Only With You (Knights #2)

44

JULIANNA

“I’m so happy you’re coming,” Polly says from my bed as I give myself a once-over in the mirror to make sure everything looks good.

If someone had told me a few months ago that I would willingly choose to go to a basketball game, let alone to go support Landon of all people, I would’ve laughed in their face. Because it would have sounded unfathomable after all the malevolence between us.

It’s funny how things change. I’m going to a game to support him despite me not knowing a single thing about basketball. Though I’m still not wearing his number because of what he did Monday and the rest of this week.

I’m extremely salty about it and very much horny, and he knows it. These past few days, he’s been teasing me, touching me, looking at me like he’s ready to take me, but he doesn’t do anything.

I know he’s doing it on purpose, but two can play that game. That’s why I opted to wear Malik’s number and not his. I’d actually ordered the jersey with Landon’s number on it, but after everything he’s put me through, I asked El to let me borrow her sweater that has Malik’s number on it.

When I pivot to look at her, she has a Cheshire grin on her face.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I playfully chide.

She presses her lips together to tame it, but it breaks through and she jumps on my bed.

“I can’t take this anymore,” she blurts out. “I know it’s none of my business, but I will give you my firstborn if you tell me what is going on between you and Landon.”

“We’re just getting along.”

Polly clasps her hands together, her strawberry-blond ponytail swishing at the motion. “Oh, come on, I’m dying here, Juls. Please, I’m begging you for crumbs.”

I laugh. “I promise there’s nothing interesting to say.”

Everyone at this point knows we’re messing around. Still, that doesn’t stop them from staring at us like we’re an eclipse or something unworldly.

Especially when I head up to his room and stay the night. That seems to really throw the guys off and I don’t understand why. I’m not naive to believe Landon’s never had anyone in his room. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s had quite a few girls over, and it’d make sense, considering how experienced he is.

Even though they all know, neither Landon nor I have talked about what we’d say if anyone asked. Sometimes, I want to ask, but I’m afraid to pop the bubble we’ve encased ourselves in.

Her jaw drops on a scoff. “Nothing interesting? Just a few months ago, you guys couldn’t stand each other. You guys couldn’t even be in the same room. Now…” she trails off, a small, disbelieving laugh expelling from her. “Now, you two look at each other and you both get stuck in this world that feels like no one else can be a part of. Don’t get me started on how you’re the first person he’s ever let be in his room or how he shared his cereal with you.”

That stuns me and I take a seat next to her. “I’m the first person he’s let in his room?”

She smiles like she’s not sure if I’m being serious or not. “Yeah, he doesn’t like anyone in his space, because he gets a little overstimulated.”

A little is an understatement.

“Understatement?”

I hadn’t realized I said that out loud, but I don’t reply right away. I promised him I wouldn’t say anything he shared with me and I meant it. I’d never break his trust.

“I just meant, it’s not just a little.” I flit my gaze to my lap, staring down at my manicured nails. “Hey, can we get rid of the alcohol in the apartment?”

“Sure, but why?”

“I would just prefer not to have it. It’s not like we drink much to begin with.”

I actually don’t drink anymore. I don’t find it necessary, and I like knowing Landon feels comfortable to be around me when everyone else is drinking.

Polly’s eyes narrow and a wide grin flourishes on her face. “Yeah, no problem. We can get rid of it.”

My mind circles back to everything he’s shared with me and my heart shrivels at the thought. All I want to do is hug him and tell him he never has to feel like that ever again. I always want to say so many things when I see him, but I worry I’m overstepping, that he’ll think I’m doing it out of pity. Sometimes, I work up the courage to tell him, but then he pulls back and closes in on himself again.

Though at least now, he doesn’t look like he regrets sharing things with me. He seems a little more open. His eyes don’t look so vacant, and occasionally, I can pull a smile from him.

Maybe that’s all I can do, or all I’ll ever get to do, but so be it if it means he doesn’t have to fester on those thoughts alone.

“Can I ask you something?” I ask her.

The thousands of questions that lingered in her eyes are gone, replaced with something like understanding.

“Yeah, anything.”

“I really hope I’m not overstepping, but what do you know about Landon’s parents?”

She winces and breathes out a long, heavy breath. “I don’t know a lot, because Landon doesn’t like to share, but when I dated his brother, Ashton,” she sneers, “he told me a few things. Like Landon’s mother was an alcoholic, and that’s the reason John brought him to the US, because he was living in the UK up until he was fourteen. He’s not really close with them, except for Lucy, who you met the other day. His mom and John are a sore subject, so don’t ask him about it because he’ll just shut you out. Trust me, we’ve tried.”

I let silence sweep over us as I think of all the things he’s shared with me.

“It’s why he chose to study here, because we’re all from Montana and he wanted to be as far away from John as possible. But I guess it still didn’t work out, because John has been here on work trips and tries to see Landon every chance he gets, even though Landon doesn’t want to see him. That’s why Landon agreed to tutor you. At least, I’m guessing.”

I know that Landon could’ve gone to any Ivy League, but chose not to because he’s here out of spite and pettiness.

He shared with me the other day that this was and still is Ashton’s dream school. When the scouts were looking at them, they offered Landon and Jagger scholarships, but not Ashton. And because Landon knew it’d piss him off, he accepted it.

“What do you mean?”

She explains it all to me, and when she’s done, I can’t help but feel a tiny little dip in my stomach. I completely understand why Landon wants to be away from his father. I don’t blame him after everything he’s been through.

So I have no reason to be upset, because his reasons are so valid, but still, my chest tightens and my stomach continues to sink at the reality.

Now it all makes sense why he’s always here early or stays longer than necessary. Why he’s been so willing to tutor me every day. He’s not here because he wants to be. He’s here because he has no other choice.

Thanks to Gabby, who’s the media coordinator for the basketball team, we were able to get great seats. We’re just three rows behind from where the guys sit. And that’s the reason she’s not here with us. She’s sitting with the rest of the photographers next to the basket, ready to take photos of the game.

I wanted El to come, but she had to work tonight, but she made me promise her that I’d send her pictures.

The team still isn’t out yet. Polly says they’ll be out of the tunnel in a few minutes. They had been warming up and were out on the court, but that was before we arrived.

“I’m so happy you’re here!” Polly wraps her arms around me, holding me in a crushing hug before she lets go. “I promise I will do my best to give you a play-by-play of everything that’s happening. I know when I first started watching it, I didn’t understand why they were fouled or what a layup was.”

For the next few minutes, she explains some of the rules and the positions each guy plays. I already know that Landon is a forward/center, because he told me Monday night when I stayed over. He also explained a few rules and how they get points and whatnot.

Though it was hard to focus on anything he was saying because he kept touching me. It wasn’t the kind of touch where he was insinuating he wanted to fuck me. It was soft, featherlight, gentle, and in the moment, I got lost in how his fingers brushed my skin.

“Look, they’re here!” She elbows my side, pulling my head out of the clouds and onto the guys who are now on the court.

I instantly find Landon and I hate that I do, because this was never supposed to happen. Messing around, sharing beds, confiding in each other, and all of the other things we’ve done. Not that there were many rules to begin with, but it shouldn’t matter because we’re just having fun.

Though now it’s become more, because I’ve fallen for him and I don’t know how to make it stop.

Polly says something to me, but it’s hard to pay attention when I’m secretly hoping he looks my way. He hasn’t and I’m sure he won’t. There are too many people packed in the arena. I practically blend in with the rest of the crowd, who are all wearing the same colors I am.

But somehow in the sea of people, his eyes lock on mine and I swear everything just stops. The loud cheering, the lights, the flashes, every possible thing around us just stops.

This moment feels unreal. I thought it only happened in the movies, where everything blurs, the noises become muted, and the focus is only on the two main characters. It sounds ridiculous, but that’s how it all feels.

I wave at him, hoping my smile doesn’t convey what I’m feeling inside. His gaze dips to my lips, but only briefly before they drop to my sweater and linger on the number in the middle of my chest.

He does a double take on the number and then casts me with an inscrutable expression. Then turns his back to me.

“Oh, he’s annoyed.” Polly snorts.

I blink, snapping out of the trance I was in.

“Who?” I play dumb.

“Number sixteen.” She plays along, head tipping in Landon’s direction. “I wonder if it has anything to do with the hot blond next to me not wearing his number.”

“There are like a hundred—no, over a thousand girls wearing his jersey. I’m sure he’ll be all right.”

I’m not exaggerating. I think Gabby told me the arena holds up to twenty thousand people or so.

“A thousand girls, yet you’re the only one he was looking at,” she cheerily says, her smile brimming with amusement.

I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed myself more than I have today. I’ve been to a few football games with my sorority sisters, but even then, I didn’t care for the sport nor did I understand it.

I thought I was going to feel the same way about basketball, but I was wrong. Everyone’s excitement is magnetic. It’s hard not to feel and absorb every ounce of their enthusiasm. Then, there’s watching Landon play.

How he blocks and powers through the other players to make a basket, and let me not get started on how hot he looks. I have to admit, it’s been hard to really focus on the game. We’re winning by ten points and that’s as much as I know. It’s been hard to pay attention when he looks the way he does.

His body glistens with sweat, making his tattoos stand out more than they already do. His damp hair sticking to his forehead and neck, his hard muscles. God, the way they ripple and flex with every movement.

Despite the distraction, I still can’t stop thinking about what Polly and I talked about earlier.

Especially now that we’re at halftime, those thoughts resurface and I hate the sinking feeling that returns.

“Hey.” I grab Polly’s elbow to get her attention since she’s talking to the girl next to her. “I’m going to the restroom. I’ll be back.”

“I’ll go with?—”

“No, it’s okay.” I wave her off. If this were a party or the club, then I’d let her come with me, but we’re in public with hundreds of cameras around us. “I’ll be back quickly.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

I’m off and thankfully, when I reach the restroom, there’s a short line. By the time I’m inside and done, I feel somewhat better again. As I’m reapplying my gloss, I hear someone scoff next to me. I move, thinking maybe I’m in their space, and go to apologize but pause because I think I recognize her

“Sorry,” I say as it quickly dawns on me who she is, Nikki. The girl who was talking bad about me to Landon.

“Mmm,” she sneers.

“Is there a problem?” I tuck my gloss in my purse.

I’m not a confrontational person. I prefer to be at peace than to argue, but after everything that happened with Sienna, I’d rather get all of the issues sorted out.

“Nope,” she curtly replies and stands in front of the mirror next to the one I’m at.

I consider walking away because I don’t owe her anything, but I genuinely have no idea what I did to her and if I don’t ask, it’s going to bother me.

“Obviously something is wrong. I know what you said about me to Landon, and I can’t understand why? We don’t know each other.”

She sardonically laughs and faces me. “This is random, but do you by chance know why Landon calls you Hollywood? Although I’m sure that you do since you guys are such great friends ,” she remarks satirically, with a smug smile. “Is it some kind of inside joke between the two of you? Because if a guy referred to me as that, I wouldn’t be friends with him.”

My brows pinch in confusion and at the look on my face, a quiet snarky laugh falls from her mouth.

“Oh…so you don’t know?” she innocently asks. “Sorry, I thought you did. Since you guys seem to be so close .”

Now that I think of it, I don’t know why he ever called me Hollywood.

“I guess since we’re being open with each other, I think it’s funny you’re trying to pretend like you don’t remember what you did.”

I’m taken aback. “I’m sorry, I don’t?—”

“Don’t act stupid. Two years ago on April first, you covered my car with toilet paper and that stupid silly string shit and then Saran-wrapped it.”

I blanch, staring at her with incredulity. “What? No, that wasn’t—I didn’t do that. I swear. I would never do that. I promise.”

She stares at me with a bored, disbelieving look and goes to walk away, but I stop her.

“Wait, I swear I wouldn’t do that. I-I…”

I trail off as I think back to that day, and suddenly, it all clicks. It may have been two years ago, but I remember finding those empty cans of silly string after I let Sienna borrow my Rover. It was a peace offering. She needed a car and I thought maybe that would make us okay, but now it all makes sense. She used me.

“I’m so sorry.” I close my eyes briefly, feeling humiliated, and on the verge of tears. “I’m really sorry. I know this won’t make up for it, but I can buy you a car wash gift card? Or I can give you money. I can Venmo or PayPal or?—”

“Holy shit.” Her shoulders sink and awareness seeps in her face. “It wasn’t you, was it? You’re blond and the girl in the camera was…brunette. Fuck.”

Sienna was going through a phase and had dyed her hair brown that year.

“I really thought it had been you. I recognized your car because of the last numbers on your plate and you look like that girl.” Her gaze sweeps over me. “But you’re taller than she is. I…fuck, I really thought it was you.”

I plaster a smile on my face. “It’s okay. I’m just glad we got this misunderstanding out of the way. I really am sorry about that confusion, but please let me pay you.”

“No, it’s okay,” she quickly says, but carefully as if she knows I’m about to fall apart in front of her. “I assumed it was you and I was wrong.”

There’s a tense moment of silence before I slice it.

“Why does he call me Hollywood?” My voice cracks and I clear it before it happens again.

“Don’t listen to me. I don’t know what I’m talking about.” She flashes me a small, forced smile, then slips out of the restroom.