Only With You (Knights #2)

43

LANDON

Sometimes, my heart feels like it’s going to give out from how fast it beats when I’m around Julianna. It’s as worrisome as it is overwhelming, because I like how it feels, I like how she makes me feel, but then I have these thoughts and I’m reminded that I don’t do this.

I don’t create unrealistic scenarios in my head, because it only brings hope and that’s a dangerous thing, despite what Reid says.

Although…sitting right across from her in this booth, watching her get excited over a stack of pancakes and syrup that she swears is the best thing I’ll ever have in my life, I can’t help but feel just a bit of hope.

It’s ridiculous and I’m doing my best not to feel it. I’m doing my best to extinguish it, because we’re not by any means anything other than what we agreed on or what she said earlier. We’re just fucking and that’s all it’s supposed to be and all it’s meant to be. That’s why I went out of my way to put some distance between us. I’m feeling too much for someone who was never supposed to mean anything to me. But the so-called distance I decided to put between us is now laughable.

The space did nothing but make me miss her, and when I was at the store, I saw something that reminded me of her. That is how I ended up leaving with a cart full of stuff and going to stores I’ve never been in, just to get the exact brand of body wash she uses and other products she likes.

Never thought I’d be spending fifty dollars on a body wash, but I did, and now it’s sitting in my shower where she set it. Along with her other stuff.

I also never thought someone like her would make life feel like there is a light at the end of a very depressing tunnel. And saying that is all too mediocre because she’s done more than that.

Julianna flicked on a light, and suddenly my life doesn’t seem dark anymore. She illuminated the darkest part of my soul, and the strange thing is that with her, it doesn’t feel like it was ever off.

I’ve been sitting in the dark for so long, I’ve just always accepted it, but then she came out of nowhere, like a strike of lightning to my blasé life, and brought it all back.

Just like that.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

She snuffs a laugh, holding a forkful of her pancakes dripping in syrup. “Is this because you saw me naked earlier?”

Leaning forward, I stretch my fingers across the tables until the pads brush against her nails. She extends her hands and lets me glide my fingers between hers.

“The way I see you has nothing to do with what you do or don’t wear. There’s nothing ordinary or extraordinary in the way that I see you, because it’s all beyond beautiful. Truthfully, a single word can’t define how I see you. Nor will it explain it because the only way is through my eyes. I’m sorry there’s not a better word in the dictionary.”

Her mouth pops open and she dampens her plump lips. A shade of pink takes over her cheeks and her chest expands.

I really wish I could show her through my eyes how I see her because only then she would understand. But if she were able to do that, then she’d know how I mentally screenshot everything she does. Things that were never meant to mean anything to me, like the most mundane and inconsequential things. It’s puzzling to be this fascinated with her. To be drawn to her being without there having to be a reason.

I don’t know how she does it, but only Julianna has managed to make putting on a jumper fascinating.

She smiles down at the stack of pancakes on her plate. “We should eat. You really don’t want the syrup to get cold.”

I nod to that, thankful she didn’t say anything because I think I’m crashing.

“This better be as good as you’re hyping it up to be.”

Since we got in the car, she hasn’t stopped talking about how good this syrup is.

“When have I led you astray?” A dark brown brow perks up. “And you better not say the raunch wasn’t good, because you know it was.”

I flatten my lips, suppressing a grin at the way she mimics me.

I grab a piece of bacon and dip it in the syrup.

Both of her brows lift as she stares at it in astonishment.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never tried this?”

“Bacon and syrup together? No, my mom would have a heart attack,” she jokes, but I don’t miss the light that dims in her eyes as she glances at the stack of pancakes on her plate. “But only because she worries about my health.”

I fight the urge to look anything but annoyed. Not at her, but her mother for making her feel like she can’t eat anything that’s not deemed healthy . This isn’t the first time she’s made comments about what she should and shouldn’t be eating.

There’s nothing I want more than to tell her how that kind of mentality isn’t healthy, but I know that isn’t the way to go about it.

“There’s nothing wrong with having this once in a while. Besides, we’re celebrating you.” I hold the piece of bacon in front of her, but she stares at it with hesitation. “Come on, Love. You know you want to.”

That pulls a diminutive curve on her lips, and I swear my heart expands. I don’t know what it is about the way her lips stretch just a bit that stirs something within me, but it just does.

She takes the piece and I grab another, dip it in the syrup, and simultaneously, we take a bite.

“That’s good.” We say at the same time.

I pick up the bowl of syrup and pour it over my pancakes. I have no idea what’s in it or how it was made, but this shit is good.

She giggles as she chews. “I’d never lead you astray.”

“I know you wouldn’t. Remember, you lead and I follow.”

Her gaze strays to my lips and stays there, and it’s when I realize I’m smiling.

“I don’t want to sound like a double standard. I hate when people, particularly men, tell me to smile because it’ll make my day better, or because it’ll make me look prettier.” She grimaces. “But I really meant what I said that other night. I really like your smile, and I hope you do it more often, but of course, only when you want to.”

“Don’t do that!”

The strike of Mum’s palm against my cheek comes abruptly. It takes me a moment to register what she did, but it isn’t until I feel something warm trickle down my chin. When I touch it and raise my palm, blood coats my fingers.

“You made me do that! I told you not to smile, Landon. You know how it makes me feel. Why would you do that to me? Can’t you see the pain that godforsaken man who calls himself your father did to me?”

Us, I want to correct her, but instead, I wipe the blood off my lip, force air into my lungs, and stiffly nod. “I’m sorry, Mum. I won’t do it again.”

I was eight the first time she hit me.

Knowing there’s hardly anyone here because it’s late and we’re sitting in a booth gives me the courage to tell her.

“You remember how I told you my mum checked out after John left? She didn’t just check out. I’m pretty certain she had a psychotic break.” I pause as the memories of her disrupt my thoughts like an unexpected tsunami. “And me being around her, looking so much like John, was a reminder of what she lost, what she wanted but couldn’t have. It pained her to see me smile because she missed him. So I stopped, and I guess I’ve never had the need to do it since then. I don’t tell you this because I want your pity.” I shove those idiotic feelings away.

“I’m telling you because, well, if I’m being honest with you, I hate it, too. I hate that I look like him and…I’m sorry, this is not about me. This is about you. I’m sorry, I?—”

She shakes her head, grabbing my free hand before I can retract it. “No, no, I don’t mind. I’m here for you, Landon.” She squeezes my hand. “Thank you for trusting me and I promise you can always confide in me.” She rubs gentle circles on the top of my hand. “I’m always here for you, okay?”

The heavy weight in my chest lifts, making it a little tolerable to breathe. “Okay.”

“I love it.”

“Hmm?”

“I know you said you hate it, but I love your smile. I’m sorry I was forcing you to do something you weren’t comfortable with. But I just want you to know that nothing is going to change how much I love seeing it and when your dimples make their grand appearance. That’s all I have to say, but I just wanted you to know.”

Heat crawls up my neck to my cheeks and my lips stretch involuntarily.

She must have a great read on me because she squeezes my hand one more time before she lets go of it and changes the subject.

“So, aren’t you curious to know what I wrote on your neck?”

I’m happy for the shift in the conversation, but not her moving her hand away.

“I have an idea, but please enlighten me.”

She smiles mischievously. “It’s honestly really cute, some of my finest work. It’s angel wings with my initials between the wings and a halo above them.”

“Of course you’d do something like that.” I cut into my pancakes and stuff them in my mouth but pause mid-chew when I notice something glimmer in her eyes. “What?”

“Let’s make a bet.”

I stifle a laugh. “You may want to rethink that.”

“Afraid you’ll lose?” she taunts. A confident gleam sets in her eyes.

“I never lose.”

“Right,” she drawls sarcastically. “So, yes or no?”

I muse over it as I cut into my pancakes, but relent. “Okay, and it better not be anything lame. Make it good and worth my time.”

She rolls her eyes vexedly, but I see the tiny crack on her lips. “If I pass my final exam, you have to get that tattooed on your neck.”

I should have seen that coming, but somehow, it still blindsided me. That’s what I get for running my mouth.

“Okay.” I drum my fingers along the table. “But you have to make a ninety-five, and I also have to get something out of this if you don’t.”

“Wait, no, you’re not going to set the rules. I’m the one who came up with the bet,” she argues, glowering at me.

I shrug, indifferent about it. “Don’t care.”

“God, you’re an ass.” She holds my stare as stabs her pancakes.

I smirk at that. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m confident you’ll pass.”

She bashfully smiles. “Yeah, thanks to you again. If it weren’t for you, I would have failed again.”

“What I said earlier, you passing wasn’t because of me. You did that on your own, and I wish you’d see it, because I do.”

Everything I said was all in the heat of the moment because she gets off on it, but I didn’t mean it. And I really hope she doesn’t believe it was because of me. I just taught her a different method of getting the answer, but she did everything. She doesn’t see it because she’s too caught up trying to make the perfect grade, but she’s smart.

“You say that, but should I remind you that I failed this class before? I’m just not?—”

“You’re so smart and I’m going to need you to believe that because I do. Failing once, twice, or more doesn’t mean anything. There are things that factor into the reason why you failed, but it doesn’t mean you’re not smart. We all have different ways of learning.”

She tucks her hair behind her ear. “You think so?”

“I know so. You’re a pain in my arse, but you’re smart.”

That draws a laugh from her, and she kicks my ankle. “I really can’t stand you.”

Setting my fork down, I grab her knees and place them between my legs, locking them before she can do it again because I know she will.

“Do you want me to remind you what I wrote on you?”

She flushes. “Shut up.”

“If you don’t pass, you have to get one of those words tattooed on your body and I get to pick which one.”

Her eyes go round and she tries to pull her legs away, but I don’t let her. “No, absolutely not.”

I know she’s refusing because she knows which one of the two I’ll pick.

I really like Landon Taylor’s property , but Landon Taylor’s cum slut might be the winner. That one I wrote just below her hip line. It’d never be visible to anyone unless she doesn’t have any panties on.

When she knows I won’t relent, she blows a harsh breath. “That’s a bit extreme and you know it. I’ll get something tattooed but not those.”

“Take it or leave it.” I hold her hardened stare.

She considers it, but when her gaze drifts out the window next to us, her eyes brighten and she slyly smirks. “I want to change my bet. If I pass and make over a ninety-five, you let me drive your car.”

Everything comes to a screeching halt, and I back up, shaking my head. “No. No one drives my car, and the last thing I need is for you to wreck it or worse, kill us both. Do you even know how to drive a stick?”

She scoffs defensively, flipping me off. “First of all, I’m a great driver, and I don’t, but I could learn. And if you’re saying that because I hit your car that one time, I’m sorry.” She pauses for a moment. “I really am sorry about hitting your car and pinning the blame on you. That day, my parents, they—you know, it doesn’t matter because there’s no excuse for what I did, but I really am sorry. I swear I was going to apologize, but then you poured that drink on me.”

“I’m sorry about that.” I rub the back of my neck, remembering that day. “You were there, and I was still pissed about it. I’m really sorry.”

She smiles, shrugging. “It’s fine. I deserved it.”

“You didn’t. I was being petty and childish…” I think of the day she hit me. “You were crying that day, weren’t you?”

“I sometimes forget you have such a great memory.” She glides the tip of the fork over the syrup, creating a figure eight on the plate. “Yeah, I was, but it’s stupid. I was being unreasonable and dramatic.”

“You’re never unreasonable or dramatic. Do you want to talk about it?” I rub my thumbs over the top of her knees.

“No, or then you’ll really hate me, because it’s stupid.”

“That won’t happen.” Because I like you way too much to ever feel that way toward you . My heart expands at the thought, but I push it out of the way. “I promise.”

“My parents were supposed to help me move in that day, but after an argument Mom and I got into, they didn’t come. I’ll spare you the details, but it’s my fault because in their defense, I was ungrateful and they weren’t wrong. I have it all thanks to them, and at the moment, I wasn’t showing it. It’s fine, though…they sent the Rover.”

She laughs, but it’s awkward and dry, but I don’t say anything because it feels like she wants to say more. So, I stay silent and listen.

“I know I’m privileged. I shouldn’t even be saying this, because I have both of my parents, who are able to provide and give it all to me. They’re the reason I’m wearing this five-thousand-dollar jacket, but sometimes, I wish I had more than just the materialistic things. Sometimes, I wish they’d tell me they were proud of me or that I’m doing enough because I never feel like I am. And I feel so stupid, because I have no clue how to be enough for them. But sometimes I worry that I’ll be too much, and I hate to be a burden to them. So I smile and look pretty, because I feel like that’s all I’m good for.” She bites her quivering lip and stares off into the distance and slumps back as if she’s trying to make herself small. “I sound so stupid. I’m sorry. I’m complaining about my parents when Gabby can’t even see hers. God, I sound so self-absorbed.”

“Please don’t apologise.” I slip out of my side of the booth, and when she sees what I’m doing, she scoots over and lets me sit next to her. I’d hug her if the booth weren’t so small, so I settle with grabbing her hand. “You don’t sound self-absorbed, you’re not ungrateful, you’re not spoiled, and you’re not stupid.”

I really hate myself for not knowing what else to say. Sure, once I wanted what she wants now, but it’s been so long, I’ve lost the ability to give a fuck about John, anything, or anyone. I also can’t bring myself to love him or anyone.

Love is fickle and precarious, and so insatiable, I don’t want to deal with it.

Brushing my thumb over her knuckles, I say what comes to mind and hope I don’t fuck anything up.

“I hate that your parents are making you feel this way, because you’re not a burden. You’re far from it. Quite frankly, if I’m being honest with you, I need more of you because I can’t stop getting enough of you. And I know it’s not the same thing, because you want that from your parents, but I see you and I see that you’re not any of those things you just said you were. You’re not just your smiles or your beauty. You’re Julianna fucking Sparks. You’re smart, capable, strong, quick-witted. You’re that and so much more. I promise and I hope you know I mean it.”

She scrunches her nose and her eyes become glassy and the corners rimmed with unshed tears.

Fuck, what did I just do? “I’m sorry, I’m not good with words and?—”

“No, no.” She blinks repeatedly, exhales a shaky breath, and finally, a genuine smile sweeps across her face. “Thank you.”

I capture this moment, feeling relieved I didn’t screw up.

“Don’t thank me. I meant every word.” I smile at her and her gaze drops to it and this time I don’t conceal it. “Deal.”

“Deal? Really?”

I seriously can’t believe that this is what I’ve succumbed to. All for her.

“Yes, really.”

She beams, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Freshman year, I’m hitting your car. Senior year, I’m driving it. Who would have thought?” She crosses her leg over the other, and when she hits my knee, she moves it, but I grab her ankle and place her leg over my knee.

“Yeah, who would have thought?”