Only With You (Knights #2)

17

JULIANNA

“I must admit, I’m impressed.”

Setting my laptop on the dining table, my gaze flicks to Landon, sitting on the chair next to me. “I told you I’m a great cook.”

“ Subpar cook, but I meant I’m impressed you know how to use more than salt and pepper. Good for you.”

I could be mad, but I’m just shocked it took him this long to say something stupid. After he asked me about the knife, we didn’t say much to each other. We cooked and ate in silence.

I’m surprised we managed to go almost thirty minutes without arguing. That’s new and extremely shocking, but I’m not complaining. It was fun while it lasted.

Setting my bag on the floor, I take a seat. “You really just have a knack for being an asshole, don’t you? The least you could do is say thank you. After all, I could’ve undercooked your chicken, but I didn’t. So you’re welcome.”

It might’ve crossed my mind, but I didn’t want to cross-contaminate.

“It’s a talent I do my best to uphold.” Humor laces his voice. “And I’m not going to thank you for doing something you should do regardless.”

“Aren’t you funny.”

“The funniest.” His reply is just as dry as my comment.

We stare at each other for a beat too long, and as I ponder over my next comeback, a strange cloud that settles over us derails me.

It comes out of nowhere and I find myself getting carried away by it. No, not it, him and that intense, consuming look in his eyes. Something hauls me deeper, dragging me to the depth of his abysmal steel gray eyes.

Then it happens again. Like earlier in the kitchen, my gaze veers to his lips.

My heart rate dangerously spikes, sending my thoughts to skitter all over the place. I try to gather them all, but I only catch one. It’s the one I don’t want to think about, the one I’m trying to pretend doesn’t exist.

It unnerves me in a way that leaves me feeling immensely flustered inside, but it’s enough to help me look away, taking the strange cloud with it.

“All right, let’s see if I’m getting my money’s worth.”

My jab doesn’t have the effect I was hoping it would have on me. For a second, it did. I felt proud, but now my mind spirals with how stupid he’s about to realize I really am. He knows I failed, but doesn’t know the extent to how badly I suck at math.

I’ve mentally prepared for the onslaught of smart-ass comments he’s about to make, the patronizing looks, but now it feels like I didn’t prepare enough. I can take all of his snarky remarks, but this is where I draw the line. I should’ve found a different tutor.

In hindsight, I shouldn’t care what he thinks, because I never do, but I can’t help but feel self-conscious.

“You know what”—pushing my chair back, I stand and gather all my stuff—“I don’t want to waste your time. You already have a lot going on with basketball and your classes. You don’t need to add tutoring to your agenda. I’ll be fine studying on my own. Sorry that I wasted your time coming here. I’ll still pay you for today, so don’t worry about?—”

He wraps his large palm around my wrist, bringing my rambling and packing to a stop.

“Sit down.” Those two words are sharp, leaving no room for me to argue.

With a firm tug, he gets me to sit down and grabs my laptop, opening it back up. He squeezes my wrist, the rough pads of his fingers digging into my skin, but not in a way it hurts or that I hate. I peek down, staring at the stark contrast between the size of our hands.

“Look at me.” And I do. “I’m already here, so use me.”

I flick to his hand again before he removes it and pushes my laptop closer to me. Feeling a bit at ease, I log into Canvas, clicking the Calculus II tab.

“What is he teaching you right now?”

The corners of my lips unintentionally quirk up. “Taylor’s formula.”

He cocks an unimpressed brow, staring at me like he knows what I’m thinking. “Something funny?”

I shake my head because I’ve decided I’m going to keep the peace. At least for today, but in true Landon fashion, he doesn’t let up.

“It’s funny how you always start something, but never finish. Must be a recurring theme for you, huh?” He goads me, but it also feels like a jab and an innuendo all in one.

I wanted to maintain the peace. And I thought he wanted that too, but I should’ve known Landon lives to stir shit up.

“ It’s funny I find both it and you to be boring, unimpressive, and hard to understand.”

He rests and interlocks his arms on the table, leaning forward. “Come here, I want to tell you something.”

I shouldn’t but…

Leaning forward, I mirror his posture. Our elbows brush against each other, but neither one of us does anything to move them.

“I’m here.” I don’t know why it leaves in a whisper. The girls are working. It’s not like they’ll overhear us.

“Boring, unimpressive, and hard to understand, yet I managed to get you to come , just like that.” The most infuriating smirk curls on his lips, causing an indent on his right cheek.

I try to think of something witty to say, but unfortunately, I have nothing. I’m left staring at his stupid dimple and trying to force the heat—that came out of nowhere—on my cheeks to cool down.

“Whatever,” I lamely quip, adding space between us.

Silence settles, but it only lasts for a second before he slices it.

“May I?” he asks, casting a glance at my laptop.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the distraction kind of helped. I’m not as anxious and I wonder if he did that on purpose because he knew.

I slide it right in front of him. “I also have a mouse if you don’t want to use the pad.”

I take the mouse out of my bag and set it next to him. Immediately, it dawns on me what a terrible suggestion that is. I do my best to suppress my smile, but I fail and it widens.

The mouse is ridiculously small compared to his hand. I’m sure he could use it, but it’d probably be uncomfortable.

He stares at me with a blank expression, but when he shifts his attention to the screen, a faint smile touches his lips. It’s so small, it hardly looks like one, but he’s always so serious and stoic, I know I’m not seeing things.

I dramatically gasp. “Did I just make Landon Taylor smile?”

And like a flick to a switch, it’s gone.

“Shut up.”

I can’t help the proud smile on my face because I never thought I’d see the day. Granted it was hardly a smile. It’s the kind you really have to take a close look at, but I know what I saw. And he didn’t correct me.

Taking that as a win, I stay silent.

Patiently, I wait, drumming my fingers against the table, but not too loud to bother him. I’d get on my phone, but that’d be rude, so I look around the apartment, smiling to myself when I land on the jar filled with dollar bills. I continue to let my gaze wander until it settles on his neck.

I take a peek at him, his eyes still glued to the screen, staring intently at it.

Glancing back down at this neck, I study the fine, intricate lines painstakingly etched on his skin. I see a skull, but the side of its head looks like it was bashed in, and what comes out of it are music notes and swirls.

They look like they connect to something on his shoulder and back, but because of his shirt, I can’t see.

He has a five o’clock shadow that does enough to cover his square jaw. I hate to admit this to myself, but it’s perfect and impeccably sharp. Licking my lips, I coast my gaze to the other features on his face.

It looks like his jaw is the only perfect part of his face because his nose at the bridge is slightly crooked. And it’s faint, but there’s a scar on his left eyebrow. I hadn’t noticed it before, but there’s just a tad bit of hair missing. They’re small imperfections that don’t define him, but they’re also kind of…hot.

Blinking the thought away, I note how the seams of his lips are red and swollen. It’s probably due to the dry weather. I only assume that because I’ve seen him lick his lips a few times since he got here.

I almost skim over the tiny mole underneath the tip of his brow, but I manage to see it before I settle on his eyes.

They’re hardened and I don’t have to directly look at them to see the shade that colors his iris. They’re steel gray on good days, and on other days, they’re charcoal. I’ve never seen eyes like his, so intense and so…jaded.

“Yes?”

I look away, snapping out of it.

“I didn’t say anything.”

He hums and slides the laptop between us. “Let’s get started.”

Over the past two hours, I’ve learned two things about Landon.

One, he’s left handed.

When he signed my tutoring contract, I hadn’t paid attention to which hand he used, not that I cared about it to begin with. But because he’s sitting right of me, anytime he had to write, his elbow would occasionally graze my arm. I asked him if he wanted to switch seats, but he said he was fine unless I had an issue with it.

I should have, but I didn’t.

Two, the girls were right. He’s extremely patient.

Right as we got started, so many questions ran through my mind and once again, I panicked but silently. I was embarrassed and held back from asking him anything. That’s until he caught on and that was all within the first five minutes of getting started.

I hadn’t realized until today how freakishly perceptive he is. He knew when I was holding back, when I hesitated, when I wanted to ask but couldn’t. He just knew.

He didn’t once make me feel like I was an idiot or a lost cause. Landon took his time to explain what I didn’t get, and when I still wouldn’t understand a problem, he would show me a different way of getting the answer.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ve learned more with him than I have with Professor Roberts. We weren’t even supposed to go over an hour, but he was set on me getting the answers. I got them even though it took a few tries.

I can’t remember the last time I felt this relieved.

And it’s all because of him.

“Did it all make sense?” he asks as I close my laptop.

“Yeah, I don’t know how you managed to do it, but it all did. Letters in equations always seem to throw me off,” I sheepishly admit.

I shift my body as he does, but we end up getting in an awkward position where my legs settle between his parted ones. Despite the weird placement, neither one of us moves.

Landon licks his lips again and I consider telling him to invest in some ChapStick, but I keep that comment to myself.

“It’s not the letters,” he replies, so sure of himself, and elaborates. “Yes, you freak out when you see the letters, but really, you just second-guess yourself. And add someone incompetent like Roberts, of course you’re going to believe it doesn’t make sense.”

He sounds so confident with his response, I almost believe him, but I’ve had other professors and they weren’t as bad as he is.

I look down at my lap. “I don’t think it’s that. I’ve never really been good at math.”

Landon hums thoughtfully, but doesn’t say anything else.

“I bet you’re dying to leave now, huh?” I stand and gather all my stuff.

“Yes,” he replies instantaneously and stands.

I stop packing all my stuff in my bag and look up at him. I hate how tall he is. I can’t have the desired effect when I tell him off. Even when I do, he stares at me with this snobbish look like he has one up on me.

“You could at least pretend you’re sad our time is over.”

His lip curls with distaste. “No.”

“And here I thought the war was finally over,” I state sarcastically .

The issues between him and me are far from over, but we spent two hours acting like civilized adults. Gabby and Polly would be proud, and I’d be proud too if I didn’t feel weird about it.

We argue so much, it’s second nature to us, so not doing so makes me feel off.

I divert my attention back to my stuff, pick up my phone, and take it off Do Not Disturb.

I can’t help the small smile on my face at the two messages from River.

River: Hey, Juls

River: I know this is a bit far out, but what are you doing Friday the 20th? If you’re available, I’d love to take you out for dinner.

Even though this makes me feel excited, it doesn’t set off anything inside of me. There are no butterflies fluttering rampant in my stomach. My heart isn’t beating erratically. I don’t feel the good kind of overwhelming nerves that a first date would bring.

Maybe I’m just thinking too much into it. It’s been a hot minute since I went on a real date. That’s probably it. Once the date approaches, I’ll probably feel all of those things. After all, it’s only the beginning of October.

“Bad news?”

“What makes you think that?”

He must have realized what he asked, because he licks his lips and shakes his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait, don’t leave,” I rapidly say right as he slips his shoes on and opens the door.

I swiftly go to my room, grab what I need from my vanity, and step back out. I don’t know if he listened to me because he has this thing where he doesn’t. To my surprise, he’s still by the entryway, his eyes tracking my movements until I’m in front of him.

He guardedly watches me, but when his gaze settles on my open palm, holding a brand-new tube of Aquaphor Lip Repair, a crease deepens between his brows. It’s still in the package, but he stares at it like he’s waiting for it to explode or something.

“It’s brand new. So stop looking at it like that.” I urge him to take it, but he doesn’t grab it. “You desperately need it.”

“Why?”

“Why else would I be giving you that? You’ve been licking your lips since you got here, and if there’s anything I hate more in the world, it’s chapped lips, so take it.”

He considers it for a moment before he takes it from my hand. I don’t fail to notice the way the tips of his fingers graze my palm down to my own fingers.

“Consider it my good deed of the year.” I smirk.

I expected a smart-ass reply, but he stuns me when the corners of his lips tug upward just a tad. He tosses the package in the air, effortlessly catching it before he opens the door.

“Good night, Julianna.”

“Good night, Landon.”

With one last glance, he walks out and shuts the door behind him.

A soft thrash ensues in my stomach, but I don’t mull over it because my mind is still reeling over the way he said that. Those three words echo in my head, repeating them over and over until I’m in my room. Even in the confines of my safe space and over the voice of my favorite YouTuber, I can still hear his voice.