Knights Who Stole My Heart : Knights Series Book 2

by Sonya Jesus

  He grunts when I pull away. “So you´re mad?”

  “No, I enjoy being called a slut.” I hoist my bag further up my shoulder and cross my arms in front of me. “What did you call it yesterday?” I chuckle sardonically. “I think your exact words were that I’m ‘really grasping the smutification process.’ I got to hand it to you, Connor. You make up some pretty impressive words when you are drunk.”

  “If you would have picked up your phone…” he cuts himself off and breathes in deeply, as if the air calmed his anger.

  “Yes, if I would have picked up my phone you would have apologized profusely because you’re filled with remorse. But I’m not worried about it since you probably feel better now that you pled your case to Haley this morning… and to Jaime last night.”

  My Angel warns me, Those are fighting words, Lia.

  I don’t agree. The words weren’t, but the disgust in my tone when I said them was.

  “It’s not about the punch, it’s about the delivery,” Harper’s boyfriend told me that once.

  Connor smirks derisively, but he remains quiet. Either he’s waiting for me to continue lashing out, or he thinks I’m jealous. I stare him down, not willing to engage further. I really do need to shut my mouth sometimes. I have no right to be jealous; I relinquished those rights yesterday.

  “I’m sorry.” I mumble out under my breath.

  “What did—”

  I raise my brow at him, daring him to finish that stupid sentence. If I wanted him to hear it clearly, I would have said it louder.

  He raises both hands in the air, palms extended towards me, calling for a truce.

  Suddenly realizing I’m in public, I scan the campus and see a few heads turned our way. Fucking great. I frown at Connor’s hopeful smirk and turn around. I would rather deal with a thousand Haleys than continue making a scene.

  He jogs around me, blocking my passage. “Come on, Lia! Cut me a break. It was just a party and I’ve had enough shit to deal with today. The Dean put us all on academic probation for breaking into the pool. We can’t be caught at another party or we are kicked off campus. Don’t you think that’s punishment enough? My whole freshman year is going to be party free!”

  I huff out in disbelief. “Well, that speaks to your maturity level, but what else can I expect from a freshman?”

  “That was low, Lia.” The tiny tinge of sorrow that caught in the corner of his eyes almost made me repent what I said. Almost… if it weren’t true. He can get kicked off campus or expelled, but he’s worried about his party-free agenda? “We made a mistake breaking into the pool, but aren’t I allowed a mistake or two?”

  I snort a laugh through my nose, because I’m not exactly sure if he’s talking about his recklessness at the pool or the slipups with us. Since I’m not completely innocent in failing us, I shrug.

  My indifference opens up a line of communication, “Amelia, talk to me. Are you being a bitch because I went with Jaime yesterday? Didn’t you say you wanted to explore your feelings with Robins or whoever? I don’t understand how I’m the bad guy for doing what you asked for.”

  I’m going to let the bitch comment slide because he’s right in everything he just said. I bite at my inner lip as I watch him struggle with the words inside his head. Neither of us really thought about what our recent status meant, or how it would work out.

  Maybe I was mad he went right to Jaime. Or, maybe I was just pissed that I didn’t go to Robins. Heck, I didn’t even know if I was going to be strong enough to talk to him after finding out about his discussion. All of which leads me to the question, “Connor, what are we doing?”

  He stares at me through heavy lashes while I let the silence convey the depth of my question. There’s no way he doesn’t have the same doubts. Or wonder why we keep each other on the side until one of us decides to kick the other to the curb? There is something utterly not right about us, and we both know it. Someone has to be willing to let go, and unfortunately, that someone isn’t me.

  And apparently, it isn’t him either. “Lia, this is new to me. I’ve never done an open relationship. I’m sorry about last night, but I was drunk and feeling used… and I’m not used to feeling like that. You make me… vulnerable. You peel away at me until I’m raw and no one has ever done that to me before. I hate that you’re mad, but I don’t think you are only mad at me.”

  “Who says I’m mad?” I groan. And who gave him permission to call me on my own shit?

  “Haley.”

  The name replaces whatever calm his confession has brought. “Well, here’s a little advice. Haley doesn’t know shit about me, and talking to her for two hours isn’t helping your case.” I side step him and keep going on my path. I don’t want to watch him play Frisbee, but something causes me to turn and shout some more. “You want a cheerleader? Go find the one you hung out with last night, or call Haley. She seems to always be available for you when I’m not."

  “You are lashing out at me because you are jealous.” His lips twitch into a smile. “You regret asking for an open relationship, don’t you?”

  He shouldn’t be smiling. “I’m reconsidering.”

  “Wow. You don’t mean that,” he says, acting as if I just torched his favorite book.

  “I mean it. I usually mean the things I say.”

  “I’m not going to let you quit on us.” His words blew me back. The authority in them made me want to slap him and hug him all at the same time. “You can push all you want, but I’m going to win your heart, Amelia Martins.” A sexy smirk slowly causes his lips to seem a lot more appealing than before, and my insides feel like goo.

  Great, my Vixen kind of loves him right now.

  “Watch me play in the tournament?” There it is again. That authority that makes my Angel go all, Umm hell no and my Vixen all, Whatever you say.

  Since they are each controlling one of my legs and preventing me from moving, I stall. “Why would I do that?” The last thing I want to do is sit out here for hours watching Frisbee, but he knows I’m alluding to the relationship.

  “Because you may not love me yet, but you know it’s a possibility even though I’m an ass sometimes.”

  “Sometimes?” I question, giving into the warm fuzzy feelings my Vixen is injecting me with. It’s like a drug and the numbing effect makes me feel more benevolent.

  “Yeah,” he says, closing the distance again. His lips brush against my earlobe, sending shivers to the nape of my neck, where they accumulate before bursting down my spine and across my shoulders. My body twitches as they travel to every crevice and cause a stir. I vaguely remember being angry, but it didn’t seem important right now. Not with him this close, and all of him intoxicating all of me.

  “This right here.” He plants a kiss just below my ear, causing me to shudder in response to the wave of goosebumps flowing through me. “That reaction, is why I’m not giving up. You want me Amelia, almost as bad as I want you.”

  Oh my. I smother my smile by pressing my lips together.

  He pauses, and steps back enough to stare into my eyes. “Please stay and watch me play. I promise to be on my best behavior.”

  I clear my throat and tighten my ponytail to busy myself. “Okay. But I’m starving. Can I grab some food from the Breaker and then come join?”

  He leads me up towards the soccer field and up to the Breaker where he plants a soft kiss on my lips and sends me on my way.

  Chapter 15: Ultimate Frisbee

  Lia

  Imagine my surprise when my ass is on the field running after Frisbees in the unusually scorching October heat and failing miserably at the game in general. Who knew Ultimate Frisbee was an actual thing? There are even rules! Ugh, and guys take this shit really seriously. So, how I got suckered into joining the game, I have no idea. But, I partially blame Connor for sitting with his team the whole time and blatantly ignoring me after asking me to stay. The boy has his priorities all discombobulated. The other side of the blame? I become just plain clueless w
hen in the presence of Aiden Keys.

  I got a quick rundown of the rules when Christian asked me to play and fill in for one of the guys that couldn’t make it. I don’t even think I said a coherent yes. I might have just shaken my head in agreement. The next thing I know, I am in the middle of the field, a bunch of guys arguing and screaming at me and I kind of look like a deer gazing into the headlights. I am about to have an anxiety attack until I hear Connor’s voice calling to me, “You have to run, Lia.”

  So, I start running, in no direction in particular, until I realize I am chasing my own team members. I only realize this when my Vixen sighs in appreciation of Dylan’s very defined muscles. Before my Angel can disapprove, she tells her, Ah sue me, but any girl would follow the hotness.

  She has a point, which means I need to stop making a fool out of myself and start chasing someone on the other team. I pause my very untrained self from running and inhale deeply, trying to ignore the burn in my throat.

  As I scan the soccer field for my target, Dylan turns to me and says, “Princess, mark Jake.”

  I nod my head in agreement, and he goes after some bald kid. Now, all I have to do is figure out who Jake is. Oh, and what the fuck does mark mean?

  I hear Connor again, being a cheerleader despite the fact that I am failing miserably. I am prone to humiliation in front of the gods. However, I’m extremely successful at announcing to the whole campus how out of shape I am. It’s only been five minutes since the game started, and I don’t want to move anymore. I am dying. It’s only a matter of time before my heart claws its way out of my throat and abandons me.

  No more running— running is exhausting. I hate it with a burning passion. Thus, I hate anything that involves it, and Ultimate Frisbee involves a lot of it. Run after the guy with the Frisbee, run away from someone, and I assume I’m running towards a touchdown thing-a-ma-jig if I ever catch the disc.

  Nope! After this, I go back to only running for two instances: after the ice cream trucks or away from psychos. I’m keenly aware that if the psycho’s in the ice cream truck, I’m screwed. But it doesn’t matter now anyway.

  Now, I need to focus. Mark Jake.

  I cough a few times to ease the ache and use the time to find a mortal to run after. The shorter brown-haired guy is the one guy who doesn’t seem to have a Soccer God chasing him, so I’m going to assume that’s Jake and sort of run after him.

  After what feels like hours, but is probably more like ten minutes, someone calls a timeout, and I find myself being ushered along to the sidelines by a concerned Christian. He puts his arm around me. “You going to pass out, Princess?”

  “You owe me one. Don’t blame me if we lose.” Though I am not sure if I actually say it since I’m working on reestablishing a normal breathing rhythm. He laughs and pushes me into the huddle where Aiden is spitting out instructions. They might as well be in Chinese because they’re absolute gibberish to me.

  I give up and leave the huddle to grab some water from my bag. Connor runs up to me with a huge smile on his face.

  What is he smiling about? I ask the ladies in my head. My Vixen wants me to play nice since she’s on overdrive because of all the magical god testosterone, while my Angel is too exhausted to care.

  “I wish all these people would just disappear,” Connor says, wrapping his arms around my waist. He glides his palms down to my rear, cupping my cushions and squeezing tightly, in no way discreetly.

  “Connor!” I squeal as I choke on the water I’m gulping, spilling some on the vest. As I look over my shoulder to the still huddled Soccer Gods, I send a silent thanks to God for the already red face from the running.

  “You okay?” he asks, bringing my attention back to him and to where his hands were currently located.

  “Why did you just do that?” The words don’t pack as much bravado as I intend them to because a cute smirk plays on the corner of his lips. I follow his gaze down and see the watermark between my breasts. “Shit. My boobs look like they are sweating.”

  He grabs a strand of sticky, wet hair, that must have fallen out of my ponytail while I was running between his fingers and tucks it behind my ear. “Well, if it makes you feel better, you look good sweaty.”

  I smash my lips together in order to keep a straight face.

  I bet I look as sexy as a wet muppet. I take another sip of water and tell my Vixen to keep her comments to herself. I turn to him, capping the bottle and asking, “The failing miserably and sweating thing does it for you, huh?”

  He chuckles, leaning in to whisper in my ear, “You do it for me.”

  Oh. I don’t know what to say to that. But, I’m starting to like this open relationship thing. Well, as long as I didn’t know about the others. I think this could work.

  Coach Deacon, the referee, blows the whistle and I hand the bottle of water to Connor.

  “Talk about this later?” he asks, taking it.

  My name is called out. Holy moley! The whole team is calling my name, even Aiden Keys. Whoa. I think that’s the first time those three letters have ever graced those perfectly pouty lips. I walk towards them, pinching myself because Aiden just said my name.

  Then, I remember last night and his lingering hands, and all the surreal euphoric feelings my Vixen loves to dope me up with vanish. Aiden is a jerk, and I should do well to remember that.

  I actually do my best at catching the Frisbee, and even though I miss it a few times, I finally catch one that is thrown by the opposing team. I think they call that an interception, bitches. I restrain myself from doing a little butt wiggle happy dance, and quickly find out that I have ten seconds to throw the damn thing. Let me just say, having a huge guy chasing me scares the shit out of me, especially when he starts counting down. So, when Dylan’s screams for me to throw it, I do exactly what he says and release it through the air.

  It is not my fault that I throw it directly at Aiden’s forehead.

  I cease all movement the moment I hit him. My hands fly up to my mouth, covering my shock.

  “Were you aiming for him?” Christian asks as he comes to a halt next to me.

  I lower my hands, because I look stupid, and answer his question. “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t aiming for anything?”

  Christian smiles. “Of course I would.” He looks over at his captain, pointing with his chin. “Not sure he will though.”

  Oopsie. Aiden does not look pleased; he looks downright pissed. Ugh. Beautiful and pissed. Saying sorry isn’t going to do any good here.

  “He looks pissed,” Christian informs and confirms my suspicions.

  “He always seems pissed when he’s around me,” I say immediately without thinking.

  Christian starts laughing hysterically which worries me.

  “Oh shit! Don’t tell him I said that, please.”

  “Secret is safe with me, Princess. I mean, I might start keeping a score sheet or something though.”

  Well, that’s just freaking hysterical, isn’t it?

  We watch as Lacey passes Aiden a pack of ice, and he holds it over his forehead making sure to send the evil eye my way.

  “Well, let’s get back in the game. I doubt you can call a foul on your own teammate.”

  The rest of the game is relatively uneventful, and I fucking hate that we win. When the gods cheer and rejoice their win, I silently curse them out. Winning means we have another game today which is absolutely disturbing! I don’t want to play anymore. I’m dirty and sweaty and about ready to pass out. I silently make my way back to where my belongings are and sit down.

  Connor’s arms wrap around me as I wallow. With his chest serving as a backrest, he touches his cheek to mine and seductively articulates his desire by pressing his body into mine. “Well, there goes my hopes of getting you alone this afternoon.”

  Ugh. He’s persistent, isn’t he? My Angel is not amused.

  My Vixen, on the other hand, sighs in appreciation of all the perfection underneath his clothes and conjures up
images of him in a towel to ensure I remember.

  My Angel groans at her counterpart’s inability to make up her mind. Anything with a penis seems to stir you up, she jabs disapprovingly, then turns to me, with arms crossed in front of her chest, disdain written on her face. What if I pop the hormone filled balloon that keeps this Vixen afloat and deflate her?

  With a shake of my head, the ladies vanish, and I remember Connor’s waiting for a response. “Isn’t your team up next?”

  “Yeah,” he says.

  As I put some distance between the two of us, I reach into my bag for something to drink. I untwist the cap and take a sip. “I really wish I could just go home.”

  “You have some time before the next game, but not a lot,” he pauses and points to my water bottle. “Can I take that?”

  I hand him the water bottle and he kisses me on the cheek just as his team is called up to play the next game.

  Sebastian walks up the Walk of Pride. I’m so happy to see my replacement, I almost jump on him and hug him. I tug at the ugly neon orange vest around my waist, loosening it, while simultaneously trying to wave him down.

  He grins, spotting me and jogs over to me.

  I tear off my vest and hand it to him. “Thank God you are back.” I shove the fabric in his hands.

  He chuckles.

  “I hate Frisbee,” I offer an excuse for my over-enthusiasm.

  “What? I thought you enjoyed hitting boys with Frisbees,” he jokes at my humiliation, then takes the vest and places it over his head, tightening it around his waist in one swift motion.

  Hmmm. It took me forever to figure out how to put that thing on, and I definitely wore it the wrong way. “Oh yea, a couple more and I might have been able to get the whole team with the Frisbee.” I make light of the situation because I’m mortified about hitting Aiden Keys in the head. It’s even more humiliating that someone who wasn’t even present is calling me out on it. “As you can see. I think they will be happy to have you back. You know, since you actually, know what you are doing.” I glance over at his team, sitting on the far end of the field, near the Rook entrance.