Page 26 of Only With You

“Hollywood?”

8

JULIANNA

“It’s fine. You’re fine,”I chant under my breath.

I attempt to repeat the mantra, but slowly, the memories of that night start taking over and cloud my thoughts.

Cole trapping me. His body holding me down. His hands all over me, touching me, forcing me.

My heart is sporadically pumping, and I feel hot and claustrophobic. And my body, oh my gosh, it feels like it’s on edge, waiting for something to happen. Everything feels like it’s closing in on me.

My breathing becomes ragged, and goosebumps erupt across my entire body. I shudder at the reminder that this is the same way I felt that night.

Squeezing my eyes, I fan my face and remind myself like that night, nothing happened. The memories are somewhat foggy, but I remember how he was on top of me. I remember being hot, so damn hot. I remember telling him no, yet my body wasn’t reacting that way because it felt desperate. Still, I know I told him no, but he didn’t care.

He says I wanted it because I was grinding against him, but I swear I didn’t. I swear…my nose stings and my eyes water.

I know I was drugged that night but I can’t prove it. Sometimes I feel crazy and wonder if maybe I just got really drunk. But I know I had one drink. I hate how this always happens. How I always second-guess myself and feel so fucking stupid because I desperately want to remember all the details, but I can’t.

If I was drugged, how it happened is beyond me. I’ve never done drugs and I don’t accept drinks from just anyone or set it anywhere.

I’ve never hated myself or felt more pathetic. I’m not a victim. I’m just a naive idiot who trusted someone I shouldn’t have.

“Hollywood?”

I go rigid and shriek so loud it echoes throughout the alleyway.

“It’s me, Landon.”

I should’ve immediately recognized that accent and the stupid nickname, but my mind went straight to Cole. But now that I know it’s him, I feel oddly…okay. My heart is beating normally and I don’t feel like I’m suffocating.

Dropping my hand to my side, I peel my eyes open and crane my head back. Lo and behold, Landon Taylor stands in front of me, and for the first time, his expression isn’t vacant. At least, his eyes aren’t because what they hold is anger.

Lowering my gaze, I stare straight at his chest, wanting nothing more than to be able to disappear. This isn’t how I envisioned my Saturday night. Running into Cole, and now Landon being here and catching me on the brink of an anxiety attack.

Despite the laughter and chatter in the distance, the muted music from inside, the silence between him and me feels overwhelming.

Pushing the strap of my shoulder bag up, I stare up at him again.

“Why are you here?” The abrupt question filters out of my mouth, but I don’t regret how harsh it sounds. I’ve also pregamed before coming, so anything I say isn’t my fault.

“Why are you here?” He echoes my question, matching my tone.

“Well, I’m here to smell the fucking flowers,” I sarcastically answer, keeping my tone as aggressive as before. “Why areyouhere?”

“Well, I’m here to smell the fucking flowers,” he repeats, still matching my tone.

His response should be irritating, but it has the opposite effect. For some inexplicable reason, my lips curve upward and I smile.

It feels wrong smiling at something he said, but I can’t help it and I’m going to blame this all on the tequila shots I had tonight.

I press my lips together to stop them from growing, but they only rise higher.

Note to self: never drink with Polly and Gabby again!

Clearing my throat, I blow a steady breath and open my mouth to ask him again what he’s doing here. But my tipsy brain takes over and I say something else instead.

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