m A-kay.” Ashlyn murmurs holding up her index and thumb attempting to make the perfect sign.

“Girl, you’re smashed.” I say with a giggle and she giggles back and presses her finger to her nose.

“I know… shhhhhh.”

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