Page 55 of Only With You

My attention falls to the food laid out on the counter. “You know how to cook?”

Julianna stiffens briefly before her body eases and leans her hip against the counter. “No, of course not.” She gives me a tight-lipped smile and picks up the knife, but grabs it by the blade. “I have a chef who comes over and cooks all of my meals. I just stand here and look pretty. After all, I’m a blonde Barbie bitch who lives off of her daddy’s money.”

She waves the knife in the air, still holding it by the blade.

I recognize those words and I realise now that she overheard my conversation with Nikki. She’s a girl who’s best friends with Leah.

We don’t usually hang out, not unless Leah is around. I don’t even hang around Leah like that, but I know her brother. He lives with the guy who does my tattoos.

Of course one of the few times I’m around Nikki, Julianna overhears that exact conversation. She has a disdain for the sororities. I’m not sure why, but she didn’t hold back.

I didn’t necessarily say anything to agree, but I also didn’t disagree.

“Stop holding the knife like that.”

“Like what?” She eyes the object in her hand like it’s foreign to her.

I’d grab it, but I’m positive she’d stab me. “Put the fucking knife down. You’re going to cut yourself.”

“Oh, I’m touched. I had no idea you cared that much about me.” She places her hand over her chest, the blade digging into her palm.

A pinch of frustration burrows in my chest. “I don’t, but I’m not in the mood to clean up your blood.”

I go to grab the knife, but it all happens too fast. I don’t only feel completely taken aback, but I’m really fucking impressed, because somehow, she’s managed to flip the knife. The tip of it is pointed at my chest and she has this look in her eyes like she won’t hesitate to stab me.

Goddamn.

“This foreplay is getting boring.”Far from it.“Either do it, or put it down.”

“Like you, I’m also not in the mood to clean up blood.”

Spinning on her heel, she grabs a raw chicken breast and slices it in half.

“I didn’t say anything.”

She lets out a humourless laugh. “You didn’t have to. Your silence said it all. You love to make assumptions about me when you don’t even know me.”

I say nothing, because I’m not sure what to really say. I did and didn’t expect this conversation to turn into this. Jagger wasn’t wrong when he said we’re volatile.

When we’re near each other, it doesn’t take much to set us off. Like this simple question. I was genuinely curious, but I guess I could have worded it differently.

“If you’re done standing there and taking up space, go sit down before I really stab you and give you salmonella.” The corner of her mouth tugs upward.

“What do you need help with?”

She freezes, the knife suspended in the air. “I swear if this is a dig at me not knowing how to cook, I’m going to kick you out.”

“No, this isn’t a dig…” I tuck the chain under my shirt. “I’m sorry.”

She stares at me like I’ve gone mad. “What did you say?”

I’ll admit I’m a dick, and I acknowledge that. I can also acknowledge when I’m wrong.

“I’m sorry about the way I worded that. It wasn’t my intention to piss you off. At least, not today.”

She looks unimpressed, but a flicker of humour flashes in her eyes. It only lasts a millisecond because she now looks puzzled.

“Did you really just apologize to…me?”

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