Page 90 of Only With You

Granted, I invited him in, but I didn’t expect him to stay long. He’s not rushing to finish his hot chocolate and got comfortable. He took off his hoodie and left his keys in the small bowl we have by the door where we keep ours.

“Why would I buy you a new one? You’re the one who dropped it.” His gaze on my record player shifts to the videoplaying on his phone. He’s determined to make it work because he looked up videos on YouTube on how to fix it.

I’m struggling not to smile and take a picture. He’s extremely focused. A small crease is etched between his set brows and his lips are pinched tight as he uses Gabby’s pink tool set.

It pains me to say this, but he looks cute. His hands are too big for the tools, and the pink is a stark contrast to his dark aura.

“Because I’m sure somehow you’ll mess it up more than it already is.” I hide my smile behind my brand-new mug and take a sip.

He says nothing, attention trained on the video he’s watching, but I catch his lips lift into the faintest smile.

“You should smile more often. It looks good on you,” I voice without thinking.

He tenses for a palpable second and the smile on his face withers away. “It doesn’t. I’m almost done.”

It dawns on me that maybe he thinks I’m joking. Compliments aren’t our forte, so I’m not surprised he didn’t take me seriously.

“I mean it. It looks really good on you. I really like it.” I smile at him when he finally looks at me. But the vacant look in his eyes forces my lips to turn downward.

“There’s nothing to like about it.”

“There is.”

“Okay,” he replies, his tone disbelieving.

I inch closer to him and place my hand on top of his hand to get him to stop working. He glances at our hands, then at me.

I’m not sure what possessed me to touch him, but I don’t move. “I’m not kidding. I mean it,” I sincerely say. “You really should do it more often. It makes your dimples pop out.”

His steel gray eyes are distant and bleak, but I swear behind the void, something glints in them. An emotion along withpossibly a memory, but before I can determine if I’m seeing correctly, he smothers the look.

“Okay.” His voice is softer, melancholic, and a tinge of pink touches his cheeks.

There’s too much going on. I don’t know what to process first, and he must know I’m trying to figure out what that was about because he continues working as if nothing happened.

I’m not sure what that was about, but I think I made Landon blush.

“Will you do it again?” I playfully ask and remove my hand, but I don’t move away from my spot.

“Don’t start.”

I tuck my legs underneath me and tug the hoodie over my knees. “Oh, come on. It’ll make me feel special.”

I don’t miss the way he follows my movement before he directs his attention back to my record player. “More reason not to do it.”

“You know you want to,” I singsong.

“No, I really don’t,” he deadpans.

“I promise it won’t kill you to smile once in a while.”

“Julianna.” He draws in a deep breath. “If I say please, will you stop talking?”

I know it’s wrong to antagonize him, but he’s just so fun to provoke. I also kind of love how he says my name when I irritate him. His accent, accompanied with the deep timbre of his voice, does things to me.

I flash him my sweetest smile. “No.”

“You’re doing that thing where you’re pissing me off. I advise you to shut up.” Irritation laces his voice, but the corner of his lip slightly slants upward.

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