Page 50 of When love and Hate Collide

“I don’t recall ever saying it was?” Jeyla unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to look at me, which only means one thing—she’s about to chew me out again.

“Do you not care at all about the situation that we're in?”

I shrug and unfasten my seatbelt, “No, not really,” I lie. “It’s just sex JJ. There’s no need to overreact.”

“Just sex?” she repeats, pressing her hands to her mouth and shakes her head. “It would have been just sex and not a big deal had you been some random guy, but you’re not Dean. You’re my best friend’sbrother. Are you not at all concerned about how she will react when she finds out?”

I shake my head and shrug, “Who says Ashlyn has to find out anything?”

Jeyla stares at me for a long moment, “Things like these always find a way of coming out, Dean. Ashlyn and I don’t keep secrets from one another, we’ve never lied to one another in all these years of our friendship; we have never betrayed one another. So, no it’s not just sex. When she finds out what we did, she’ll never forgive either of us.” Her voice is heavy with emotion, like she is fighting back the tears. We share a look, one I couldn’t place the meaning of. She shakes her head and goes to open the door and when it doesn’t open, she closes her eyes and sighs. “Let me out,” she whispers irritably, and I sigh. Stepping out of the car I walk over to the passenger side and pull the door open for her.

I watch her climb out of the car and she looks up at me, the anger and sadness in her gaze makes me feel some type of way. “Do me a favour and stay away from me.”

I keep my eyes on hers and I nod, “Shouldn’t be a problem.” I reply and push the door to my car shut and she turns and walks out of the garage.

My eyes follow her, watching her walk away until the garage door closes, and I groan rubbing my hands over my face tiredly.

What the fuck are you doing Dean?

* * *

Seven days have passed since the night Jeyla and I got stranded. I’ve managed to successfully avoid her for seven whole days, and it’s been a damn treat to say the least.

Have I woken up every night multiple times throughout the night with boners after having very erotic dreams of us? Maybe, but that’s expected after you have wild sex with someone…right?

Nevertheless, moving on. On day eight, it’s a Tuesday afternoon and I return home after spending a couple nights away with some of my boys kicking back, playing some PlayStation and having a few drinks.

The heat is fucking unbearable, scaling the high thirties. The news is referring to it as Furnace Tuesday. It’s so suffocating and muggy out, but my baby needs a bath, so I turn up the classic R&B tunes, take my top off and wash her.

While I’m waxing my car, Jeyla steps out of her house, dressed in a pair of white jogging bottoms—you know those fitted ones that sticks to her like a second skin and hugs every curve of her bum—and a matching crop top that shows off her smooth torso. It’s weird, but it’s like my body reacts a different way when she’s around now. I can almost sense when she’s around. The second she steps out of the door I look up at see her standing there. Jeyla’s grip on the bottle of water in her hand tightens and even from here I can see she’s swallowing thickly. I lower my shades, lick my lips and place my hands on the hood of the car while I stare back at her.

I can’t lie, I have missed pissing her off so I pucker my lips and blow her a kiss. Jeyla’s chest rises and then falls on an exhale, she rolls her eyes and takes off running down the street. My eyes follow her, biting my lip when my cock stirs in the jeans I’m wearing while I watch her sexy bum as she runs. I glance down at my cock and sigh, “Down boy, you might be fond of her, but I’m not.”

“Nope. Nah uh, no chance.”

“Jeyla—”

“I said no, Ashlyn.”

“Why are you being such a killjoy?” Ashlyn huffs, placing her hands on her hips, and I glare at her hard.

“A killjoy? Are you being serious right now? I am not going anywhere with that cretin you call a brother.” I tell her firmly while folding my laundry.

Ashlyn sighs and plonks herself down on my bed and widens her eyes, giving me the pleading puppy eyes she knows I can’t say no to.

“Jey,please, he’s my brother. Please, don’t make me choose between you. I can't do that.” Ashlyn pleads with a pout, and I stop folding my t-shirt and stare at her.

“I would never ask you to choose, which is why I’m saying you can go, and I’ll stay home. I refuse to spend over a thousand pounds to go on holiday and have it ruined because your shithead brother gets his jollies out of infuriating me.” Ashlyn growls in frustration and curls her fingers in her hair like she’s ready to tear it out.

“Alright, you listen to me Jeyla Jenkins if you value our friendship at all, you will come on this holiday with me like we’ve been planning. I've been putting up with you and Dean bickering with each other most of my life and I’m sick to death of it. You know Dean refused to come because he doesn’t want to ruin the holiday foryou? Not me,you. I had to beg him for over an hour to finally convince him to come with us.” Ashlyn explains, and I hate the way my stomach flutters at the fucking mention of his stupid name. “Oz and Jess are both coming, how can you expect me to leave him behind? He’s my twin, I want him there, Jeykins.”

I close my eyes and exhale.

“If he pisses me off, even once, I will drown him and spend the best years of my life behind bars. I hope you’re prepared to come and visit me in prison and bring me cigarettes because the likelihood of that happening is high.” I elucidate gravely and Ashlyn claps her hands excitedly, bouncing on my bed before she lunges herself at me and we both fall onto the bed, knocking over all the clothes I spent fifteen minutes folding neatly.

“Oh my God, get off me, you psycho.” I laugh, pushing her off me, when she smothers me with her tits. Ashlyn suddenly gasps and sits up looking at me with her green eyes wide. “Oh my God, you should invite Soufflé!” She exclaims and I roll my eyes.

“No!” I exclaim sitting upright and pushing my hair out of my face. “You’re folding those.” I say pointing at the messy mountain of clothes on my bed.

---