Only With You (Knights #2)

19

LANDON

I hit submit and wait for my video to upload on YouTube.

As it does, my mind strays to the blonde girl who has recently decided to occupy a small part of my brain. It’s just a slight portion of it, but still, her presence has taken residence and has refused to leave. Of course this would happen, because even in my own head, Julianna does whatever she wants.

The one place that’s supposed to be mine has now been tainted by the person who’s supposed to mean nothing to me. Now she’s in my thoughts, occupying space in my brain she has no business residing in, and it’s fucking with me.

Glancing back up at the screen, I smother my chuckle, scrubbing my palm over my stubble.

The universe has me fucked up.

The one girl I’ve despised wholeheartedly, and who mutually feels the same for me, is in love with me. No, not me , but Haptic, the online persona I created on YouTube seven years ago.

A knock on my bedroom door ceases my thoughts.

The distraction is nice, but when I hear the lively voice on the other side, I’m not sure what’s worse. My defiant thoughts on a particular blonde or the aggravating bloke on the other side of my door.

Begrudgingly, I choose the latter and shift my laptop so the screen is facing away from the door.

No one, including my best friends, knows about my YouTube account. It’s not that I don’t trust them, but this is something that feels too intimate to share with anyone else.

Pulling the door ajar, I stare at my animated roommate.

“Landon.” He vibrantly smiles, showing off his perfect, straight, white teeth. “My best friend.”

“I already told Jagger no.”

They’re throwing a party tonight, and while I wanted to have nothing but peace and quiet, that’s not going to happen. But I’m not going to rain on their parade, which is why I asked Polly and Gabby if I could stay at their apartment. They’re coming to the party, and from what I understand, so is their roommate.

That’s great for me, because there’s only so much of her I can put up with. And I swear if I keep thinking about her, I’m going to lose it.

“I’m not here to get you to stay. Although, I really think you should, but that’s beside the point. I actually have something for you.” He digs in his front pocket and pulls out a small folded piece of paper.

He holds it up, but I don’t take it.

“What’s that?”

“Take it and find out.”

I narrow my eyes, inspecting the paper, but it’s so small and folded that I can’t see anything. “Not until you tell me what it is.”

Saint’s smile lifts higher and something playful glistens in his eyes. “Oh, come on, just take it. You know you want to.”

“I really don’t.” I go to shut my door, but he shoves his foot in right before I get to. “Saint, I really don’t have the energy, nor the desire to deal with you right now.”

“Come on, take it,” he whines and pushes his hand toward me. “I had to bribe Bre to give it to me. Come on, take it.”

That piques my interest. “What do you mean you had to bribe her? Why?”

“Because this may or may not be a particular person’s private Instagram account.”

How underwhelming and a waste of time.

“I don’t use Instagram.” I didn’t delete the account, just the app off my phone.

He groans, throwing his head back. “God, you’re no fun. Can you just take the paper? I swear you won’t regret it.”

My gaze veers to my laptop and back to him. “If I take it, will you leave?”

“Yes.”

As I take the paper from his palm, he removes his foot, but he doesn’t walk away. He stares at me expectantly and I’m tempted to shut the door in his face, but I refrain from doing so.

Reid said that I need to be more patient. I’m not sure why he would suggest such a thing when I clearly stated how precious my time is to me. I’m not going to give it to anyone who doesn’t deserve it. He said he understands why I want to protect my peace, but in doing so, I’m pushing people away.

That’s the whole point. I figured someone with a Ph.D. would understand that, but like I’ve said before, a degree can’t give you common sense.

He left me a task and that’s to give someone a chance to speak, even if I don’t like it. I wasn’t going to, but he said he’d want to hear about it.

“What now? I thought you’d leave.”

“I need a favor.”

I breathe in deeply. “Oh fuck off.”

“But not now, though.” He gives me a cheeky grin like that’s supposed to make it better. “I figured you wouldn’t help me out unless I gave you something in return.” His gaze drops to the paper in my hand. “So, we’re even now.”

I attempt to give it back, but he takes a step backward like the childish fuck he is. “This isn’t even. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t?—”

“It’s Julianna’s private Instagram account. Goddamn it, Landon, you really just know how to kill the vibe. Why couldn’t you just go along with this?”

I’d reply that I don’t care for his games or the suspense, but I’m still stuck on what he first said. Julianna has a private account?

“Is something not clicking in that brain of yours? I said I don’t get on Instagram. I don’t even follow her. Why would I want her private account?”

“I may or may not have seen you checking her out when we saw her in the Student Union.” he gives me a look as if he were saying deny it .

So what if I was, sue me. “Okay, and?”

“Now, you can check her out in private…and I may have already sent her a follow request for you.”

Don’t punch him. Don’t punch him. Don’t punch him.

I slam the door in his face.

“Don’t forget you owe me! And you’re welcome!” he shouts from the other side of the door.

This is what I get for being patient. Never again.

As I take a seat on my chair, temptation whispers in my ear. I don’t know why I’m contemplating looking at the paper. I shouldn’t be curious, but…

I unfold the paper and my cheek twitches at her Instagram name: toasted.marshmallows .

Of course she’d pick that name. After being around her for almost three weeks, I’ve noticed she has an obsession for those miniature marshmallows. She’s always eating them.

I throw the piece of paper in the top drawer and stop my curiosity from running wild. I’m not going to redownload the app just to see her account. She’d have to follow me first and I’m sure that’s not going to happen. Plus, I don’t care about her, so her having this means shit to me.

It’s what I keep telling myself, but it seems like my mind has gone against me, because I’m doing the one thing I said I’d never do.

I download the app, log in, and go to her account. Sure enough, it’s private and she’s not followed me back. Figures.

I go to delete the app, but my thumb suspends over the screen. Instead of doing what I know I should, I do the opposite and close out of it.

There’s no reason why I should keep it, but desire has roused a part of my brain that I can’t shut down. I shouldn’t, but I’m intrigued to see what she posts.

Am I fucking myself over? Yeah. But do I care? No.

Something is severely wrong with me because I’ve checked eight—not including when I checked in my room—times now to see if she followed me back and she hasn’t.

I don’t like this, because my mind likes to spiral and hyperfixate on things that mess with my head. Fuck helping Saint. I’m deleting the account when I get home.

I shove my phone in my pocket when the front door to her apartment opens.

“Sorry. You weren’t waiting long, were you?” she asks, hooking a gold hoop on her earlobe.

Snowy white and electric sapphire swirl in my head.

I stiffly shake my head and step inside. She hardly acknowledges me before she stands in front of a long mirror leaning against the wall in the living room.

She says something else, but I can’t focus on what’s coming out of her mouth, because I’m stuck staring at her figure and what she’s wearing.

A cream-coloured, sleeveless, turtle neck, knit-type of dress moulds to her body, and it’s short with a small slit on the side. Because of the length, it gives a view of her legs that look…tanned. I hadn’t noticed at first, but now looking at her, I realise she got a tan. And her blonde hair that’s typically straight cascades past her shoulders and back in soft waves.

Saying Julianna looks nice would be an understatement. She looks anything but nice . She’s always put together. Even when she’s home, she looks like she’s ready to go out. So this shouldn’t be any different, except it is. She doesn’t just look put together. She looks like she tried hard, and by the way she’s staring at herself in the mirror, it looks like she wants to impress someone.

Not sure why she would put that much effort. She’s easily an impressive person.

It’s only an observation. It doesn’t take much to realise that. I only failed to notice…well…because I’ve hated her all these years.

“You’re making a mistake.”

She spins on her slipper and pins me with a I’m not ready to deal with your bullshit look. Despite that, she still replies, “Mistake? What are you talking about?”

“The dress. It’s like you’re asking someone to spill something on it.”

Her brows cinch. Even those look different. God, she really went all out for a college party.

Not that I’m judging her. I’ve seen girls wear all kinds of things to parties, but that dress doesn’t belong there. It looks expensive.

“It’s dinner. No one is going to spill anything on this.” She sweeps her gaze over her own body, then looks at me.

“A house party is not dinner,” I correct her, taking a seat in the chair I’ve been sitting in for almost three weeks now.

“House party? What are you talking about?” Now she looks utterly confused.

Nice is too bland of a word to use on her. She looks… heavenly .

“Are you not”—and then it all clicks, and now, I feel like an idiot—“going to the party?”

I see it click in her eyes, too. “No, I’ve got a date tonight.”

Date.

“Who’s the unfortunate bastard stuck with you tonight? I’ll have to give him my condolences.”

A sickeningly sweet smile touches her lips. “I understand you have a small dick, so you have to compensate with your shitty personality and height to make up for that fact. But don’t take it out on me. It’s not my fault your dick is micro.”

I could show her my cock to shut her up, because it’s anything but micro, but I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate that. My eyes settle on her chest and I decide on what I want to say.

“And your tits must compensate for that nonexistent brain of yours, but you don’t hear me complaining.”

The smile on her face falters. It dawns on me that I hit a soft spot and I should revel in that, but instead, I feel guilty.

She only said what she said because I started it. I didn’t mean it, not this time.

“I—”

“We should get started.” She takes the seat next to mine, not looking at me. She also moves her chair, adding space between us.

“Julianna, I didn’t mean?—”

“I don’t want to hear it, okay? Can we just get this over with?” she snaps.

“Can you just listen?”

“Look.” She twists her body to look at me. Hurt flashes in her eyes, but she blinks and it’s gone. “You’re my tutor. That’s all you’re here for, so do your job. If you don’t want to. You know where the door is.”

I assume she forgot I was staying, but I don’t bring it up. I can’t take back what I said, and she’s sure as shit not going to listen to me. I could push, but like she said, I’m just her tutor.

That’s all . She doesn’t need the reminder, but it seems I do.

“Right. Let’s get started.”

“Did that all make sense?”

“Yup.”

“Are you sure? Because?—”

“It made sense.” She closes her laptop a little forcefully.

“Okay,” I firmly say.

In silence, she packs up all of her stuff, but stops when her phone buzzes on the table. When she picks it up, she walks over to the door and opens it.

“Hi—wow, you look amazing.”

That voice. I recognize that voice. River? The twat from the club? She’s going out with him? Of all the guys, him?

“Thanks,” she sheepishly says, and even though I’m not looking at her, I can hear the smile in her voice.

I shouldn’t, but I can’t help but turn to see the disgusting couple standing by the front door.

He then holds out a bouquet of white roses and says, “I saw these and thought you. I hope you like them.”

How unoriginal. White roses? For fuck’s sake, there are so many flowers, and he brings white roses?

“You didn’t have to do that, but thank you. They’re beautiful.” She takes and smells them.

“Beautiful flowers for the beautiful girl.”

I just threw up in my mouth. What kind of compliment is that? Of all the things he could have said, he says that ? And somehow that earns a giggle from her. It’s disturbingly corny, yet she giggled? Wow, the standards are in hell.

“Come inside. I’m going to put these in water and then we can leave.”

Once he’s in, he registers that I’m here and his smile grows wider. “Oh, hey, Landon. I didn’t know you were going to be here. You probably don’t remember me, but I’m?—”

“Brook,” I say.

He chuckles. “No, it’s River.”

“Hmm, I could’ve sworn it was Brook.”

Julianna shoots me a glare. Not sure what she thought she’d accomplish with that.

She walks past me and into the kitchen. As the water runs, Brook speaks up again.

“We should hurry. Reservations are at eight-thirty.”

She sets the roses in the middle of the dining table, then her gaze flits to me. “I don’t mean to be rude, but?—”

“I’ll lock up.”

“Thanks.” She slips her boots and coat on, then grabs her purse.

Brook says something, but I can’t hear it because my gaze lands on his hand on the small of her back.

As they walk out, something consumes me.

Suddenly, I have an odd desire to punch him in the throat.