Page 35 of When love and Hate Collide

“I’m going to drive her home.” Shane says, helping Ash put her denim jacket on when she struggles to put her arm through the sleeve. “I think your sister is coming with us.”

Shane gestures behind me with his head and I follow his gaze. I see my sister giving Oscar a hug before she makes her way over to us. “Okay, let me just get my things and I’ll come with.” I go to leave but Ash grabs my arm and stops me.

“No, no, you stay,” she shakes her head and hiccups, “You have to stay, we can’t both leave Oksie.” I snigger when she drunkenly mispronounces Oskie. “Also, that bar guy is effing hot.” Her green eyes go round and wide with excitement as though she suddenly devises the world’s greatest idea. She flashes me a boozy grin and stumbled toward me. “You should call soufflé. Oh, soufflé, Jeykins loves yooou!”

In a panic my eyes dart over to the bar where Dean is—orwassitting and sigh in relief when I see that his seat is empty. That would have been embarrassing. “Who the hell is soufflé?” Jessica questions, eyeing me curiously and hands Ash the bottle of water she’s holding.

“No one.” I wave off her question with a short laugh, “Take her home,please.” I urge Shane and he smiles, shaking his head when Ash nuzzles his neck muttering incoherently about him doing filthy things to her while he hauls her out of the bar.

I chuckle to myself, knowing full well she’s going to hate herself for drinking too much when that hangover hits her in the morning and I’m going to take great pleasure in torturing her.

Strolling back to the bar I see David is waiting for me with a tall glass of vodka cranberry. I climb up onto the bar stool and take a long sip, moaning when the chill of the icy beverage cools my parched throat.

“Babe, I'm going to the bathroom. Don’t you go anywhere because we’re heading back out on that dance floor.” David says with a wink, and I inwardly cringe when he called me‘babe’.

I finish my drink and order myself a bottle of water. When my head suddenly swims, I know I’ve hit my limit of alcohol consumption. From the corner of my eye I see Dean returning from wherever he disappeared to and taking the seat at the end of the bar which is facing me directly. I overhear him order himself a rum and coke.

I shouldn’t have, I know, but I blame my drunken stupor for being so damn weak. My eyes involuntarily veer in his direction and I’m not in the least surprised to find him watching me as well. With one muscular forearm resting against the bar top and the other leisurely stroking his jaw. His knuckles are bruised, likely from when he punched that guy earlier in the afternoon. The angel in me wants to reach out, brush my fingers over each bruised knuckle and ask him if it hurts. However, the headstrong part of me swiftly pushes away those urges and for good measure mentally slaps me upside the head for being such a melt.

The way he’s looking at me with that glacial glare tells me he would readily watch me drown in a teaspoon full of water and not lift a finger to help me.

Then again, I’m not one to hold back either. I can’t take it. The feel of his eyes boring into my skull is maddening me. I shift in my seat so I can face him properly. “Are you trying to etch every crevice of my face into your brain, Reyes?” I snap irritably. “You should take a picture it will last longer.”

For a good minute his facial expression doesn’t change, not a damn flicker of emotion while he stares at me intently. “And risk your face cracking the lens of my new phone? I’ll pass,” he retorts frostily, and I draw in a deep breath to keep my flaring temper at bay. “Also, don’t flatter yourself, I wasn’t looking at you. I was trying to see around your giant head which is currently hindering my view.” I turn my head to the left and see a pretty brunette sitting at the bar with her friend. Judging by the sultry glances she keeps throwing his way and the cringey manner she’s nibbling on her straw while she converses with her friend it’s clear she’s more than a little keen. “If you don’t mind,” he mutters, gesturing for me to move out of his line of vision so they can continue eye fucking one another from across the bar.

I roll my eyes in exasperation, “I do mind.” I throw back and he rests his forearms against the bar and leans forward, a ghost of a smile on his face.

“Why?” Dean asks, narrowing his eyes at me. “Did you like it better when you thought I was looking at you, princess?”

A rapid surge of heat rises to my face and my temples start to throb, “Fuck you, Dean.”

“Not even if you paid me, darling.”

We glare at one another vehemently for a long moment before I lean in closer, keeping my eyes fixed firmly to his. “You wouldn’t be worth a dime,darling.” I sneer and the corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk before he slowly licks his full lower lip and draws it between his teeth.

“That’s a lot of hot air for a girl who was on her knees sucking my dick a few hours ago.” My palm itches to slap the haughty look right off his face, instead I snort and smile.

“Says you who couldn’t stop picturing a life married to me so he could—what was it you said—oh that’s it, spread me out on top of the kitchen counter and feast on my pussy in between every course till your satisfied, right?” Those jade eyes darken and his jaw clenches tight.

Oh yeah, two can play that game you insufferable cantankerous git.

“Go right ahead and screw that girl, it will take more than the likes of her to erase the taste I left in your mouth.” I add with an arrogant smirk of my own. “I hope she enjoys the taste of me as much as you did.”

Fuck me, that felt good.

I slip off the stool and take David’s hand when he comes back from the bathroom and follow him to the dance floor.

I dance with David to a couple of songs when the DJ plays hits from the eighties. What I didn’t expect was ‘mysterious girl’ to start playing. My stomach takes a dive and for a second I don’t move. I look over at Dean who seems to have the same reaction as me while he talks to the brunette. Our eyes meet across the room, and I could swear I saw his fingers tighten around the glass of rum and coke he’s holding.

David wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him while we sway to the song. I’m not loving the way his hand keeps moving toward my arse and I’m running out of ways to slyly manoeuvre so he moves his hand away from my bum.

Also, I’m starting to regret drinking that vodka cranberry so fast. I’m starting to feel real unsteady on my feet and my vision is blurring. “Shit.” I shake my head to clear the fuzziness and clear my vision but that only makes me dizzier.

“You okay, baby?” David asks, taking hold of my chin. I shake my head slowly and press both my hands against his chest to push him back but my arms feel like they have no power to them at all.

What the hell is happening?

“No, I uh, I don’t feel so good.” I stammer, pinching the bridge of my nose when my heart rate spikes.

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