Only With You (Knights #2)

16

LANDON

“So let me get this straight.” Jag pauses, pulling his shirt over his head. “You’re going to tutor Julianna Sparks? The blond-haired, blue-eyed girl with the smart-ass mouth? The same girl who hit Roxy freshman year? The girl who lives with our best friends, that girl? The girl you wholeheartedly despise?”

“I told you to stop calling it Roxy.” I hate that he’s adamant on calling my car that.

“Beside the point.” He sits on his chair in front of his locker and grabs one of his sneakers. “Do you really think it’s going to work out? You and her can’t go a few minutes without arguing. How are you going to manage a whole semester?”

“It just will,” I reply, turning my back to him.

I didn’t give him a chance to ask me questions when I got home last night. Polly couldn’t keep her mouth shut and announced my decision to tutor Hollywood on our group chat.

I’ve ignored him all day. During morning conditioning, film class, lunch, practice, and now in the locker room. He’s persistent and being annoying as fuck. I thought Gabby and Polly were nosey, but Jagger exceeds that.

Grabbing my trousers, I pull them over my legs and finish getting dressed.

“But—”

“Jag,” I cut him off with a bite in my tone. “It’s just tutoring.”

When I turn around, a sly smile stretches across his face. “Just tutoring?”

I stare apathetically, grabbing my chain from my locker. “What more do you want to know? You’ve done tutoring. You know how it goes. Why are you making something out of nothing?”

“Because you and her are volatile. One wrong look. One wrong word. One wrong breath. One wrong anything and it’s game over. You two set each other off so easily. I just don’t want there to be strife where there doesn’t need to be any. You’re my best friend and?—”

“Against my better judgement.”

His eyes gleam. “You say that, but you love me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t know things about me.”

I drag my fingers through my damp hair, pushing the wayward strands away from my forehead. “Everything I know about you, or anyone, is against my will.”

Some have taken my silence as a way for them to open up to me. Sometimes, it feels like I have this Talk To Me sign on my forehead because people talk whether I like it or not.

For instance, Polly. She told me her entire life story. She became an open vault I had no desire to unlock. And don’t get me started on Jayden. But the only positive to his chattiness is that it’s mostly about food. When he talks about food, he gets hungry; therefore, he cooks and shares with me. And I’ll never turn his food away, it’s too good.

“Yet you stuck around, so point for me, zero for you.” He curls his fingers, making a zero sign with his hand.

I’d punch his stupid grin if I didn’t like him so much. He annoys me at times, but he’s indeed my best friend.

“Whatever,” I mutter.

“Back to what I was saying. Julianna, well…she’s Gabby’s and Polly’s roommate and they really like her. So you two don’t need to be making things awkward for them.”

“Awkward?” It’s rhetorical and he knows it. “Gabby, sure, but shall I remind you who Polly Allen is? That girl wouldn’t know what awkward was if it smacked her in the face.”

She’s the kind of person who welcomes uncomfortable situations with arms wide open. It’s why she hasn’t walked away from this friendship even though I’ve given her many reasons to. She’s also very oblivious, but that’s beside the point.

Then there’s Gabby. She’s too kind for her own good.

“It’ll be fine. Either way, she has me on a two-week trial.” I scoff, rolling my eyes at the stupid tutoring contract.

Thinking of it, I wonder if she’s looked at the paper. Something tells me she hasn’t and it’s probably for the best, because what I wrote was only to fuck with her.

Though…I’ve been thinking about what I wrote. And I can’t get her wet, naked body out of my mind.

I won’t deny that as of yesterday, something triggered a thought I haven’t been able to shut down.

The idea sounds…enticing, but she would probably slap the shit out of me. No, I know she will, because what I suggested is fucked-up, but then again, it’s really not. It just depends on how she’s willing to view it.

My best bet, she’ll definitely find a way to end my life.

“Two-week trial?” Jag questions, stifling a snicker. He grabs the tiny silver hoop from his locker and hooks it on the lobe of his right ear. “You’re telling me she’s failing Calc, yet she’s testing you to see if you’re what? Good enough to keep around?”

I nod.

This time, he doesn’t hold back. He throws his head back and cackles. “She doesn’t know that math is your specialty, does she? Or that you were offered a position to work at the university? Huh?”

I was offered and still have it, even though I declined. Yes, I was gifted with the ability to not only remember everything in painstaking detail, but math happens to be something I immensely excel at.

“I don’t care. It never hurts to see the look of disappointment on her face whenever she’s wrong.” I don’t outwardly show it, but inside, I relish the idea.

It’s always a good day whenever she’s wrong and I’m right.

“Did you say you’re tutoring Julianna Sparks?” Quinton, one of my teammates, asks. “The blonde chick in the sorority with the Angelina Jolie lips and white Rover?”

I absently nod, grabbing my phone from my locker, and tuck it in my pocket.

“Bro, she’s hella fine,” Quinton groans and when I look at him, he’s biting his bottom lip, shaking his head. “And she’s got these massive tits.” He raises his hands, cupping them in the air. “What I wouldn’t do to spend a few minutes with her.”

A speck of irritation grows in my chest.

“Too bad she turned you down,” Trae, my other teammate, says with a chuckle.

He scowls at the other guys, who laugh. “Only because she was hanging out with Finnick. Fucking football players. Isn’t that right, Thompson?”

“Right, what are we agreeing on?” Jayden absentmindedly replies while he listens to Saint and Malik go on about something.

“You know, because Cara is dating one of them. Tristan.”

That gets Jayden’s full attention and his head instantaneously swivels in Quinton’s direction. “How do you know that?”

“I saw them yesterday grabbing dinner, and they looked pretty comfortable.”

“Oh…” Jayden tersely replies, looking out of it.

“Anyway, if Finnick hadn’t been there, I’m sure she would’ve given me a chance.”

“Q, just stop. You’re embarrassing yourself.” Trae laughs. “Not even in your dreams would she?—”

“Oh, fuck you.” He flips him off. “In my dreams, she’s…”

He carries on about what he’d like to do to her and my irritation grows into something more. I grab my stuff and go to walk out, but stop in front of Quinton’s locker. He’s still too busy running his mouth about something else now, but he’s pissed me off nonetheless. I swipe his car keys and toss them in the garbage bin.

“You know TJ did that last year, but he didn’t throw them away,” Jagger says from behind me before he falls into step next to me.

TJ overheard Quinton talking about Lola last year and threw his keys into the arena. He never did find them and ended up having to replace them. Unfortunately for Quinton, he’ll have to replace them again.

“I don’t do anything half arsed.”

“Fair enough.” He flashes me a crooked grin. “Are you going over there now?”

“Unfortunately.”

“You know, she’s not that bad.”

I almost falter in my step, but I keep walking. First, my girl best friends, now Jagger. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“What are you doing here?” Julianna asks, confused, but allows me to come inside. “You’re not supposed to be here for another two hours.”

Snowy white and electric sapphire swirl in my head.

She’s not slapping me across the face, so she didn’t read the paper. Good…

“Didn’t feel like driving back and forth,” I explain as I shut the door behind me and slip off my shoes. I don’t take another step into the living room, because she’s staring at me with an unreadable expression. “What?”

She stands by the kitchen, crossing one lean leg over the other. Pursing her lips, her gaze gravitates to something on the counter and then to me.

“I’m going to make dinner. Would you like some?”

That momentarily stuns me, but I push through the shock and narrow my eyes at her. “They’ll know you’re the last person I was with.”

She squints her eyes like she’s confused. “What do—” And then the realisation settles on her face. “If I wanted to kill you, this isn’t the way I would go about it. As exciting as the idea sounds, I really need you, so there will be no killing…today.”

I drag my teeth along my bottom lip to hold back the smile tempting to make itself present. “Just make sure when you do decide to end my life, it makes it on the ID channel. Jagger has an obsession with it, and it’d make his day.”

Her cheek twitches, but her lips stay flat. “Duly noted. I’ll make sure you get an episode on Disappeared , titled”—her eyes sparkle with glee and she waves her hand in the air like she’s picturing it—“ The Devil’s Lost Twin. ”

“Funny,” I dryly state.

“I’m very hilarious if I do say so myself.” Julianna pats herself on the back.

“You should really consider shutting up.” I cross the living room and step into the kitchen.

“Mmm, no, that’s never going to happen.”

“You should really consider it. Your silence is a euphoric experience. I pity anyone who won’t get to experience it. Don’t deprive the world of your silence.”

She rolls her lips together, then a sickeningly sweet smile stretches across her face. Her eyes burn with so much vehemence, I can feel it singe my skin.

“Don’t be bitter that you’ve only heard me speak.”

What she sounds like in bed has never crossed my mind. At least, not until yesterday after I wrote down my suggestion. Now, I wonder what kind of sounds leave those plump lips. Breathy? Raspy? Loud? Soft? A combination of everything that I’ve not even named?

What the hell am I thinking?

“There’s nothing to be bitter about.”

She shrugs. “I’m starving. Do you want to eat or not?”

My attention falls to the food laid out on the counter. “You know how to cook?”

Julianna stiffens briefly before her body eases and leans her hip against the counter. “No, of course not.” She gives me a tight-lipped smile and picks up the knife, but grabs it by the blade. “I have a chef who comes over and cooks all of my meals. I just stand here and look pretty. After all, I’m a blonde Barbie bitch who lives off of her daddy’s money.”

She waves the knife in the air, still holding it by the blade.

I recognize those words and I realise now that she overheard my conversation with Nikki. She’s a girl who’s best friends with Leah.

We don’t usually hang out, not unless Leah is around. I don’t even hang around Leah like that, but I know her brother. He lives with the guy who does my tattoos.

Of course one of the few times I’m around Nikki, Julianna overhears that exact conversation. She has a disdain for the sororities. I’m not sure why, but she didn’t hold back.

I didn’t necessarily say anything to agree, but I also didn’t disagree.

“Stop holding the knife like that.”

“Like what?” She eyes the object in her hand like it’s foreign to her.

I’d grab it, but I’m positive she’d stab me. “Put the fucking knife down. You’re going to cut yourself.”

“Oh, I’m touched. I had no idea you cared that much about me.” She places her hand over her chest, the blade digging into her palm.

A pinch of frustration burrows in my chest. “I don’t, but I’m not in the mood to clean up your blood.”

I go to grab the knife, but it all happens too fast. I don’t only feel completely taken aback, but I’m really fucking impressed, because somehow, she’s managed to flip the knife. The tip of it is pointed at my chest and she has this look in her eyes like she won’t hesitate to stab me.

Goddamn.

“This foreplay is getting boring.” Far from it. “Either do it, or put it down.”

“Like you, I’m also not in the mood to clean up blood.”

Spinning on her heel, she grabs a raw chicken breast and slices it in half.

“I didn’t say anything.”

She lets out a humourless laugh. “You didn’t have to. Your silence said it all. You love to make assumptions about me when you don’t even know me.”

I say nothing, because I’m not sure what to really say. I did and didn’t expect this conversation to turn into this. Jagger wasn’t wrong when he said we’re volatile.

When we’re near each other, it doesn’t take much to set us off. Like this simple question. I was genuinely curious, but I guess I could have worded it differently.

“If you’re done standing there and taking up space, go sit down before I really stab you and give you salmonella.” The corner of her mouth tugs upward.

“What do you need help with?”

She freezes, the knife suspended in the air. “I swear if this is a dig at me not knowing how to cook, I’m going to kick you out.”

“No, this isn’t a dig…” I tuck the chain under my shirt. “I’m sorry.”

She stares at me like I’ve gone mad. “What did you say?”

I’ll admit I’m a dick, and I acknowledge that. I can also acknowledge when I’m wrong.

“I’m sorry about the way I worded that. It wasn’t my intention to piss you off. At least, not today.”

She looks unimpressed, but a flicker of humour flashes in her eyes. It only lasts a millisecond because she now looks puzzled.

“Did you really just apologize to…me?”

I shift from one foot to the other, hating the way her eyes bore into me. I’m used to her contemptuous looks filled with hatred, but this isn’t something I’m used to.

“Was I not clear enough?”

“No. Say it again. I blinked.”

I glower at her. “What does you blinking have anything to do with you not hearing what I said?”

A haughty, obnoxious smirk lifts on her lips. “It just does.”

That makes no sense and now she’s really pissing me off. She knows it and I’m pretty sure she’s waiting for me to go off. No one pushes my buttons more than Julianna fucking Sparks. She just loves to act like a brat.

“I’m not going to repeat myself again.”

“It was worth a try.” She directs her attention back to the chicken, but I can’t bring myself to focus on anything else because of what appears on her face.

Her lips curl upward in what looks like a…genuine smile?

When I blink, I’m surprised to find it’s still there. It’s broad and so bright, I can feel the warmth that emanates from it.

I’ve never been on the receiving end of them. She smiled at me at Liquid, but I know that was the alcohol. This one is different. I’ve never deserved or cared for them, but I’ll admit…it’s pretty.

The atmosphere feels hot and thick, causing pressure to build in my chest.

Fucking heartburn. Shouldn’t have eaten those spicy crisps last night.

I dip my head to fully see her face, and still the smile lingers. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” she asks, setting the knife in the sink, and washes her hands.

“That thing on your lips. Julianna Sparks, are you smiling at me?”

Her eyes grow and as if she realises what she’s doing, her lips cast downward and she turns her back to me. “What? No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“You are,” I argue, standing right behind her.

“I’m not,” she counters firmly and turns to look up at me.

My breath hitches.

The smile is back, but now it’s small, soft, and shy.

But that’s not the only thing that’s different. The space between us feels oddly magnetic, like there’s an invisible string pulling us toward each other, and it isn’t gentle either. It feels overwhelmingly hot, rough, and desperate.

“You were smiling for me.”

“You’re seeing things.” Her gaze slides to my lips, as do mine, and temptation bites the air between us.

My fingers flex at my sides, coaxing me to reach out to her, but the sensible part of me smacks across the face. Reminding me that nothing good would come out of whatever is happening right now.

We’re chaotically inflammable.

Stepping back, I clear my throat and grab a clean knife from a drawer. “I’ll help you cut the vegetables.”

We stand side by side, while I work on cutting the zucchini, bell peppers, and onions as she checks the rice then seasons the chicken.

“I really don’t need your help. I know how to cook.”

“I’m sure you’re competent enough in the kitchen, but I’m not going to sit and watch.” I may not care for her, but I don’t like doing nothing.

“Worried I’ll poison you?” she playfully asks, once again throwing me off.

“No, I’m worried you’ll spit on my food.”

“You’re more worried about my spit than poison?” She glances up at the same time I look down at her. “Seems like you need to get your priorities in check.”

A thrill rushes through my veins, and depraved images run through my head.

Jesus Christ, get yourself under control.

“Trust me, they are.” I focus on my task while she adds oil to a pan.

She softly chuckles. “If you say so.”

We work in silence and thank God, because my mind is rioting with colours and images of the blonde not too far from me.

I force the thoughts away and hand her the vegetables.

“So, where did you learn how to manoeuvre the knife like that?” I ask to push the awkward tension filling the tiny space.

“Don’t judge me.” She shoots me a warning look.

“Oh, never,” I sarcastically say, but tone it down at the roll in her eyes. “I’m not. I promise.”

She tentatively looks at me. “I saw a movie and thought it was cool. So I taught myself. I don’t want to hear how unimpressive that is. Let me live in ignorant bliss.”

I’d tell her that I was more impressed than concerned for my life because who the hell knows how to do that? I surely don’t. But I hold back and let her believe I’m underwhelmed by her hidden talent.

We’re being too nice to each other. She knows it, I know it, and it’s getting weird.