Trying Not To Love You

Chapter 28

"..It's-" I cut him off as he starts to tell me some stupid words. I cross my legs and look at him in the eyes, "The one Dean has with me is love. And the one Dean has with you is attraction."

He thinks about my words and cuts his finger accidentally. "Ouch.." He shakes his hand and sucks his finger in his mouth. I get off the counter and pat his shoulder, "Be careful, Seth. You couldn't handle this little much pain at least so just understand, you can't take the pain if you mistake his attraction in you as love." I warn him and get out of the kitchen.

When I enter the living room, Dean looks out of his book and asks, "Did you finish helping him?"

"He didn't like me helped him in the kitchen like you told that day." I give him a slight smile and sit on the couch beside him. I talk to him casually and try to attract him on my side.

Seth POV:

I wanted to cry since the morning after the talk with Becky, but I couldn't because Dean was in the house with me at that time. But now he is not with me so I cry hard and try to forget her words.

I take my phone out to call Dean but decide against it. I get scared of him still not reach the house after he went out of the evening. I look over at the clock as it ticks 3.42 am and hope he will reach home safely.

The key in the door drives me to my feet and I bolt to the door as Dean staggers in with the stench of alcohol wafting off him. I recoil in disgust, horrified. "Where the hell have you been?" I demand, crossing my arms over my chest.

He shuts the door behind him and says, "Drinking. Why are you so pissed off?"

I lose my control for his slovenly answer and gape at him, "Because I've been worried sick, Dean! You didn't act like this before!"

He smirks and leans against the wall with his eyes closed, "You sound like a jealous boyfriend."

I take a step back, not wanting to talk to him, but he straightens and reaches his hands out to grab my hips. "If you're going to act like my boyfriend, can I at least get some?"

"Fuck you, Dean." I feel sick so I try to move away from him but he suddenly pins me against the wall. My nose creases from the smell of alcohol from him so I look away, not wanting to talk to him.

His fingers grip fiercely around my wrists as he presses his body against mine. "I think it's time for you and I have ourselves a little conversation. What happened?" He asks and looks into my eyes.

I squirm in his hold and plead with him, "Let me go. Dean, please.."

"You're a sick motherfucker." He growls quietly. His hand releases my wrist and cups my cheek gently, "I saw Becky's approach with you in the kitchen earlier. What is going on between you two?"

A tear forms on my eyes as I try to jerk my head away, but his hand tightens its grip and locks in place. "You're drunk," I mumble with desperation in my voice.

He stares at me and asks, "If I wasn't, would that change anything?"

"No." I swallow hard and clench my eyes shut, tears sliding down on my cheeks as I brace myself, flinching.

I open my eyes and see him staring at me with an unreadable look on his face. "Can I really not make you happy?" He asks, his voice is soft and almost sad.

I stare up at him, bewildered. I feel like I'm trapped between him and his girlfriend. I blink my eyes as he leans forward and presses a kiss on my cheek. "You win again, darling." He says and moves away from me.

"I'm sorry," I mumble and grab his hand, inhaling his alcohol scent. He must drink at least four bottles of beer so he can't remember anything if I say so. At least he will sleep peacefully tonight if I tell him what happened. And the itching in my heart will also stop with the thought of spilling out everything with him.

I look down and tell him everything that happened in the restaurant with his girlfriend. I sigh and let out a quick breath, "I wouldn't tell this if you were not drunk. Anyway, you'll forget everything the next morning. At least you can sleep now peacefully without thinking about this."

"I knew you wouldn't tell me anything if I didn't pretend to be drunken." He says and crosses his arms over his chest.

"What? You smell like alcohol!" I look at him with wide eyes, trying to figure out what he is talking about.

A wry smile touches his lips as he wraps his arm around my shoulders, "Yeah, I had a shot. One. About three hours ago. And then someone spilled their tequila on me."

My breath catches in my throat, "So you're.."

"As sober as you!" He says and leans his head against mine. "Don't worry, darling. I'll keep Becky in her limit." He grumbles and I don't remember when he lost his shirt until I shiver at the feel of the bare flesh against my own.

I swallow the lump in my throat and turn to cup his cheeks, "Maybe I'm not experienced in love but I knew how it would be so don't talk to her about this. Promise me.."

He refuses to accept, but I force him and make him admit it. "I promise." He mumbles and gives me a soft smile.