Page 169 of Only With You

“Finnick. I had asked him before…you and I.”

“Oh.”

47

JULIANNA

Landon spinsme one last time as the song comes to an end.

“You were right, you did baby giraffes an injustice,” he says when I’m facing him again.

I pull away, flip him off, and turn off my record player. “I got better and you know it.”

He shrugs, but I see the tiny smile on his lips.

I roll my eyes, grabbing the bags off of the coffee table. As I sift through each one, my heart grows and beats harder with each thing I see. A box of peppermint tea, a bag of mini marshmallows, everything I use to make hot chocolate, and the brand and size of tampons I use.

If I could, I’d be a melted puddle of goo on the floor for him.

I can’t imagine Landon in the female hygiene aisle perusing through them to find the right size. Wait, but how would he—it’s as if he knows what I’m thinking because he speaks up.

“I have a half-sister and two girl best friends. I know about the sizes and I remembered yours when I saw the box in your bathroom.”

Words linger at the tip of tongue, words I want to so desperately blurt out, but what if it ruins everything? I’d hate to jinx how good we’re doing because I couldn’t keep my mouthshut. There are so many signs, so many things he does that feel like he sort of, kind of…likes me.

But when I made the comment that we weren’t dating and what we’re doing will end next month, he didn’t say anything. If that isn’t a sign not to go for it, I don’t know what is.

Digging through the last bag, my thoughts fade and I swallow a laugh as I pull out a jersey with Landon’s number and last name on it.

“Cute, what’s it for?” I hold the jersey by the tips of my thumb and forefinger, away from me.

The playful glint in his eyes fizzles, replaced with something darker. “Seems like you wore the wrong number today, but don’t worry, for the next game, you can wear that. Now you can get rid of the jumper.”

The self-assured expression on his face makes me giggle. “Thanks for the concern, but I’m not getting rid of anything. You see, I’m a big fan of fifty-five. He was pretty great out there. Don’t you think so?”

His mouth parts, but he closes it. He gives me one last look before he’s walking away.

“What are you doing?” I follow behind him, but he doesn’t stop or reply. He keeps walking like he’s on a mission until he’s in my room and opening my closet door.

“Where is it?” he gruffly asks, back to me.

I shouldn’t play along, but I really love pissing him off. I may also be doing this, because he’s going to semi with Sienna. Now I understand why she’s been in a great mood and less bitchy.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I eye the sweater on my desk chair. I took it off when I got back home and left it there because I didn’t want to forget to give it to El. But he can’t see it because the chair is tucked into the desk.

“Julianna.” His voice deepens. “Where the fuck is the jumper?”

I hum, pretending to think about it as I take off my pajamas and slip on his jersey. “I can’t remember.” I stand in front of my full-length mirror, looking at where the hem stops right at the middle of my ass. When I lift my gaze, through the mirror, I find his eyes slowly coasting upward, stopping at my ass before they’re burning at my back. “I guess I forgot.”

Landon blows a breath through his nose and his tongue clicks. “Okay.” He steps farther into my closet, and I hear the metal hangers scrape against the bar that holds them.

My eyes go wide because my box of toys is in there. We may be comfortable around each other, but I don’t want him to see it.

“Get out of there. I have the sweater here.” I step into the closet, but it’s too late because when he turns around, he’s holding the box. “Put that back.”

“Okay.”

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