Only With You (Knights #2)

8

JULIANNA

“It’s fine. You’re fine,” I chant under my breath.

I attempt to repeat the mantra, but slowly, the memories of that night start taking over and cloud my thoughts.

Cole trapping me. His body holding me down. His hands all over me, touching me, forcing me.

My heart is sporadically pumping, and I feel hot and claustrophobic. And my body, oh my gosh, it feels like it’s on edge, waiting for something to happen. Everything feels like it’s closing in on me.

My breathing becomes ragged, and goosebumps erupt across my entire body. I shudder at the reminder that this is the same way I felt that night.

Squeezing my eyes, I fan my face and remind myself like that night, nothing happened. The memories are somewhat foggy, but I remember how he was on top of me. I remember being hot, so damn hot. I remember telling him no, yet my body wasn’t reacting that way because it felt desperate. Still, I know I told him no, but he didn’t care.

He says I wanted it because I was grinding against him, but I swear I didn’t. I swear…my nose stings and my eyes water.

I know I was drugged that night but I can’t prove it. Sometimes I feel crazy and wonder if maybe I just got really drunk. But I know I had one drink. I hate how this always happens. How I always second-guess myself and feel so fucking stupid because I desperately want to remember all the details, but I can’t.

If I was drugged, how it happened is beyond me. I’ve never done drugs and I don’t accept drinks from just anyone or set it anywhere.

I’ve never hated myself or felt more pathetic. I’m not a victim. I’m just a naive idiot who trusted someone I shouldn’t have.

“Hollywood?”

I go rigid and shriek so loud it echoes throughout the alleyway.

“It’s me, Landon.”

I should’ve immediately recognized that accent and the stupid nickname, but my mind went straight to Cole. But now that I know it’s him, I feel oddly…okay. My heart is beating normally and I don’t feel like I’m suffocating.

Dropping my hand to my side, I peel my eyes open and crane my head back. Lo and behold, Landon Taylor stands in front of me, and for the first time, his expression isn’t vacant. At least, his eyes aren’t because what they hold is anger.

Lowering my gaze, I stare straight at his chest, wanting nothing more than to be able to disappear. This isn’t how I envisioned my Saturday night. Running into Cole, and now Landon being here and catching me on the brink of an anxiety attack.

Despite the laughter and chatter in the distance, the muted music from inside, the silence between him and me feels overwhelming.

Pushing the strap of my shoulder bag up, I stare up at him again.

“Why are you here?” The abrupt question filters out of my mouth, but I don’t regret how harsh it sounds. I’ve also pregamed before coming, so anything I say isn’t my fault.

“Why are you here?” He echoes my question, matching my tone.

“Well, I’m here to smell the fucking flowers,” I sarcastically answer, keeping my tone as aggressive as before. “Why are you here?”

“Well, I’m here to smell the fucking flowers,” he repeats, still matching my tone.

His response should be irritating, but it has the opposite effect. For some inexplicable reason, my lips curve upward and I smile.

It feels wrong smiling at something he said, but I can’t help it and I’m going to blame this all on the tequila shots I had tonight.

I press my lips together to stop them from growing, but they only rise higher.

Note to self: never drink with Polly and Gabby again!

Clearing my throat, I blow a steady breath and open my mouth to ask him again what he’s doing here. But my tipsy brain takes over and I say something else instead.

“I always knew you were obsessed with me. Unless I’m hallucinating, you’re standing right in front of me. A little too close, might I add.”

He takes a few steps back. “I’m not here because I’m obsessed with you. Don’t ever say anything revolting like that ever again.”

I wryly chuckle. “If you say so.”

“A state in which someone thinks about someone or something constantly or frequently, especially in a way that’s not normal.”

“What?” I stare, feeling dumbfounded.

“The definition of obsession,” he supplies, his voice posh and dry as ever. “ That doesn’t define me. You’d have to be remotely somewhat of my type for me to even consider the thought of thinking of you constantly or frequently . And you’re far from my type.”

I blink, trying to process his words, but I’m having a hard time figuring out which one I want to focus on. Him knowing the definition of obsession or saying I’m not his type.

My mind goes back and forth on the two, but it decides to settle on the one I shouldn’t.

I try to ignore that thought and focus on what really matters, but my mind can’t seem to let it go. I fold my arms against my chest, but when I catch his gaze slipping to it, I can’t hide my grin.

“I’m not your type, yet you’re always looking at my boobs.”

My smile drops and I immediately regret saying that. I should probably walk away with whatever dignity I still have left.

“I may be fascinated with your boobs, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

I almost choke on my own saliva, because I didn’t anticipate for him to bluntly say that. When I see the twitch on his cheek, I roll my eyes because he knows he caught me off guard, but I’m also sure he said that to fuck with me.

“Right.”

“I don’t bullshit. It’s pointless, unnecessary, and a waste of time. If I wanted to lie, I wouldn’t have said anything at all. You have amazing tits. There’s no point in denying the truth.” He pauses for a second. “So, why are you here alone?”

The question drags me back to reality, reminding me how I ended up here.

I should’ve stayed home, but I promised the girls I’d go out with them. I also promised myself I’d make an effort not to let Cole get to me. But as soon as I ran into him, it’s like I was taken back to that night and I froze.

When he left, I didn’t think. Just like that night, I walked away as far as I could and didn’t look back. Until I bumped into Landon.

History has a funny way of repeating itself. Although this time, I didn’t bump into him. Landon followed me.

“Julianna, why the fuck are you here alone? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is?” It’s not the irritation in his voice that throws me off, or the fact that he raised his voice at me. No, it has everything to do with him saying my name.

It’s not the time to focus on something so insignificant, but for as long as I’ve known him, he’s never said my name. He’s called me that girl a few times, Hollywood most of the time, and when he’s feeling extra petty, he’ll call me it .

“Hey.” He snaps his finger, dragging me from my zoned out state. “Are you high again?”

I glare. “No, I’m not high.”

He unknowingly helped me that night. He doesn’t know what happened and I never told him. All he knows is that I was high because he thought I took something willingly. I never corrected him.

“Then what the fuck, Julianna?” His anger spikes and his eyes harden.

My irritation flares. I didn’t ask him to follow me, and I sure as hell don’t understand what he’s still doing here. “Why do you even care?”

“You’re friends with my best friends?—”

“As you can see, I’m perfectly fine.” I wave a hand down my body.

I hate feeling like a burden, and right now, that’s what I feel. Someone who hates me is here and he shouldn’t be. He’s only here out of concern for his best friends.

His eyes follow my hand, but they’re not as quick to come back up. When they do rise, he regards me with a stoic expression. “What are you wearing?”

“Clothes.” I look down at myself, hoping I didn’t get something on me.

I look exactly like I did when I left the apartment. I’m wearing a black ruched top that’s tied at the back, black leather pants, and black heels. My lips are stained a cherry red and my hair is in a high ponytail.

He hums. “That’s a lot of black.”

“Nice observation. Do you want to add anything else?” I don’t comment on the lack of colors he wears. It’s always something black or dark, never anything light.

His eyes briefly flick to my lips before they lift. “No.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine. You can leave.”

There’s a slight tick on his bearded jaw. I expect him to say something along the lines that I’m on my own and for him to walk away. But I should know better than to expect anything out of him because he doesn’t leave or say anything.

Taking a step back, he leans against the wall across from me and crosses his ankle over the other. He grabs his phone from his pocket. The screen lights up his expressionless face, and without saying a word to me, he glides his thumb along the screen.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He cocks a brow, but doesn’t look up from the screen. “Can’t you see, or must I describe it to you in detail?”

“Look”—I suck in a breath, hoping I’ll be able to keep my frustration at bay—“I understand you feel the need to be here out of obligation to your best friends, but you don’t need to be here.”

He heaves a sigh and tucks his phone in his pocket. “I’m not here out of obligation for my friends. I’m here because you being alone isn’t okay. It’s reckless and careless that you’re inconsiderate to yourself and your safety.”

I just felt like I was drowning! Like I was suffocating! Like I wasn’t in my own body!

I want to scream those words, but I don’t. I swallow the heavy, splinter-like words down my throat and force a smile, because it’s what I do best.

It’s the only thing I’m good at.

If he already thinks I’m being reckless and careless for being out here alone, I can only imagine what he’ll think if he knows what really happened that night.

“Didn’t know you cared so much about me or my safety.”

“Gabby and Polly would probably never shut up if something happened to you. So, wipe that grin off your face. You’re not that important,” he flatly replies and pushes off the wall, giving me an unamused look. “Are you done being a brat? We need to go inside.”

I scoff. “A brat? I’m not a brat.”

Landon lifts a brow, and a small ghost of a smile touches his lips before it’s gone. “No, of course not. My apologies. You’re a fucking child. Now, let’s go inside.”

“Oh my gosh!” I raise my hands, tempting me to choke him.

“Do it. I dare you. Choke me,” he taunts, but something else lurks behind his words.

My brows rise, and my hands fall to my sides. “What? No, I wasn’t?—”

Landon winds his hands behind his back. His gaze dips to my hands, then to my lips before it adjusts to my eyes. “I don’t like the back and forth. It’s underwhelming and boring. You and I both know you want to choke me. For whatever reason, it seems my neck fascinates you, so let’s put each other out of our misery so we can go back inside.”

My lips part, but I can’t manage to let anything out. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around what he just insinuated.

“Are you seriously saying that I should…choke you?”

“Sure, why not?” He shrugs apathetically. “If it’ll make you feel better. Have at it.”

With stupefaction, I stare and wait for him to say he’s kidding, but that doesn’t happen.

I step back, brushing away the curiosity swarming in my head. “I’m not going to choke you. Are you insane?”

He shrugs again. “It’s light choking, unless you’re contemplating murder?”

My brows pinch as my lips part and close. “No, I’m not, and as enticing as it sounds, I’m going to have to pass. You’re not worth it.”

“Then, we’re good.”

Unblinking, I gape at the man before me. Wondering if maybe I had more shots than I thought I originally took and just can’t remember.

“No, I’m not going to choke you. Would you choke me if I asked you?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but I hope he gets my point, but his sardonic chuckle tells me otherwise.

“Yeah.”

My eyes grow wide and my cheeks become irrationally warm.

What exactly did I drink again?

I narrow my eyes. “Sure you would.”

“Give me consent and I will.”

I chuckle now at how ridiculous this sounds. Not the consent part, but what he’s implying. “You want me to give you consent to choke me?”

He nods, staring at me with a grave expression. “I don’t take consent lightly. I need your word that it’s what you want. I don’t like miscommunication or misunderstandings.”

My lips purse as I contemplate it. What the hell is wrong with me? What was in that tequila or in the air because I’m thinking about it. And I can’t shut down the thought.

That’s why I find myself nodding and saying, “Okay. I give you consent to choke me.”

He wouldn’t seriously do it, right? Sure, he’s here and oddly staring at me, but he wouldn’t touch me.

One moment, his hands are behind his back. The next, one hand is wrapped around my neck. If my eyes could leave their sockets, they would have, because they’re bulging out.

I’m too stunned to speak or move. A burst of adrenaline ripples through me and I’m not sure it’s a bad thing. I’m brought out of my daze when my feet begin to move backward.

Landon moves forward with his hand on me. His palm is rough. I can feel the calluses, but his grip isn’t tight. It’s comfortable and weirdly enough, it feels as if it’s a perfect fit.

Did I really think that? Oh my God, I’m drunker than I thought.

When I feel the cool brick against my back, he steps closer to me, but he never presses his body to mine. But he’s close enough that I can feel the warmth of his body and get the faint scent of his cologne.

He leans down until his warm breath fans the shell of my ear, and his beard grazes it. “If you think it, commit to it. I didn’t take you for a quitter,” he rasps. “Next time, don’t think, just do.”

I swallow and that’s when I feel him lightly squeeze.

“You miss out on a lot of fun when you think too much.” I can’t see his face, but I’m pretty sure he’s smirking. “See how easy this is? You could have had me at your mercy, but instead, you’re at mine.”

My face burns and strangely, so does my body. I have no idea what’s going on, but another shudder rolls down my spine.

“Only because I gave you consent, so stop sounding so smug,” I counter, but cringe at how breathless I sound.

He squeezes some more, the air around me becoming harder to breathe. I should tell him to stop, but I can’t bring myself to. I feel trapped in a haze, my curiosity at an all-time high, wondering what’s going to happen next.

This is so wrong. I shouldn’t wonder, but…

“You did, and still, here you are. So willing,” he murmurs, and I feel the soft vibration of his words against my chest.

I don’t realize how heavy my heart is beating until the pad of his thumb digs into my skin where my pulse hammers ridiculously. And it’s not until I clench my thighs that I finally snap out of it.

My hands become clammy and my face is hotter than before. There’s no way I did that. Not for him. Fuck that. I didn’t do that.

“Let go.”

It’s all that I have to say for him to drop his hand, but that’s not the shocking part. Though, it’s sad that I’m surprised it didn’t take much. What stuns me is him holding my purse. “You almost dropped this. Consider it my good deed of the year.”

I scoff a laugh and grab it from his extended hand. “Good deed of the year?”

“I didn’t let it fall to the ground when I could have.”

It’s good to know he wasn’t affected by whatever that was. Not that I was affected, most definitely not.

“Thanks.” I look away, feeling so much and so little at the same time.

“So, are we leaving or staying?”

His question shocks me. I expected him to persuade me into going inside.

I should go in, but what if I run into Cole again? I blow out a shaky breath. “Staying, but don’t start complaining and begging me to go back inside because you feel like you’re missing out.”

His brows rise. “What would I be missing out on?”

“All the fun Liquid has to offer,” I mock.

“You’re doing me a favor.”

I don’t ask what he means by that. In silence, he leans against one side of the brick wall and I against the other.