Only With You (Knights #2)

32

JULIANNA

El: You have a lot of explaining to do!!!

Me: You have no right! Why didn’t you tell me you dated THE Micah Vega??!!!?

El: Let’s never speak of him again.

Me: Then you don’t get to ask me questions about Landon.

El: Fine, but this calls for alcohol, alcohol, and lots of food!

I grin at the way she added alcohol twice.

Me: Deal. I gotta go. Love you!

El: Have fun! Love you back!!!!

“You know, you’re doing your costume a disservice,” Landon says as he parks in the employee lot of the Hall of Arts Museum.

I push the button to release my seat belt and smile up at him. “How so?”

He pauses for a moment, eyeing my lips before they lift. “Breaking and entering. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared?”

“I’m not scared, but I’m not trying to get arrested.”

I chuckle under the severity of his tone. “Good thing we’re not breaking in.” I replace my phone with the keys in my purse. “Just entering.”

“You work here.” He glances between the building and me.

“Yeah, so I promise you won’t land in jail or anything. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your position on the team. But if you don’t…”

The rest of my words die in the back of my throat and I can’t help the giddy feeling in my stomach when he removes his seat belt and opens his door. I go to open mine, but he stops me.

“Wait,” he says, before he steps out and opens my door. My giddiness surges as he extends his hand out for me to take.

I shouldn’t be surprised by the rush of emotions whirling in my stomach. Since he came to my defense and he held me against him, I’ve not been able to think properly.

I don’t know what we’re doing and I don’t think he does either. Although, this is all new and feels amazing, I know I shouldn’t get comfortable because whatever we’re doing isn’t going to last.

The thought makes my stomach sink, but I shove it away and take his hand.

“You really don’t have to do this.” I sheepishly smile, and again, his eyes drop down to my lips.

“It’s the bare minimum.”

He shuts my door for me, and I expect him to let go of my hand, but he doesn’t and I’m thankful for it.

But now that we’re not in the safety of his car, the nerves slither their way inside of me. There’s a lamppost, but it only gives enough light for the path that leads to the museum. If I look to the sides, I can barely make anything out due to how dark it is.

“I’m here.”

Landon’s voice hauls my attention to him. “Hmm?”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’m here,” he reassures, squeezing my palm.

The softness in his voice would almost be soothing if I wasn’t internally cringing at how wet my palms are, because I’m sure he can feel it. I’ve no doubt he knows I’m afraid of the dark.

“You can laugh,” I pathetically say, slipping my hand from his grasp.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m an adult who’s scared of the dark.”

From my periphery, I see him shrug. “Making fun of something you can’t control would be a shit thing to do. I like to be a dick here and there, but this isn’t how I want to go about it.”

The playful tone in his voice makes my trepidation dissolve. It’s now long forgotten, like it was never there and a sense of calmness washes over me.

“Here and there? That’s more like an all-day, every day kind of thing,” I argue playfully.

Landon rolls his eyes, but his lips stay curved upward. The smile is small, but it remains.

“So, how much begging did Gabby and Polly have to do to get you to wear that?”

I drop my gaze to my costume. “Some, but they were also persuasive.”

When I saw what Landon was wearing, I knew they conspired for us to match.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What is it?” He goads, and usually, he doesn’t, but the curiosity in his voice gets me to concede.

“You look really good.” My cheeks burn at my admittance.

It took everything in me not to stare when I was trying to ignore him earlier. I don’t know if it’s the black button-down that molds to his arms, chest, and torso, but God, does it do a wonderful job at accentuating everything. I don’t have to touch him to know he’s hard and all muscle.

And don’t get me started on his hair and beard, and how his pants just…fuck.

I expect an arrogant smirk or something witty, but what comes out of his mouth almost makes me stop in my tracks.

“I was just thinking about how pretty you are.” Not look but are . My stomach dips the way it would on a rollercoaster and something warm ignites from the tips of my fingers and sets off throughout my body like fireworks. “I’m glad they persuaded us. We look good together.”

I exhale a breath, but it leaves shakily. I’m spasming out and trying to find any hint of a joke or humor in his voice, but I don’t find anything but genuine sincerity.

“Is it because of my boobs? They do look pretty great.”

I shouldn’t have said that, but I don’t know how to act. Not when he’s so close, I can feel his body heat, or how the scent of his cologne makes me delirious. Especially the way he worded that, and how it easily slipped from his mouth.

“That’s a plus.” I hear the smirk in his voice, and it somewhat steadies my heavy beating heart. “So…what did Brook want?”

“Brook?” I stare up at him confused.

“The guy you went out on a date with.”

I smile. “You mean River?”

“Same thing.” he mutters.

I fight the urge not to laugh and call out what sounds like jealousy. “It’s not the same thing. Those are two different names. And aren’t you supposed to have a great memory?”

“River is a big stream of water. Brook is smaller than a river.”

Turning to look up at him, I find his blank expression and bust out into laughter. “You’re so petty.” I would’ve never thought of that. Who thinks of stuff like this? Landon Taylor, that’s who. “He just complimented my costume.”

Displeasure mars his face. “Mmm, I’m sure he did.”

I cough to mask my laugh. “Jealous?”

He sneers. “Of Brook? Nah.”

“If you say so.” I say as we approach the building. I quickly unlock the door and punch in the code before the alarm sets off.

I tense momentarily at how dark it is, and before I can give myself a mental pep talk, Landon takes my sweaty hand in his and turns the flashlight on his phone.

“The light switch isn’t too far.” I guide him to where it’s located and he easily follows me.

“Do you ever have to open or close alone?” he asks.

“Not usually.”

“Which days do you work?”

“My schedule just switched, so it’ll be Tuesdays, Thursdays, and sometimes on Sundays. I play the piano here, so occasionally, if there’s a gala or the students at NCU are presenting their projects, I come to play. I’m also part of this program where I teach kids to play different instruments at the community center. It’s amazing and the kids have so much fun. It’s—” I stop talking.

“It’s what?”

“It’s nothing. I swear, I’ll ramble forever about it.” We stop in front of the light switch and I flick them on, but not all so they don’t illuminate the entire building.

He stands in front of me, still holding my hand. “You’re talking, not rambling. Talk to me.”

I tuck my hair behind my ear. “It’s my favorite part of the week. If I could, I’d make it an everyday sort of thing.”

“You know there’s this thing called a music teacher.”

The tease in his voice loosens the tight knot in my stomach. “I know, but I’m going to medical school.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “What do you think?”

I withdraw my hand from his and wave it around the museum, the sound of my voice softly echoing, and my heels click as I take a few steps away from him.

He looks thoughtful, like he wants to say something, but instead, his eyes roam over the art before they land back on me. “Breathtaking.”

“And this isn’t even all of it. Do you want me to show you where I play?”

Landon slips his hand in the pocket, pulls out a black case, and takes out his earbuds. “Sure.”

I hesitate for a moment and wonder if this will be too boring for him. He doesn’t look annoyed about leaving the club, but maybe he wanted to do something else. I didn’t think about asking him. I was too caught up in my own head.

“If this gets too boring or if you want to leave, we can. I’m sorry I never asked what you wanted to do. Or if you don’t want to be with me, that’s also okay, too. I promise you won’t hurt my feelings.”

It might hurt a little, but he’s not obligated to be with me.

“Is this where you want to be?”

“Honestly, yeah.”

“Then this is where I want to be.” The soft but gravelly tone of his voice momentarily steals the oxygen in the room, making it hard to breathe.

I didn’t drink, but I swear I feel a rhapsodic buzz. It warms my body and spreads tingles…so many tingles all over.

I don’t know what to say or how to act, so I tip my head in the direction of where I play. He walks beside me in silence, eyes wandering over the art until they settle on the black, sleek grand piano.

“This is where the magic happens.” I wave my hand over the piano for dramatic flair.

He softly chuckles. “Are you going to show me some of your magic?”

“You want me to play something for you?” I can’t contain my excitement, and don’t wait for him to say yes before I’m sitting down on the bench. I don’t even think about it before I pat the spot next to me.

He dubiously stares at it and I realize he’s asking if I’m sure because it’s not a long bench. It’s meant for one person to sit in, and considering we’re not the smallest people, it’ll be a tight fit.

“We’ll make it work.” I pat the bench again. “Sit, or are you afraid I’ll bite you?”

A wicked gleam shines in his eyes as he sits next to me. I can only imagine what he’s thinking because I’m thinking it, too.

We’re so close to each other, the side of my body is firmly pressed against his. Nothing, not even a gust of wind, could pass through us.

“How long have you been playing?” he asks, shifting the conversation, and I’m thankful for it because I’m thinking of a lot of unholy things.

“Does this mean we’re asking each other questions again?”

Maybe I’m pushing it, but I don’t want a repeat of what happened a few weeks ago. I’m certain we’re past that, but it’s hard reading him. Sometimes, I don’t know if I’m overstepping, because despite how innocent my questions are, it feels like I am.

“Yeah, we can. As long as you’re honest with me, I’ll be honest with you.”

There’s nothing I have to hide, so I nod. “Okay.” I raise my hands, pretending they’re a clapperboard. “Asking question, take two.” I clap my hands together.

He knocks his knee against mine, and when I glance up at him, he’s bearing the biggest smile known to date, getting his dimples to make a special appearance. Granted, it’s really not that big, but I’ve never seen his lips stretch this wide.

“I’ve been playing since I was four,” I answer.

He stares, impressed. “Four?”

“Yeah, my parents are big overachievers. My dad’s a neurosurgeon and my mom’s a celebrity stylist, so they have a lot of…expectations,” I explain as I fix my fingers on the keys and consider what song I want to play. “So piano lessons, violin lessons, modeling lessons, French lessons…all kinds of lessons. I know it’s a lot, but I had a lot of time on my hands and?—”

“You were a kid. Of course you had time on your hands. What else were you supposed to do?” There’s no judgment in his voice, but slight confusion.

“I swear I’m not trying to make it sound like it’s a bad thing. I really did enjoy some of those.” I look away, hating that I sound like I’m complaining. “I know that makes me sound?—”

He interjects, “It doesn’t. You’re just speaking your mind. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“It is when I should be grateful that I was able to do all of that because of my parents. I have everything that I do because of them. The least I could do is give them nothing but the best.”

I feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look as I shake away the guilt. “What song do you want me to play for you?”

There’s a tense moment of silence before he replies, “Surprise me.”

A song instantly comes to mind. “Your Hands Are Cold” by Dario Marianelli. Ever since the girls and I watched Pride and Prejudice for Frimance, the soundtrack is all I’ve been able to think about.

Now that my record player works thanks to Landon, I’ve ordered the vinyl and will be playing it on repeat once it arrives.

“Will you get annoyed if I ask you what colors you see?”

I really didn’t want to be that person, but I’ve never met anyone with chromesthesia, and the likely chance of it happening again is slim to none. There are so many things I want to ask, but I don’t want to bombard him with questions about it.

“I told you I’d be honest, right?” The arrogance in his voice never fails to surprise me. “But I should tell you that when you play the keys individually, I’ll see a specific colour, but when you play a song, I’ll see something completely different. I know it sounds confusing, but that’s just how it works.”

“I get it, but I don’t.” I chuckle, as does he. “Have you always been able to hear color?”

He blows out a heavy breath. “Always.”

Landon doesn’t look at me this time when I look at him. He stares down at the keys, almost like he’s lost in thought.

“You don’t have to answer anything if you don’t want to.” I smile at him, hoping he knows I won’t be upset if he doesn’t.

He shakes his head. “I don’t mind if it’s only with you .”

“Okay,” I reply, almost breathless, and swallow the weird emotions. “How about you tell me what colors you hear when I play the song? I should also mention that I don’t have this song completely memorized. So, it might sound a bit off.”

I have the sheet music, but it’s on my phone and I left that in his car, along with my wings and purse.

“I might be able to help you.”

I cock a brow. “Might? You play?”

“Something like that,” Landon replies nonchalantly.

“You really are a Disney princess,” I tease, gently nudging his side.

“Just play the song.”

“Wait, but how will you know what I’m playing? I don’t think you’ll know it.”

Landon doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d sit down and watch Pride and Prejudice .

He lifts a shoulder, then drops it. “I guess play and find out.”

I don’t let myself think too much into it when I press the G key.

“The key alone is a coral color and it looks like a swirl. Though not every sound looks the same. Some sounds look like static, while others look like swirls.”

“Wait, really?” I ask incredulously and when he nods, I can’t help but stare in awe. “I know it’s frustrating and overwhelming for you, but what wouldn’t I do to see it once. I bet it’s really pretty.”

“That it is.”

I smile and carry on, pressing E-flat major. “Deep lilac.”

G. “Coral.”

C. “Vermilion.”

I continue to press the single keys, but when the song progresses, the colors change like he said they would. I try to envision what he sees, while I try to keep up with the colors he’s calling out. They’re also extremely specific, so I’m doing my best to imagine them all.

Thankfully, it seems to be different shades of pinks with a few hues of red, so it’s not that hard to imagine. But it’s hard to focus, because the deep tenor of his voice keeps distracting me, and every so often, I feel the heat of his eyes on me.

When I reach my favorite part of the song, where it crescendos, I still. My fingers still above the keys, but the music never stops, because Landon runs his fingers over the keys in legato.

I stare, dumbfounded but amazed, at how fluidly and mesmerizing he plays. He executes each key, never faltering or missing a note. I’m genuinely in awe, watching him play with elegant precision.

“H-How?” I can’t take my eyes away from his fingers as they move gracefully. I’ve seen a lot of beautiful things, but this is different. There’s something enchanting about watching him play. Kind of like Haptic.

“Remember I told you I have the ability to remember everything? I’ve heard you play this song.”

Right, of course. I just didn’t realize that meant he’s also gifted.

Wow. Wow.

Landon pauses, his leg rubbing mine. “Play with me.”

“Maybe you should just play. I’ll just?—”

“No, I want you to play with me. You lead, I’ll follow,” he encourages, and before I can tell him how badly I’ll mess it up, he circles his arm around my back and pushes me up to stand. “Come here.” He ushers me between his spread thighs and hauls me back to sit on his firm lap.

“Is this okay?” The deep rasp of his voice fuels a flame at the base of my spine. Then I feel his cool breath fan my bare, hot shoulder, and I shudder, and the flames spread.

I wet my dry lips. “Yeah, this is okay.”

“Come on, play with me,” Landon repeats and grabs my wrists, placing my fingers on the keys. “You were doing so well.”

The praise oddly feels like a shock, the good kind, and I snap out of it. We continue playing as if we never stopped and true to his word, I led and he followed.

As we play, every so often, my back grazes his chest, his arms brush mine, and his breath fans my shoulders in a way it feels like a kiss.

I can’t think of much other than how nothing has ever felt more intimate, more intense, more arousing. I know I should end it here because we’re nearing the end of the song, but I don’t.

When I feel his lips on my shoulder and his beard scratch my skin, I softly sigh.

My heart accelerates as he plays like his teeth aren’t occasionally nipping me.

I want more and I need more, but before I can ask for it, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He ignores it, but when it goes off again, he stops.

Landon clears his throat. “I should take this.”

“Right, yeah,” I get up, adding space between us, because my mind is going manic, and I’m having a hard time breathing.

He answers and groans, scrubbing a palm over his face. “Are you kidding me? No, Jayden, I don’t want tacos right now.” He pulls his phone away from his ear. “Everyone is going back to the house. They’re probably drunk as shit, but they want to know if you want to go over and eat tacos.”

I consider it, but I don’t miss the wrinkle in his nose when he says drunk. He doesn’t just dislike alcohol, but he has a disdain for it and I’m sure they’ll be loud, and that’s not something he probably wants to deal with.

“Tell them I’m good, but thanks for the invite.”

Landon relays my message then hangs up. “Want to keep playing?” I nod and we take a seat and he looks at me. “What do you want to play now?”

“Ever heard of ‘To Build a Home’?” I press the first key and I’m not surprised when he follows immediately, without missing a beat.