Page 6 of Only With You

“I was thinking that the storage on my phone is getting full because I have to screenshot and screen record every meme to send it to you.” He takes his phone out from his pocket, glides his finger on the screen, and shows me just a few pictures and videos he has sent me.

“You’re telling me, you made me an Instagram account so you could send me memes?” I grind my teeth. “Fucking memes, Arlo?”

He chuckles, half shrugging. “They’re funny memes and my storage was getting full.”

My gaze darts to the very real Rolex strapped around his wrist. “Getting full? You have more thanenoughmoney to get more bloody storage.”

“But it’s better to directly DM you.”

“What’s his username?” Jagger holds his phone close to his face, pressing his lips together, probably to stop himself from smiling, laughing, or both.

“I followed you all…” Saint trails off, not meeting my gaze, nor does anyone else. They’re all glued to their phones, grinning and suppressing their cackles.

“Nice thirst trap. Considered me trapped.” Jagger winks at me.

“Damn, Taylor,” Jay whistles, flashing me a wicked grin. “You look good and the comments seem to agree. You got the girls going feral.”

“Fuck you,” I clip.

Remembering some girl left a comment saying she’d drink my bath water and another would lick the sweat off of me.

I’m all for licking, but drinking bath water is where I draw the line.

“No, you really look good.” Malik empathetically smiles at me. “It looks like you didn’t know you were looking at the camera. You look natural.”

“That’s because I didn’t know he was taking my photo.” My jaw aches from how hard I’m grinding my teeth. “I swear to God, Saint, you and your childish bullshit. I’m sick and tired of it.”

Out of the thousands of pictures he could have used, he posted one of me after a game. I’m sitting on the swivel chair in front of my locker, shirtless, drinking water, and extremely sweaty.

“But you love me and my childish bullshit.” He whines playfully. “It’s what makes us such great friends. I bring life to your life.”

“When did you make the account?” Jag questions, his eyes still on his screen.

“About thirty minutes ago,” he supplies.

“Thirty minutes ago?” Malik gapes, shock laced in his voice. “Bro, you already have four thousand followers and you’re still getting more.”

“I don’t care. Delete the account.”

“Oh, come on. You don’t have to follow anyone back. I only followed about fifteen people,” Saint pleads, holding his phone, showing me the account he made for me.

Something’s off, but I can’t pinpoint exactly what it is. There’s a strain in Saint’s eyes and his shoulders are taut with tension. Even his smile is a little too…forced.

He wouldn’t have gone out of his way to create this account if he didn’t have a reason. It’s cynical, but I don’t believe anyone ever does anything out of the goodness of their heart.

I find it hard to believe Saint only did it to send me memes. Something changed but what?

Wait a minute…of course it all makes sense.

I huff a dry laugh. “Mate, desperate much?”

“What are you talking about?” Jayden asks, confused.

“Stai zitto,” Saint warns, tucking his phone in his pocket, and goes to walk away, but I grab the back of his neck and hold a firm grip on it. He winces, but doesn’t pull away.

“Daisy really cut you off, huh?” I quietly ask so that only he can hear me.

The smile on his face slips, and for the first time, he’s not quick to plaster it.

---