Page 24 of Only With You

I don’t like miscommunication or assumptions. Right from the start, I want them to know I don’t do relationships, sleepovers, or cuddling. I’m also not particularly soft when I fuck. I made the mistake thinking I made myself clear to a girl, and realised right away she wasn’t into what I was.

Needless to say, I’m cautious about who I sleep with and who I talk to.

“Smile a little.” Jagger stands next to me with a beer in his hand. “It’ll make you look more approachable.”

“No.” Turning on my heel, I head on up to the VIP section with Jagger in tow.

Once we get to the top, we head all the way to the back where the rest of our friends and teammates are. I take a seat on the couch and Jag sits next to me.

He sloppily smiles and his eyes glaze over, indicating he’s slightly buzzed. I know this because he pokes my cheek. Usually, he wouldn’t touch me because he knows how I feel about it. “Come on, you know you want to.”

I smack his hand away. “Not even in the slightest.”

He shrugs, not offended by my curt response. “By the way, why’d you say no? Her best friend is hot! She’s got big tits and everything, your favorite!”

I roll my eyes as Saint wedges himself between us and throws his arms over our shoulders, pulling us in for a hug. “I mieiamici!What the hell are you guys doing? Stop beingstronziand let’s go down there!”

The stench of whiskey penetrates my space.

Grinding my teeth, I fight back the urge not to gag, but not hard enough, because I uncontrollably shudder.

This is the number one reason why I don’t like coming to places like this with alcohol. I want to so badly, but I just can’t overcome the sick feeling anytime I smell alcohol, particularly whiskey.

Rolling his arm off, I stand and close my eyes briefly, counting to ten, and chug the rest of the water.

It’s not his fault. He doesn’t know how much I detest whiskey of all things. No one knows and I keep it that way. It’s pointless to share any tidbits about my life. It does nothing but bring pity and that’s the last thing I want.

“You good?” Jagger eyes me carefully.

“Yeah, fine.”

But unlike Jag, Saint’s oblivious. He stands and approaches me with a lopsided grin and sways. “Landon, you need to let loose and have fun. There are so many girls. So manyhotgirls.”

I arch a brow. “What happened with Daisy?”

The question sobers him up, but it’s as if he caught himself slipping because he shakes it off. “It’s best if I let bygones be bygones.”

Narrowing my eyes, I stare at him inquisitively. “But?—”

“It’s for the best. I’ve moved on and I said yes to Breanna.”

Jagger and I look at each other knowingly and while I hold back my laugh, he doesn’t. He cackles and takes a swig of his beer.

“What’s so funny?” Malik comes out of nowhere and stands next to us.

“That this freshman”—Jagger slings his arm around Saint’s shoulder and tugs him close—“is a dumb-ass.”

Malik snorts. “Why? What did he do now?”

Since he lives with us, he’s gotten accustomed to Saint’s bullshit. He’s also been roped into it.

“Good luck moving on, mate,” I mock, keeping a straight face.

“Moving on from what?” Malik stares at us, all perplexed.

Saint shakes his head, quickly answering, “It’s nothing.”

“From her.” Jagger tips his head down where the drunken crowd dances, his gaze settling on Saint’s obsession.

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