A costly flop
(Ashley)
I blink awake, my eyes struggling to adjust to the light streaming into the room. But then, my mind reels with satisfaction as I noticed my hands wrapped around a firm body.
Dean, I mutter inwardly, flipping my half awake eyes open, a smile creeps up my face as I tilt my head, holding onto his body firmly.
And then I pause, my face drains of any color, realizing who was sleeping next to me.
My mind is still a hazy mess, I look around and it isn't Dean's room, it's mine.
I froze, pulling my hands away from him quickly, his body reacts to my sudden hand withdrawal but he doesn't wake up.
Still in shock, I flipped the bedsheet open, taking a look, I'm naked, we both are.
Fuck shit! What have I done?
It was supposed to be Dean sleeping next to me, cuddled up in each other's arms and not this gigolo, this good for nothing jackass.
I clench my teeth hard in frustration.
Last night was supposed to be my best night, a night I anticipated for with every fiber of my being, but it has turned out to be a nightmare.
I was this close, just this close to getting what I truly deserve.
I clutch to the bedsheet, hoping to hold my anger down but it's not working.
In a fit of rage, I tap his body aggressively, my eyes blazing with an intense anger.
He toss a little, grumbling incoherently. Pissed, I blurted out, tapping him harder. "Wake up!" I seethe. "Wake up you idiot,"
He toss and turned, forcing his eyes open. "Hey, you're awake," he says with a strained voice.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I fume, cutting him off sharply. He looks at me in confusion.
I pull the bedsheets open again, taking a look. "Did we—?" I trail off, dreading the obvious.
He just stares at me like I'm being ridiculous, adjusting himself on the bed.
I don't wait for his response. "How did we end up like this?" I ask, my voice tight.
He rubs his eyes, and then runs a hand through his hair. "I brought you home last night," he divulged. "You were acting a bit off, oversexed even," he discloses, his eyes darting on me, like he's expecting some sort of explanation.
I blink, his words hitting me hard. "You took advantage of me, didn't you?" I accused, knowing fully well that it isn't the truth.
He rolls his eyes and I see his jaw tighten at my accusation. "What? No!" He spat, more annoyed than anything. "On the contrary, Ashley. You were all over me last night, begging to be fucked so badly," he let the words out, unfiltered.
That teed me off so greatly. He gets to beg for my attention, and not the other way round. I call the shots here.
Now, he damn well thinks he's important, hell no! He's a nobody.
I hold his gaze, my eyes fierce with anger. "You know what? Just leave!" I commanded, my tone stern, not wanting to engage him, I can't stand the sight of him right now.
He chuckles, one that comes from a place of disbelief. "As expected," he says, his voice strained. "You use and toss me away like an object but not anymore, Ashley." he spat, his voice firm as he reached out for his clothes littered on the floor.
I hold his gaze, my lips pressing into a thin line. He isn't serious, is he?
He wouldn't dare!
"I blame myself for letting this go on for far too long, for letting you blackmail me into warming your bed every damn time. But that ends right now," he says in a stern tone, his voice serious, more serious than it's ever been.
Actually, I've never really seen him this fierce, this outspoken, he's never talked back at me, never rebelled this much.
He slips into his clothes, and leans closer, his eyes darting on me, there's a look on his face I can't quite discern, but then he smirks. "He's never loved you and he never will. You know who has his heart, quit trying, you're pathetic!" He gives a mock smirk.
His words echoes in my head, the sting of his taunt cutting deep. I raise my hand to deliver a hot slap but it doesn't land on his face, he holds my wrist, stopping me mid-swing.
"Don't you dare!" He sneered, his face is tight with deprecation.
I glare at him disdainfully. "Get out!" I fume, trying to break free from his hold.
He gives me an acid smile, knowing he has struck a nerve, he lets go of my hand in a swift fling and then he picks his phone and storms off, slamming the door behind him.
Idiot!
He's a fucking nitwit!
Who does he think he is? I'll clip his wings.
I clench my fist hard, my jaw tightens.
But then, my thoughts spirals, the confusion gnawing at me.
How come?
Why does it have to be this jerk this time?
It should have been Dean with me, I've fantasized about last night, I've prepared myself to do everything and anything to make it a memorable night, one he'd never forget.
I don't get it. I shake my head, I slipped that drug into Dean's glass. I did, I'm sure I did.
And I watch him take a sip, like he literally emptied his glass.
He was supposed to be the intoxicated one and not me.
How did this happen? My thoughts are a little fuzzy. I remember Dean asking me to get the door, and me returning back to the living room with the pizza he had ordered for us. The rest are blurry.
What could have gone wrong?
This is a big flop. Judy and Elena will be so pissed.
I don't know what else to think.
Now, I can only hope that Dean didn't suspect anything.
Else, I'll be damned if he does.