Page 43 of When love and Hate Collide

“Not till recently.” I say quietly and sneak a look at him.

“Not everyone is built to get along JJ, if we did, the world we live in would be a very different place. We’d be shitting out rainbows and dancing with unicorns instead of fighting wars and killing one another. It’s the natural order of things.”

“I suppose you do have a point, as nice as it would be to live in a word filled with love and positivity all the time it would get pretty suffocating.” I voice, rubbing my hands over my arms when a shiver passes though me. “I read somewhere that hate is the catastrophic absence of love.” Dean looks at me, the corner of his eyes thinning. “You wouldn’t know or appreciate the significance of each one without the other.” Dean goes to respond, but the bush we are walking by shakes like something is about to jump out at us. I yelp and curl my arms around Dean’s bicep. Dean looks over at the bush, his brows fused ready to pummel anything that comes out at us, but his facial expression softens when a wild fox darts out and legs it across the road to the other side and disappears.

I release a breath of relief though my heart is jackhammering against my chest. I feel as though I’ve aged ten years tonight and it’s not even over yet. I should have let go of my hold on him but he’s so warm and the smell of his aftershave incites a stir of desire deep in my belly. When I finally lift my gaze, I find his emerald gaze watching me.

Oh God, the heat and austerity brimmed in his gaze moistens my already soaked panties. I’m not well in the head. I’m truly not. Who gets turned on by someone looking at them with such disdain?

Me. That’s who.

I’m thankful its dark and he can’t see how deeply pink my cheeks are getting. I uncoil my arms from his bicep and step away, swallowing against the dryness of my throat.

Dean says nothing, only watches me as I walk on ahead of him. We walk another ten minutes in silence and sure enough there is a small motel at the end of the road. Three Daws Lodge.

We walk in, and I glance around the small reception area. There really isn’t much to it at all and for some reason I expected much worse, but I’m surprised and pleased it’s actually clean. The reception is painted a brilliant white with various pictures of flowerpots hanging on the walls and wood effect porcelain tiles.

“Hi, welcome to The Three Daws, how can I help you?” A young red-haired receptionist greets us, with a cheerful smile, her eyes lighting up a touch more when she sees Dean walking over.

“Hi, we were looking for a room for the night,” Dean says flashing her that boyish smile of his that effortlessly melts the panties off every female with a pulse.

I clear my throat, “Separate rooms, please.” I chime in from behind him, and Dean turns to look at me with a brow arched silently telling me to shut up. The receptionist looks between us, her brows pinching but that sugary smile on her face doesn’t waver.

“Okay... let me take a look.” She says and types away on her computer for a couple of seconds. When she looks up her face is apologetic. “I'm afraid we only have one double room left.” She informs us with a polite smile, and I sigh pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Of course you do,” I mumble under my breath sarcastically. Dean clearly overhears me and casts me a dark look and clears his throat.

“We'll take it.”

I scowl, “What? I am not sleeping in the same room with you.” I hiss, looking up at him furiously, and a slow forged smile stretches across his face when he turns to look at me.

“Then good luck walking home,” he answers curtly while pulling his wallet out to pay. I’m sure I must be sleeping someplace and having a nightmare or suffering through some horrendous trip because this cannot be happening right now. I pinch my arm, hoping to wake up from this horrible nightmare but alas all I get is a jolt of pain and a nice red mark on my arm.

“Excuse me, are you sure you don’t have any other rooms? Like at all?” I ask desperately, and the receptionist shakes her head apologetically. “Do you have a room in your basement, because he can sleep in there,” I say jabbing my thumb toward Dean who continues to glare at me with red hot abhorrence.

“No, Miss. The rooms are all occupied I’m afraid.” I sigh in defeat.

“You know what, fine whatever...” I mutter, jaded and do a double take when I notice Dean and the receptionist making eyes at each other. My brows rise, and my chest goes hot and tight with agitation as I take a step forward.

“Excuse me. It appears this whole check-in is going to take a while if the suggestive eye contact you have got going on is anything to go by. Could you be a gem and hand me the key so I can be on my way, because I’m tired and these boots are killing my feet one toe at a time.” I express acidly, and both Dean and the receptionist both look at me with reverence before I throw Dean a cutting glance and walk out of the glass doors.

“Stupid fucking jerk,” I mumble incoherently to myself as I walk off. I look back and see them both smiling, and the receptionist hands him a small piece of paper. Dean winks before he turns and walks out.

Of course, he would take her number. Why the fuck would he not? The real question is why am I so bothered by it? So what if he calls the hoe-bag and they wind up sleeping together? I feel another surge of indignation reverberate through me at the thought alone.

Chillax Jeyla, anyone looking at you would think you’re dating the guy for fuck’s sake.

“Hey,” Dean strides over to me, a vexed look on his handsome face. “What the fuck was that in there?”

I shrug, feigning ignorance like I don’t have an inkling of what he’s talking about. “What?”

“That bitchy little outburst, that’s what,” he presses, taking a step closer to me. I take a step back and cross my arms over my chest and pin him with a surly look of my own.

“If you want to go around and stick your dick into everything that moves, you can do it on your own time. Better yet, give me the key to the room and go screw her over the counter for all I care.” Dean exhales, his jaw set tight while we stand glaring at one another. “I just want this night to be over with.”

“That makes two of us.” Dean agrees sourly and brushes past me. I close my eyes and exhale deeply before I follow him to the back of the building where I assume our room is located.

I stand behind him while he unlocks the door with the key. The door swings open and Dean steps aside to let me in first. Wow, look at that. He can be cultured if he really wants. I walk into the room and look around, taking in my surroundings. The room is just like any three-star motel. Give or take, with a double bed, a chair that’s seen better days, a TV set and a bathroom. The walls are painted an eggshell colour and like the reception area the walls have picture frames of abstract paintings. Dean closes the door behind him after he walks in while I mutely stand in the centre of the room unsure of what to do with myself and very aware that I’m all alone in a room with him… with a bed and multiple surfaces that can be used for sex.

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