Knights Who Stole My Heart : Knights Series Book 2

by Sonya Jesus

“In my bag.”

  We step through the doors and Connor goes over to the couch.

  “Did you leave it at the gym?”

  “I have no idea where I left it.” Amelia turns towards me, and in the light, I can see the darkness under her eyes. “I thought I had it at Connor’s, but this night has kind of been a blur.” She glances over at the irate Freshman. “It’s been a long one.”

  “How are you not collapsed on the floor right now?” Avery closes the door and heads towards her bedroom, nearly tripping on her way. “I’m dead tired. I’m going back to bed. It hurts just standing up.”

  Amelia nods. “Me too. I’m going to need some sleep soon.”

  Connor’s jaw tenses at Amelia’s ambiguous dismissal and his eyes search her face for confirmation. She forces a smile but it doesn’t fool him; she wasn’t going to give him the anniversary present he was hoping for.

  I can see him mentally giving up because I’ve seen, or rather, caused, that look plenty of times. Connor rests his neck on the back of the sofa, using the pillow to prop it up, and stares at the ceiling in contemplation.

  I catch Amelia rolling her eyes before she fully remembers I am there. She holds up a finger and says, “Give me one sec,” before disappearing into Harper’s room.

  Finding myself relatively unsupervised, I scan the room. Where could I put the camera? It needs to have a good view of the sofa, and the doorway to her bedroom. I spot the Tiki Bar and all the lights and things dangling from them. Perfect. I make my way over to the bar, pretending to pick up some of the bottles and read the labels.

  Amelia comes out of the bedroom, surprised to see me behind bar. Or is that nervousness because of my job?

  Appeasing her doubts, I grab the Vodka bottle from the lower shelf and point the neck of the bottle in her direction. “Mind if I mix myself a drink?”

  “Sure,” she says apprehensively, probably waiting for me to write them up for having liquor in the common area when some of the suitemates aren’t 21 yet.

  “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  She giggles, snapping Connor out of his moping session. He squints his eyes suspiciously in my direction before he calls Amelia to his side.

  Picking up on the jealousy, she takes a seat on the couch next to him. He holds her hand possessively, staking his claim and puzzling me in the process.

  I try to recap the night’s events and wonder what I did to trigger the initial signs of jealousy. Or is he actually astute enough to see through my charade? No, that cannot be it. I’m reading too much into a natural reaction, but just in case, I’ll assuage his intuition as soon as I place the camera.

  I busy myself with searching for a plastic cup while I wait for Connor and Amelia to be remiss to my presence. It takes about three minutes for Connor to beg Amelia to go to her room and explain herself. I don’t particularly enjoy some kid ordering my Queen to explain herself, but I need them to be distracted. I stick a piece of adhesive on the back of the camera and place it in one of the dangling decorations before pouring myself some water, instead of vodka, and wait for the appropriate time to intervene in their conversation.

  I enjoy being privy to their little discussion. It’s so much better than listening in through the camera or watching them on screen. Being a third party provides me with a completely different language that I don’t always have access to when I eavesdrop. Connor’s body language emanates sexual frustration so loudly that it practically resonates through the room. Amelia may be naïve, but she isn’t blind. No doubt she’s in tune to exactly what he wants and feels guilty for dangling it in front of him.

  They speak in hushed tones; I only catch a few exasperated sighs from Connor, and some strained, high pitched words from Amelia like “Sorry” and “Really?” When she throws her head back and purses her lips together, trying to regain her composure, I rejoin them, reaching them just in time to hear Amelia reprimand Connor, “You know, if you are just going to act like that maybe you should go home.”

  Connor senses my presence before Amelia does, cutting their conversation short by addressing me with an angry, “What?”

  I resist the urge to pick him up by his shirt collar and throw him out. Instead, I ask Amelia, “Do you think Harper will be much longer?”

  “Give me a minute. I’ll go call her on her cell.” Amelia stands abruptly and steps away. Both of us watch her perfection disappear into the bedroom again.

  I face Connor, and with a low voice, begin to appease his previous suspicions. “I’m sorry man. I didn’t mean to cock block you. Your girl sort of roped me into coming up here.”

  He grunts, resting the back of his head on the backrest of the couch.

  I give him a moment to gather himself then attack. “So, your little show for her worked?”

  He lifts his head from the sofa, narrowing his eyes, “It wasn’t for show! It was how I felt.”

  Right, sure. I mirror his position by taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch and slowly mimic his stance, inviting him to confide in me. “Well, then she’s lucky to have someone who isn’t afraid of saying I love you in front of a whole crowd. I’m sure she will be extra thankful tonight.”

  He shakes his head. “You saw that? I only mouthed it.” He sighs softly, pausing a minute before addressing my second comment. “I thought so, too, until the stupid fire alarm went off and now she’s freaking out. Telling me she wants to take things slow.” That’s my girl. “Do girls normally do that with you?”

  I laugh, insinuating a no, but then I remember telling Amelia I hadn’t slept with Harper. “Taking it slow is overrated. You going to take it slow?”

  The killer in me thinks, Careful what you answer. It can mean the difference between me killing you tonight and you waking up for class tomorrow.

  “I don’t have a choice; she sets the pace.”

  Well then, she just saved your fucking life, because the things I would have done to you, you would beg me to kill you.

  “And I love her, so I don’t really want to push her.”

  “So, nothing after all that tonight?” I confirm.

  “Nope, she told me I could sleep over but that she wasn’t comfortable going forward.”

  I smile and nod my head in understanding. “She seems different than other girls.”

  Connor and I both look at Amelia as she opens Harper’s door, phone in hand. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” he replies.

  Chapter 5: Let’s talk about sex, baby.

  Lia

  As soon as Harper comes home to attend to our impromptu guest, Connor doesn’t waste time. He leads me by the hand, taking me into the room and locking the door behind him. I grunt internally, prepping myself for the bone he has to pick with me. I know for a fact that I am driving this poor guy insane.

  Pre-fire drill, my Vixen decided that Connor had to be my first. My thought process was basically a chant that drowned out my Angel. “He loves me. He wants me. He needs me. He’s hot. He has possibilities.” Then the fire drill happened and the sudden fear that came from being nearly naked, braless and on the precipice of losing something I held on to for so long overwhelms me, making me nauseous and reminding me that losing my virginity tonight wasn’t an option.

  I am completely aware of how unfair my indecision is to Connor. So, I must initiate the conversation I’ve been trying to avoid but need to address.

  “Amelia?” he says, passing by me and taking a seat on the bed.

  I don’t sit down because nothing about this night is comfortable. Comfortable Connor has officially made me uncomfortable.

  “Am I sleeping over?” He smooths out the rumples on my comforter.

  Why is my bed rumpled?

  I lose all train of thought when I gaze into his eyes; the lingering expectation to pick up where we left off still there. The pressure to do something I am not ready for unsettles me, allowing the guilt over my momentary lapse of judgment to rumble through my insides.

  I am
doing everything wrong. I shouldn’t be a virgin, but I am. I shouldn’t feel ashamed, but I do. I shouldn’t feel so anxious over this, but I do. I want to let myself get carried away with all the romance of tonight, but it’s off. Nothing seems right about tonight.

  This conflict within myself is torture. If I tell Connor the truth it could buy me some time, or decide my fate for me. The ramifications of the truth could end us, and then what? Am I willing to lose the possibility of love, to hold on to something I should have gotten rid of years ago? Then again, if he loves me, he will wait for me. At least that’s what the general consensus is on the matter.

  Personally, I think it’s a load of shit.

  “Amelia?” he snaps me out of my internal freak out session. “Stop overthinking things and talk to me.”

  As if pouring my heart out is easy.

  “Did I do something to make you change your mind?” He rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward, “Tell me, are you not attracted to me?”

  I roll my eyes. Fucking Robins was right.

  Now Connor thinks this is his fault, but he’s so wrong this time.

  Tonight, I’m more attracted to him than I have ever been. Seeing him sing to me like that… definitely changed something in me. I barely felt the struggle between my Angel and Vixen. That has to mean something. Our relationship must mean something.

  I lean against the closed door, “I’m very attracted to you.”

  “But?” he says, sensing my hesitation.

  “But what?”

  “Lia? I have no idea what is happening. I’ve been trying to understand what is going on in your head, but you have me so confused right now. Everything was going great, right? I—” he pauses for the briefest of moments, but that brief moment was enough to convey everything. “Are we good?”

  My heart strains against my chest because I have no definitive answer. Telling him that the answer sways from yes to no depending on the day, or hour, probably isn’t going to help the situation. So, I nod, choosing the answer that causes the least amount of friction and stalls the inevitable. “Why would you think we weren’t?”

  He exhales deeply, “I thought maybe I did something to turn you off? Did I do something in my room? Something you didn’t like?”

  I smile and answer truthfully, “No, I liked everything you did.”

  He smirks. His posture sags a bit, opening his legs a little wider so I can use one of them as a bench. “Then? Come here.” His voice dips so low, so seductively low. The intonation in those two commanding words lures me in, almost convincing me. He tilts his head towards me, beckoning me towards him, and I cross my hands behind my back before they get me into trouble.

  He gets up. The way his jeans hang just low enough to see the indentations of his skin hypnotizes me. Flashes of what happened earlier invade my mind.

  As he approaches me, all I can think about is the feel of his bare chest against my fingertips, and how the smoldering heat of his passion rose my temperature to the point that every tender caress ignited my skin, nearly setting me on fire.

  For the first time in my life, I stopped thinking. I reached that pivotal moment where all doubts turned into a smolder of smoke, and every scorching kiss brought me closer to the brink of combustion. I was on fire with all the flames between us, but I wasn’t fireproof. With the Vixen as my arsonist, and my Angel melting away, I was in trouble. I never knew how good letting my Vixen take over could feel, or how dangerous.

  The Vixen doesn’t need an emotional connection; she’s addicted to carnal pleasure, and I’m afraid there’s no coming back from that.

  “Amelia…” The eminent thrill in between my name and the heavy breath sparks the Vixen, causing my body to shiver in response.

  I suck in a breath at his sultry stride. This is definitely not Comfortable Connor. This is someone else altogether, someone who is stimulating all my previously latent lubricious instincts.

  Shit. I need some internal sprinklers to keep my Vixen at bay.

  I hold up a trembling hand, pausing his advance.

  He thinks I’m building suspense; I can see it in that wanton smile. He’s on a mission, and that erotic quest will have me naked and regretting it in the morning if I don’t put a stop to this.

  Moment of truth, my Angel reemerges to encourage me. “You are more than welcome to stay the night as long as your promise to take things slow.”

  It’s like I poured bucket loads of ice water on him.

  His face quickly becomes devoid of any sexy remnant. “Slower?” he impulsively responds with all the harshness I expected. “You want to go slower than we already are?” He isn’t happy with the pace, not that I needed confirmation. He groans in frustration. “Lia, it’s been a month!” He takes a deep breath and backs up. “You’re torturing me. You have no idea how hard it is not to have this intimacy. I love you, Lia. I’ve done things for you that I never thought I would. I thought you were just making me work for it, and you are definitely worth working for, but this is it.” He says holding his hands up in the air, “I have no big romantic gestures left.”

  I don’t appreciate the acrimonious connotation of his words, but I try to keep my own bitterness in check. “I don’t need any more of them, Connor. Thank you for tonight, really. It was beautiful and seeing you up there, sharing that part of you, was incredible.”

  “Stop sugarcoating, Lia.”

  “Okay. It freaked me out at first, but then the roses and the surprises… you made me feel really special.”

  “Not special enough apparently.”

  I wince at the surrender in between the words. My rejection is hurting him.

  “You’re just stringing me along.” I wasn’t, not really. I see the decision in his eyes before he even makes it. He’s giving up on us unless I tell him the truth. “Meg and Jaime warned me.”

  “Don’t bring them into this,” I snap. “Just stop bringing people into our relationship!”

  He stands up straighter. “I’m not, Lia. Just tell me what’s going on. Why do you want to take things slow?”

  I don’t approach him; he doesn’t approach me. I contemplate again, for the millionth time, if he is deserving of the truth.

  “It’s not that I don’t like you, Connor.” Okay, let me fix that. “I really like you. I just want us to last, and I think rushing into a sexual relationship when we’ve only been officially dating a couple weeks will hurt us.”

  I’m an asshole. I’m fully aware of all the shit that comes out of my mouth. All that internal push to tell the truth and I avoid it at all costs.

  Why should I tell him when he’s just going to blab his mouth to Jaime and Meg and give them more fuel for ridicule? He’s making a formidable argument against himself by bringing up those two nosey snitches.

  “A couple of weeks is plenty of time. I’ve known you for more than a month now. It’s time.” Adamantly spoken. Too bad the more he argues, the less I’ll budge.

  He keeps giving me reasons not to give in. As attractive and tantric inducing as the romantic gestures are, I won’t be bullied into this. If he understands, fine. If he doesn’t? I won’t force him to try.

  “I’ve never waited this long before.”

  A light bulb goes off in my head when I realize there’s a deep-seated flaw in our relationship, and it isn’t a person: It’s history. His past relationships have established a norm for him, and he uses them as a guideline. “I’m not your past relationships, Connor.”

  “Neither am I.” He’s right! My past whatevers have made me leery, but neither of us is willing to admit the past hasn’t worked for either of us.

  “I’m not ready for that step, Connor.” Robins was right. I wasn’t ready for him, and Connor wasn’t ready for someone like me. I step away from the door, no longer blocking his access. If he wants to leave, I won’t stand in the way.

  The movement captures his attention. “Oh, no you don’t.”

  Excuse me?

  “You’re afraid having
sex with me is going to make us break up? That’s ridiculous, Amelia.” His brusque movements come to a halt, and he smiles at me. “If anything, it’s going to make me want to keep you longer.”

  Is that meant to be sweet?

  I shake my head in confusion, “I don’t think that comment is doing what you want it to, Connor.” I understood. No sex means no Connor.

  He closes his eyes, realizing what he just said.

  I snort in disgust. “You should go.”

  He approaches me, reaching for me and I step away. He clenches his fists and drops them to his sides. “That’s not what I meant. I mean it will make us so much stronger.”

  That’s not particularly reassuring.

  “Is it wrong to want to connect with you on that level? I am in love with you, Lia. I just want to have all of you.”

  That is never going to happen. I don’t think I can ever give all of me to someone. All of me means so much more than sex, and giving him the secret pieces of myself will provide him with a sure-fire way to break me. I can’t commit to all of me, when I can’t even commit to some of me.

  I think maybe we should just finish this. “And if I don’t want to connect tonight?” I take a deep breath before my voice cracks. “What exactly is going to happen?”

  “Oh, come on! Don’t do that! Don’t twist my words around. I’m not saying it has to be tonight.” He takes two large steps towards me and closes the distance. “Just talk to me, okay?” He kisses my forehead sweetly. “I’m sorry if I sound like an asshole, I’m just a little worked up.” He kisses the side of my cheek. “You do that to me.” He kisses the tip of my nose then trails down to my lips. “I love you,” he says softly before pressing his lips to mine. He interrupts the kiss, “I really love you, Lia.”

  He’s persistent. I give him that. He’ll understand if I tell him the truth. “Connor.”

  I approach him, putting my hand in his. The tension in his jaw vanishes. He looks over at the bed again, and I follow his gaze. I notice a box of chocolates on the bed with a teddy bear that had a note between its vampire teeth. “What is that? Is that from you?”