Only With You (Knights #2)

9

LANDON

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and when I pull it out, I see a handful of messages from my friends.

Polly: Jag told us you’re with Juls? If this is true, you better not be an asshole!

Gabby: Please be nice to her.

Jagger: I had to tell them, they wouldn’t stop asking.

I roll my eyes as I read through the rest of their messages and the new ones that come in.

Sure, I’m not the nicest person alive, but I’m also not the worst. I could let them know where we’re at, but one quick glance at Hollywood and I decide against it. Her gaze is cast downward and she rolls something, I’m assuming a rock, beneath her heel.

I’m not sure why she’s out here and I don’t care. We may have our differences, but I’m not going to leave her out here alone.

Me: I’m being civil.

Polly: Civil? Do you even know what that means?

Polly: Where are you guys? We’ll meet you wherever you’re at.

Gabby: Is Juls okay?

Jagger: Seriously, are you both okay? I need you alive this season, and Juls, well, she needs to be alive.

Polly: You better be nice or I’ll fuck you up Landon. I’m not playing around. She’s our friend, so you better be good to her or Roxy gets it!

I take another glimpse at her. She’s still doing the same thing, except my attention now draws to her large chest.

Stop looking.

I shift it to the goosebumps that dot her arms. There were a few at first, but now they’ve spread vastly over her exposed skin.

We’re leaning toward the end of September. Occasionally, the wind picks up, but it’s not chilly or warm. Just comfortable.

“You’d be warmer inside.”

“I’m not cold.” She drops her arms, and as she does, I’m ashamed to admit my lips part. Because the joke of a top she’s wearing does nothing to hide her hard nipples.

She should probably consider getting her money back, because it does a shit job to cover her chest. The material looks like it’s stretchy and immensely thin, and despite it being black, it’s sheer.

Fuck.

“Right.” I clear my throat and look back at my phone.

More messages flood my screen. All worried for the girl standing in front of me. The girl who seems very adamant on not wanting to go inside.

I type out that we’re outside in the alley, and right as I’m about to hit send, my thumb hesitates and hovers over the send button.

What am I doing? She’s not my problem. I’ve done my due diligence. She’s safe. I need to hit send and have Gabby and Polly come out here and get her to go back inside. I’m positive they’d be able to accomplish that. Because I sure as shit am not going to be the person who does.

Scrubbing my palm over my chin, I triple tap on the text box and tap cut.

At least now, I don’t have to be inside.

Me: She’s fine. Stop worrying, we’ll be inside in a few.

Me: And do not say another word, Polly Victoria Allen. Not another fucking word.

My phone vibrates and I’ve no doubt they’re blowing up the group chat. I ignore it because I know Jagger will handle it. He’s good at simultaneously talking and being nice.

“I’m sorry.”

I’m taken aback, not sure I heard that right. “What are you sorry for?”

“That you’re out here with me. I just needed a moment to breathe. It’s hot in there, but I’m ready to go in.” She plasters a smile on her face.

I’ve unfortunately had the displeasure of running into her so many times that I know it’s fake. It doesn’t match her eyes that are begging for what exactly? I’m not sure, and her body posture is too tense like she’s uncomfortable.

Oh no, this is not okay. We don’t do this. I—fuck—I don’t do this. I don’t analyse her and wonder what’s going on in her head.

Something has shifted. Might have been the world’s axis or fuck if I know…something had to have definitely collided, because I don’t like to concern myself with things that don’t pertain to me. Especially Julianna Sparks of all people.

She and I, we don’t align. We’re so malignant toward each other. We in no shape or form make sense, that’s why I always stray away from her.

There’s one thing that’s always been certain and it’s our petty arguments. Those make sense—those are the things that I, from time to time, like to entertain because I thrive on pissing her off.

I enjoy seeing the way her eyes narrow into slits as if she’s plotting my death. The way her plump lips tighten into a straight line or flash me a patronising smirk. And my favourite, when I’m able to provoke a spark of vehemence in her electric sapphire eyes.

That’s when I know she’s about to say something that is equally going to infuriate and amuse me. As much as she annoys me, it also slightly entertains my dull and blasé life.

I’m sure what I’m about to say is going to cause some uproar in my head. I say it anyway, because I’m not an overthinker or a person who likes to think of the what-ifs.

I just do.

It keeps my life in balance and keeps me from spiralling.

“Don’t apologise, I chose to be here. And I don’t mind being out here with you.”

She studies me intently. A small crease forms between her eyebrows, but then she laughs. It’s soft like her skin and there’s a bit of a rasp to it.

“Are you drunk? Possibly high?” She mocks a gasp and snaps her fingers. “That’s it. It explains why you’re being so…” she trails off, and I see the pain in her eyes, like it’s killing her to say what she’s thinking. “Nice.”

It’s good to know she’s finally come to her senses.

“Don’t make assumptions. I don’t drink, so don’t ever assume that about me.”

She raises her hands in surrender, her lips twitching like she’s fighting off a smile. “So sorry. You’re just being oddly kind. This is so unlike you. It’s weird.”

I roll my eyes at her sarcasm. “I genuinely envy the people who have been privileged to not know of your existence. Imagine how at peace they are.”

She pins me with a glare. “I hate you.”

“I can’t say I’m too keen on you either.”

“You’re insufferable.”

I fold my arms against my chest. “Takes one to know one, right?”

A smile touches her lips. “Seriously, how did you negotiate your way out of Hell? Who did you bribe? Which poor soul did you sacrifice? Because there’s no way they’d just let you out.”

I can’t help the deep chuckle that claws out. “I offered you, of course.”

She stands straighter. Somehow that causes her already large breasts to push out more. It’s criminal how pornographic they look and how I can’t stop staring.

When our eyes connect again, a smug smile tips her mouth. She knows I was staring at her chest and I can’t be arsed to hide how appealing it looks.

“If you’re done looking, I’m ready to go.”

I don’t understand why the air around us feels strangely hot, yet tense like it did when my hand was wrapped around her slender neck. It was soft and delicate, and her scent was overwhelming, but in a way I didn’t hate. There was a hint of something sweet and exotic, but also airy. I can still smell it on me, and whatever she’s wearing, it’s not cheap.

“Let’s go then, Angel.”

Irritations mars her face. “What the hell is up with you and all these nicknames?”

“I thought that was better or is it not?” I tilt my head from one side, then the other, examining the deep scowl on her face. It almost makes me smile. “Angel seems fitting, no?”

Despite her all-black attire, minus her crimson red lips, looking at her feels blinding. It’s annoying.

A defiant smirk spreads across her face. “Just like Spawn of Satan. It’s fitting, no?”

“I suppose.” My cheek twitches.

Her blonde ponytail sways as she starts walking away and peers over her shoulder at me. “Are you coming, Landon?”

Snowy white and electric sapphire swirl in my head.

My name leaving her lips catches me off guard.

“Coming.” I fall into step next to her, and in silence, we walk back inside.