Only With You (Knights #2)

30

LANDON

It’s been five minutes and she hasn’t looked at me again.

I fix my stare back on Leah, but I can’t focus on a single thing she’s saying, because my line of sight strays back to Julianna.

“Landon!” Leah slaps my arm and my attention falls back on her. “You didn’t hear a thing I said, did you?”

“I did. I’ll email you the details, you’ll draw the sketches, and send them over for me to approve,” I distractedly reply, my attention once again shifting to the stunning blonde dressed like an angel.

At the time, I didn’t understand why Gabby and Polly were so adamant that I dress like an angel. I knew they were up to something, but I didn’t have it in me to care or ask questions because the costume is basic and as simple as it’ll get.

I’m dressed in all black and I’m wearing wings—not by choice—that Gabby bought. If I didn’t wear them, I’d feel like a dick, so I have them on.

Julianna’s also dressed like one, but she’s wearing all white and she looks…there are not enough words in the dictionary to describe how divine she looks.

For having a good memory, I can’t remember when it all started. The urge, the craving, the desperation for Julianna. It’s baffling how deep I feel it. It’s like she’s injected herself into my bloodstream and I can’t stop feeling this neverending high.

The thought sends a chill up my spine.

“Okay, now I understand.” Leah’s voice directs my focus to her.

“Understand what?”

“The tall, hot blonde dressed like an angel.” Leah’s eyes flash in Julianna’s direction and trail down the length of her body. “God, is she real? She looks like a model. She’s gorgeous and—” She abruptly stops and does a double take on her again. “Wait, she’s the reason you were desperate for the mug.”

It’s not a question but a statement, and the realisation pulls a cheeky smile on her face.

“I wasn’t that desperate.”

After leaving the store empty-handed, I reached out to Leah, who I met through her twin brother, Eli, who’s on the football team. Leah’s a student at NCU, and on the side, she sells mugs and anything she can make out of clay.

She gives me a disbelieving look. “You texted me twelve times until I finally answered. That’s pretty desperate to me.”

“Only because you weren’t responding.”

“I was in class. It’s not my fault you waited until the last minute to reach out. Next time, give me a heads-up. At least a month in advance.”

My gaze once again strays to Julianna. She’s talking to Malik and the other guys. I’m sure they’re connecting the dots because they look at her costume, and then at mine. They smirk and carry on talking to the girls, but not once does Julianna look at me.

“Well, what do you think I’m doing now?”

“So, it’s serious then? You and blondie?”

“Don’t think too much into it. The mug was an apology.”

I should listen to myself, because I’ve thought more about it than I care to admit. I can’t begin to explain the odd desire I have to be around her, to touch her, to pull those soft, shy smiles from her.

“You’re right. There’s nothing to think about.” She tips her head, and when I look, something heavy lies on my chest and the bitter taste returns.

Finnick and his football friends surround Julianna and everyone else, but I can only focus on his arms as they snake around her. He hugs her, and when they pull apart, he still keeps an arm around her waist.

I drag my tongue along the top of my teeth and try to communicate with myself that I need to look away. But I do a pathetic job. My eyes stay glued on her, and when she flashes him one of those smiles, it feels like I’ve been submerged in quicksand.

There’s an intense pressure in my chest and it…hurts.

When I finally rip my gaze away and meet Leah’s, she stares at me like she’s trying to figure out something.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re stupid. Email me the details. I’m going to go find Nikki.”

I understand what she’s saying, but everything I feel is fueled by lust. That’s all.

Brushing my fingers along my chain, I tuck it into my shirt and tell myself that punching Finnick will do nothing but get me kicked out.

I make my way over as I tell myself to stand next to Jagger, because there’s no reason to act upon my impulses. And while I don’t act upon them, I don’t go to stand next to him. Instead, I plant myself between the two, shoving his arm away.

Jagger lifts a brow, probably wondering what the hell that was about, but I don’t keep my eyes long on him. I train them down to my angel, who seems intent on ignoring me.

“Hey,” Finnick greets, not sounding bothered. “Did you two plan it out, too? I was just about to tell Saint to enter the couples costume with Daisy, because?—”

“I didn’t plan anything with”—Daisy’s lip curls up in disgust—“him.”

I would’ve thought they had, because Saint is dressed like the Mad Hatter and Daisy like the Queen of Hearts. There’s a lot of resemblance with their costumes; you’d think they would’ve coordinated.

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing. We look good, Dais.” Saint softly smiles at her, staring at her in a longing way.

I’d remind him he has a girlfriend, but I’m honestly not sure what Breanna and Saint even are anymore. I thought she was into him, but I think she’s just using him, and well, he’s doing the same.

“Don’t call me that,” she bitterly spits out.

“Why can’t we?—”

“You should really shut up. It does wonders. I promise,” Daisy suggests boredly.

A sickeningly sweet smile stretches wide across Saint’s face. “Is that so? Because that’s not how I remember it.”

Malik awkwardly laughs, but it does nothing to cut the tension. “Does anyone want something to drink?”

She dryly laughs. “So you remember what a piece of shit you are?”

Cara finally steps in. “All right, let’s have a good time, okay?”

“Oh, I am!” Daisy mirrors Saint’s smile. “I’m having the best time.”

“Me, too,” Saint quips, raising his cup in salute to her. “The best time.”

“I’ll take that drink, Malik.” Daisy flashes Saint a fuck you smile before she leaves with him to the bar.

Jayden and Cara follow behind them. She looks annoyed at whatever he says to her but that doesn’t deter the smile on Jayden’s face.

“Shit…I didn’t know…sorry, Saint.” Finnick rubs the back of his neck.

He shrugs nonchalantly, looking oddly happy for what just happened. “It’s cool. That went better than I expected.”

Jagger barks out a laugh. “Better than expected? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means just that,” Saint replies, eyeing the bar. “I’m getting a drink. Who’s coming?”

I’m sure everyone is confused, but no one questions it. They all agree to go except for Julianna and Finnick. They stand in their spot, glancing at Eloise and Micah Vega.

Eloise is Julianna’s best friend and Micah Vega is the tight end for the NCU football team. They look like they’re in a heated argument, but I don’t care enough to listen.

I direct my attention to the angel who’s adamant on ignoring my existence. “I need to talk to you.”

“About?” she asks, her tone detached as she glances at her nails.

“I think I’m going to go get a drink.” Finnick throws his thumb over his shoulder. “Those two seem like they need to sort some things out. And I guess you two have things to sort out as well.”

“We do.”

“We don’t.”

We both speak at the same time, but when I lock eyes with Finnick, I know I don’t need to communicate what I want.

“I’ll be back, all right?” He squeezes Julianna’s shoulder, smiling down at her.

She narrows her eyes at him and I do too, because touching her was unnecessary, but he did it to be an arse. He says nothing, but walks away with a smirk on his face.

I stand in front of her and clench my hand at my side, doing everything humanly possible that I can to keep my eyes on her face and not below. But it seems like Gabby and Polly are rooting for my downfall because what the fuck? How am I supposed to manage a conversation and not stare at her breasts or think about how she came when I simply played with them?

“Julianna.”

“What?”

I know I’m a dick, but I haven’t recently done anything to warrant her cold shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

She frowns, pursing her lips, and looks away. “Nothing.”

I blow out an aggravated breath and hook my finger underneath her chin, angling her head back to look up at me. “What’s wrong? I can’t understand if you don’t talk to me.”

Her gaze flickers to my lips before she realises what she’s doing and pulls away, taking a step back. “Nothing.”

I take a step forward. “I know you’re mad, but I don’t know why.”

It’s sick, but I thrive on her attitude, but only when I know what I did.

“It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter just like whatever this”—she points at her chest than at mine—“ was . It’s not going to work out.”

“Why not?” I take a step closer, and maybe I’m pushing my luck, but I reach my hand out, letting my knuckle graze her arm.

“You can’t be serious?” She’s fuming and that should stop me from smirking, but I can’t help it. Despite the anger that emanates from her, she must not be that mad if she’s letting me touch her.

“I am. I can’t understand you if you don’t communicate with me. Instead, you’re sulking like a child and I don’t know what I did. At least tell me what I did and then I’ll consider whether I need to fix it or not.”

Anger brims in her eyes. “I don’t share. I told you that, but I don’t want you to stop doing what you’re doing for me.”

It all makes sense now.

“The girl you saw me talking to is Leah. She’s the one who made your mug. I was thanking her for it,” I explain, but I don’t go into detail, because she’ll know about the other one.

She stares at me a little perplexed, but then her expression turns stern. “Right, that’s why she was touching you.”

“Did you see her slapping my arm?”

“What?”

“Leah’s a touch and slap kind of person when she laughs and wants your attention. But shall we discuss how Finnick was all over you, touching you?” I grind my molars.

“It’s not like that,” she quickly supplies.

“Well, it wasn’t like that either.”

We stare at each other for a beat too long. The anger, the bitterness, and the tension pulse in the air, wrapping around us like a live wire.

“Did you read it?’”

She nods.

I lift a brow. “And?”

“And…yes.” She throws her wavy hair over her shoulder like she’s nervous. “I want that, but?—”

“This is whatever you want it to entail. You set the boundaries.” I level my gaze with hers, hoping she understands and feels how serious I am. “I need you to communicate with me what you want. What you need.” I step closer until she’s forcing her head back more to look at me, while I drag the pads of my fingers along her arm. “Whatever it is, whatever you want, whatever you like, you got it, okay? And if something bothers you, makes you uncomfortable, or doesn’t sit right with you,”—I grip her chin, lowering my head and thank God she’s wearing heels—“you tell me. You talk to me. This can’t work if you don’t do that. Do you understand?”

She inhales sharply. “Yeah, I understand, but what about you?”

“What about me?” My body burns when her nails graze my arm.

“Any hard limits? Boundaries?”

I don’t think about it because I know.

“Anyone touching you.” I pause as another thought comes to mind. “You wearing other guys’ clothes. Just don’t. At least, not whilst we’re doing this.”

That pulls a smug smile on her face. “Careful there, you sound a little jealous and possessive. You’ll make me believe you like me.”

“Well, I don’t hate you.” I don’t clarify what I mean, because I haven’t clarified it to myself yet.

Her lips pop open and then close.

I drop my hand from her chin and grab her waist. “Did I make myself clear or do I need to explain what I want?”

“No, I understand.”

“Okay,” I huskily reply and lick my lips. She watches the movement and before she asks because I know she will, I say, “The Aquaphor is in my pocket.” And pat my right pocket.

Her eyes train down but because it’s kind of dark in here, she can’t see it, so I grab her hand and press her palm to it.

“I always carry it with me. No more chapped lips.”

She chuckles, lifting her gaze, but keeping her hand in place. “Good…because you know how I feel about chapped lips.”

“I do. So don’t worry, they’ll be soft only for you.”