Only With You (Knights #2)

22

LANDON

“So, I get to ask you anything I want?” She raises her mug, attempting to hide her coy grin.

Snowy white and electric sapphire swirl in my head.

I stare at her with bated breath, concentrating on the colours and not the overwhelming need to get the fuck out of here.

“Yes, but you only get fifteen.”

We’re still in the kitchen, standing across from each other. She’s leaning against one of the counters and I on the other. Bright yellow LED lights Gabby stuck underneath the cupboards illuminate the space around us.

She loudly scoffs and her brows draw together. “I thought we were doing twenty.”

“Now, you get ten.”

A scowl deepens on her face and her shoulders sag. “Ten? How did we go from twenty to fifteen to ten?”

“Take it or leave it,” I say with finality, my voice nonnegotiable.

But of course it isn’t going to be that easy, because Julianna has a look in her eye that I’ve come to know well. It’s the kind that says she doesn’t care what I do or don’t say.

“Twelve,” she demands, rolling her shoulders back.

“Nine.”

“Thirteen.”

“Eight.”

“Fourteen.”

“You’re pissing me off.” She’s not. Matter of fact, I feel oddly calm, considering I’m about to answer questions I didn’t want to not that long ago. “I’m going to answer three. If you go any higher, I swear I won’t answer a single question. So three or nothing.”

It takes nothing but a second to elicit a spark of vehemence in her eyes. And not a second later, her full lips curve into a deviant grin.

“Five.”

I glower at her. “Julianna.”

“Landon.” She beams.

I exhale a weary breath, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. “You’re exhausting.”

“Don’t be like that. Either way, we both know you’re smart enough to only answer what you want people to know.” Her brows lift as if she’s saying deny it .

I don’t argue, because she’s right.

“Why do you even care to know about me?”

She takes a sip of her drink. “We’re going to be together for the rest of the semester. I thought it’d be good if we got to know one another. Maybe it’ll make things a little more tolerable. Plus, I’m certain my roommates and your best friend have a little bet going on. So it’ll be good to prove them wrong.”

I quietly chuckle. “You know about that?”

My best friends are a bunch of idiots. They bet on how long they think Julianna and I will last before we call it quits. They think I don’t know, but Polly is not very discreet. I suspect she didn’t tell Julianna I was staying and she lied about her going to the party.

Once the sweet chocolate coats my tongue, I can’t stop myself from hiding how delicious this is.

“Fuck me, this is lovely,” I say under my breath and take another drink, ignoring how the steam fogs my glasses.

“I think I’m going to need to hear you say that again and louder. Actually, give me one second.”

Julianna’s off before I get a word out, but she comes back in a flash, her phone in her hand.

I cock a brow, watching her tap before she holds it close to me. “What are you doing?”

“Repeat what you just said and make sure you emphasize the poshness in your voice.” She taps the record button and does a circle motion with her palm for me to speak.

“Poshness?”

“Yes, you’re great at that. Come on, say it. Now, I’m going to have to start it over.”

I shake my head at her enthusiasm, but I can’t deny it’s cute. “No, I’m not?—-”

“Oh, come on, it’ll serve as great spank bank,” she teases, but then freezes as if she’s acknowledged what she said. Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t take it back. “Say it.”

I do a double take on her face because I’ve never seen her blush. I’m sure it’s happened before, but I’ve never been on the receiving end of anything like that coming from her. Not that I’ve ever deserved anything, but I like it so much, I want to see it again.

Grabbing her wrist, I tug the phone close to my mouth as I look her in the eyes and say, “Fuck me, you’re lovely.”

Julianna’s cheeks taint a rose colour and it deepens the longer I stare and hold her. And when I tug her wrist, she allows me to pull her closer. Our gazes lock and it feels as if time has paused, allowing us to capture this fleeting moment.

Though I don’t need time to pause, because this moment will forever be etched in my mind.

Drawing in a breath, I let go of her wrist and take another drink. “Was that good enough?”

“Yup, good,” she replies and retreats back along with her hand and sets her phone on the counter. “Anyway, the bet. They don’t think we’ll make it very far.”

“They don’t, but we’ll prove them wrong.”

“We will, won’t we?” A demure smile graces her face, but it’s shy and so unlike her.

I like it.

“Okay, you get five.” I relent and glide my fingers along my chain until the unease in my stomach fades away.

She hums thoughtfully as the electric current between us becomes ardent.

“Why don’t you share something with me and I’ll do the same,” she offers.

I didn’t anticipate that. I expected the typical questions like will I be entering the NBA draft? What position do I play? Or anything relating to basketball, but this isn’t it. It’s not even a question.

I drop my hand from my chain as the unease finally dwindles away. “This is going to count as one of your questions.”

She scoffs a laugh. “I figured, but whatever. Share something with me.”

For the first time in my life, I feel like I don’t know what to say. I mean, I know what I could say, and that could be a multitude of generic things I’ve said in my lifetime. But unlike any of those occasions, I do want to share something.

I don’t know if it’s the look in her eyes like she’s not expecting anything from me. Like she doesn’t care if I share my favourite colour or what my middle name is—which is something I’ll never share—but my point is, she stares at me with intent. Like whatever I share will suffice her need to know something about me.

This means nothing. People share things all the time. This won’t be any different.

“I have chromesthesia.”

She assesses me quizzically. I don’t expect her to know what that is, because many people don’t. It’s rare and hard for anyone who doesn’t have it to understand exactly what it even means.

“Damn it, Landon, are you serious?”

“What?” I’m taken aback by the sudden aggression, but I don’t mind it because I actually really like it.

“Don’t what me,” she mocks me. “You can’t drop that on me and expect me not to ask questions and you better believe I have a lot of them.”

I stared, astonished, understanding she knows what it is. “I didn’t think you’d know.”

“Okay, fair, because it’s rare, but I learned it in music theory. It wasn’t something we went over long, but it stuck with me and I’ve always been curious about it.” Her elated voice throws me off because I’ve not heard her sound this excited over anything, except for Haptic.

“You have four more questions, so it’s up to you what you want to ask next.” I hide my smile behind my mug when she huffs.

She taps her fingernails along the ceramic, chewing on her lips as she ponders probably through an endless list of questions.

“How does the color appear in your vision and does every sound emanate a color or only certain sounds?”

I give her a pointed look because she knows what she did. She lifts a shoulder, smiling innocently at me. That’s two questions, but I’ll let it slide.

“Colour appears like a tint in my mind’s eye, and I know this isn’t going to make sense whatsoever, but I see it as if it were four-dimensional,” I explain and she nods, absorbing my words. I can tell she’s confused, as is everyone when I describe it, but still, she follows along. “And yes, every sound emanates a colour in my mind.”

That sparks interest in her gaze. “So as I’m talking to you, you’re seeing a color?”

I nod, letting that question slide.

I don’t get to decide what I see when I hear a sound, but it’s pretty evident with Julianna.

The colour in her irises—blue and thin streaks of white—were the first thing that caught my attention when I met her. Even though we didn’t meet under great circumstances, it’s what my mind decided to hyperfixate on at the time.

It appears like an aurora borealis. Bright and blinding like her eyes, swirling and floating like mesmerising curtains. Like everything else, the colours would stop when I wouldn’t hear her voice, but recently, I don’t have to hear her to see them.

When I think about her for a mere second, my mind becomes a northern light of white and sapphire. It’s really screwing with me, because I know I’m hyperfixating on someone I shouldn’t, but my brain is wired a certain way. I can’t get it to stop.

It’s not okay, because they’re raiding my thoughts, disrupting my moments that I’ve reserved for when I want peace and quiet.

I grab my chain, brushing my fingers along it.

“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” She pulls me out of my thoughts, and the small smile that touches her lips soothes the discomfort gripping my chest.

I drop my hand and count the marshmallows that have somewhat melted. “Yeah, it can be, but I have earbuds that help so I don’t get overstimulated.”

“The black earbuds you left here a few weeks ago?”

Thank God I found them because they’re custom-made and too expensive.

“Yeah, those.” Remembering that day like it happened just a few minutes ago. Which reminds me. “So, the hot pink?—”

Her neck and face flush. “Abso-fucking-lutely not! We don’t talk about that. We don’t bring that up. We’re just going to pretend that never happened. Okay? Okay.” She takes a long drink.

“No, I don’t like pretending, and masturbation is normal.” I revel in the way she squirms in her spot.

“I know, but that’s not a conversation I’m going to have with you.” She still doesn’t look at me. “Let’s move on.”

“Mm, I don’t think so. I recall you saying I could ask questions, too. Well, I have a question.”

Julianna lifts her head, staring at me like she’s plotting my death. God, I missed those disdainful looks of hers.

“Ask your stupid question,” she grumbles.

“What gets you off?” It’s a normal question, but she looks at me like I’ve asked her something bizarre.

Her silence prolongs and for a moment, I think she’s not going to answer.

“No judgment?” It’s almost inaudible, but I manage to hear it.

It feels inexplicably warm all of a sudden. What the hell am I thinking I’m going to achieve with this question? I get nothing out of it.

“No judgement. I promise,” I earnestly reply in a thick rasp.

And I mean it, because I don’t break promises.

“I, um,” she stammers and then shakes her head. Determination flares in her eyes as she rolls her shoulders back. “Someone using me as they please, demeaning me, calling me…” She thickly swallows. “ Names . That’s what gets me off.”

I don’t breathe. I don’t blink. I don’t move. I’m a heartbeat away from sporting a hard-on.

“Names?” My voice is hoarse and my dick twitches.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what kind of names I’m talking about.”

I do. I just wanted to hear her say them.

“You fantasise about being degraded?” My grip on the mug tightens.

“I guess that’s the term for it…right?”

“Right…”

After a beat of silence, she cuts through the searing tension wrapping around us. “It’s my turn.”

“Yeah, ask.”