Page 66 of When love and Hate Collide

“I’m not giving you the cold shoulder,” I answer, taking a sip from my drink. “This is what me not caring looks like. Get used to it.” I push off the bar and walk over to Oz. “Come on Oskie, dance with me.” Oz smiles, sets his beer down and takes my hand, leading me to the makeshift dance floor.

The DJ plays a set of slow wine reggae songs. I wrap my arms around Oz’s neck, and we dance rather sensually together. There is no other way to dance to songs like these, so that will be my justification. Like the idiot I am I go and look at Dean over Oz’s shoulder and when I find him watching me intently, my stomach goes all tight and I can’t look away.

“Are you okay, kid?” Oz murmurs in my ear and I nod. “What’s with the frosty vibe between you and Dean?”

I pull my head back a little so I can look up at him, “When has it ever not been frosty?” Oz smiles and spins me, so my back is pressed against his chest. We sway together to the slow rhythm of the music when he wraps an arm around my waist.

“Nah, this is different. Usually the tension burns hot between the two of you, but now it’s ice cold and my little brother is looking at me like he wants to reach into my throat, tear it right out and strangle me with it.” Oz murmurs against my ear, smiling.

I rest my head back against his shoulder and laugh. “I doubt that, give him five minutes he’ll be all over the next girl that catches his attention.”

“The only girl that’s got his attention is right here in my arms. I promise you, right now, he’s burning inside that he can’t be the one dancing with you.” Oz explains and I sneak a look at Dean who is glaring at the bottle of beer he’s holding so hard I’m surprised it hasn’t shattered in his hand. As if sensing me watching him he lifts his eyes, catching mine and fuck the intensity of his gaze makes my throat go dry.

I don’t understand him, I really don’t. I’m starting to get the feeling I’m nothing but a plaything to him, an inconsequential toy he keeps around to entertain himself with until the next girl comes along, and like a fool I’ve been playing into his hands giving him exactly what he needs. But no more.

I sigh, tearing my eyes from his.

“I promise you Oskie, your brother just loves to screw with my head, there’s nothing more to it than that.”

After our dance, Oz and I join the rest of our group at the bar, we order a couple more rounds of cocktails. Another group of youngsters from the states that are at the party join us. Three boys and three girls, all roughly the same age, definitely the same mentality. I can’t recall all their names, but I do remember one girl’s and one boy’s, Sasha and Ruby. We sit around a bonfire on the beach and enjoy some more cocktails until the early hours talking about random things. When my head starts to feel fuzzy, I stop drinking and switch to water.

“Oh my God, you have to sing us a song,” Ashlyn slurs drunkenly, pointing at the guitar sitting beside Ruby and Sasha.

“Ahh, don’t look at me, that’s all Sash, he’s the musically gifted one in the group.” Ruby smirks at him, resting back on her elbows when he rolls his eyes. “He’s even in a band back home in Texas.”

“You have to sing for us now,” My sister jumps in, smiling at him suggestively. “I’ll start chanting if you don’t.”

Sasha laughs and picks up his guitar. “Please don’t chant, I’ll sing for ya’ll,” he replies with his smooth southern accent that makes my sister melt into a puddle. She’s always been a sucker for boys with an accent. Sasha looks thoughtful for a moment while he strums the strings to the guitar, likely wondering what to sing. I pull my knees to my chest and rest my chin on my knee. Sasha starts playing the guitar and I can’t make out the song he’s playing.

At first, I thought it wasIrisby Goo Goo Dolls, but when he starts singing the lyrics my heart clenches and sinks to the pit of my stomach.When Love and Hate Collideby Def Leppard. Dean is sitting opposite me, the flame to the bonfire flickering between us. Our eyes meet and it takes every bit of strength I have to hold back the stupid tears that threaten to gather in my eyes while we look at one another. Why am I getting so emotional? There’s nothing between us, nothing but a stupid mistake neither of us can take back. I want to get up and walk away, but I can’t. I’m stuck staring into those gripping eyes of his wondering what he’s thinking or if he’s feeling the same things I am.

When I feel the tears coming, I quickly drop my gaze from his and stare at the bonfire. It seems Dean has the same inclination as I do because he gets up and without a word walks off. Lacing my fingers together I press them to my lips and close my eyes waiting for these alien emotions to subside and stop suffocating me.

I’m drunk, that’s why I’m feeling so overly sensitive to whatever these stupid feelings are.

“Where’s he going?” Ashlyn questions, watching Dean walk away.

“Probably gone to take a piss.” Oz answers taking a swing of his beer and casting me a look. I sigh and shake my head sullenly and he smiles back at me sympathetically. After the song ends, I excuse myself; no longer in the mood to party, I feign a headache and head back up to my room before Dean comes back.

As soon as I’m in the confines of my room I strip off the denim shorts and the bikini top I’m wearing and run the shower. I stand under the cool spray for a while, my head back, eyes closed. My head is swimming from the alcohol, and I have one thing on my mind, and I hate myself for it. I hate that my lips crave the taste of his, and that my body aches for him the way it does despite telling myself I can’t stand him. When did I allow him close enough to affect me like this?

I curl my fingers in my wet hair in frustration. “Get out of my head,” I sigh despondently.

The knock at my door distracts me from my thoughts, I ignore it and press myself against the tiled walls of the shower. The knock sounds again and I open my eyes and stare at the bathroom door.

At the third knock, I turn the water off and pull the robe on tying it as I walk out of the bathroom to answer the door and tell whoever it is to kindly fuck off and let me be.

I pull the door open scowling and go still when I see Dean standing there. My eyes wander over the length of him in a pair of plain white shorts and a black wife beater. That’s not what has my breath hitching in my throat, though. The man is glistening with sweat, his chest rising and falling like he’s just run a damn marathon. I swallow to dampen my throat that goes dry the moment I see him.

I can’t find the words to portray the look in his eyes or his demeanour while we stand there wordlessly looking at one another. I can’t tell if he’s here to fight or fuck, but I know it’s going to be one or the other.

The silence stretches between us, and I wait for him to say something.

“Are you lost, Reyes?” I ask, raising an inquisitive brow while taking in his appearance. Dean licks his lips and takes a step into my room, forcing me backward with his hefty frame. Fuck me, the ardour that is exuding off him has me speechless. Dean’s got me locked in his gaze while he advances toward me and kicks the door shut behind him. “Did you hear me invite you in?”

Dean hooks his finger into the tie that’s holding my robe together and yanks me roughly against him. I gasp, staring up at him dumbfounded.

“Kick me out then,” he emits gruffly, pressing his forehead to mine while he pulls open the tie to my robe. His long fingers grip my face, and he tilts my head back, looking me directly in the eyes as if in search of something. “Tell me to get out,” he demands, closing his eyes, his lips ghosting over mine. “Spew your fucking hate for me.”

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