Obsessed with the Heartbreaker: An MM College Romance, page 16
“Oh.” Adam half-turned, resting his hands on the table behind him and sighed in apparent relief, staring sightlessly at the wall. “That’s good then.”
Suddenly, my dark mood evaporated and I just wanted to laugh.
“Were you going to fight me for Mad’s honor if I had been?”
“It would have been hard, but yes.” Adam’s hazel eyes now staring right at me again, were determined and slightly threatening.
Had I been someone else, I might have balked.
Me being who I was, I simply took this in with curiosity.
The sheer honesty in that sentence was…interesting. It made me see things in a whole new light.
Did Maddox know Adam, straight, had all of these feelings about him?
Probably not.
“Good to know.”
Adam nodded, as if we’d just had a good, deep conversation, and pushed away from the table. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I wanted to say I’m happy for you.”
That made me freeze. “What for?”
“For you and Antony, of course.” He patted my back with a small genuine grin. “I’m happy that you’re happy, King.”
And with that horrible sentence out between us, Adam left me to stew in the mess of feelings boiling inside me.
I’m so fucked.
Chapter 24
Henry
Mad and Adam’s words haunted me that whole day, hanging over me like whispering ghosts, wanting me to face the tingling feelings inside me, but since I was stubborn as a mule, I fought against it. I ignored their pressure.
And just to make things worse, the next day, after an hour of kissing Antony senseless and making each other see stars, the following words came out of my mouth.
“Want to watch a movie?”
Antony immediately froze. He’d been pulling up his boxers, the late afternoon sun illuminating the outside of my bedroom. Antony’s dark hair was disheveled in the best possible way. He used to wear it shorter, but now it had grown, it looked even better on him after I’d been pulling on it for what felt like hours.
After the smallest hesitation, Antony cleared his throat. “Don’t you have things to do? Parties to attend, or ‘get-togethers’ to show up to?”
He sounded like he thought both were the same thing, but they definitely weren’t.
And even if there was indeed a get-together tonight, I didn’t feel like participating. I didn’t want to be surrounded by people, who were either trying to praise me or flirt with me, when the only warmth I craved was from the guy in front of me.
The sight of his naked chest was still glorious to behold. Antony was quite a private person, and even if he’d apparently had no problems taking off his T-shirt in front of everyone while we had washed the house, any sort of nakedness from him still felt intimate to me.
Intimate in a way that made my heart flutter like there was a caged bird inside my chest.
“I don’t,” I said, trying for a light tone, sitting up on my bed against the headboard, arms resting on the pillows behind me. “But if you don’t want to stay—”
“I do,” he said quickly, as if afraid I’d take back my offer.
Not a chance.
“I don’t have anything to do tonight anyway. Eliot is at his parents’, and Scott is having a romantic dinner date with his boyfriend.”
So he’d been about to spend a Friday night alone in his apartment?
No.
Now he was definitely staying, and I wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“Bring my laptop. I’ll order us some pizza,” I said, decision made, and Antony’s responding smile was enough to light up the room and the whole world.
Jesus, get a grip.
I was well aware that a quiet night in was many people’s dream plan. Crazy as it was, I did get it, even if everyone knew the Heartbreaker thrived when he was surrounded by people that would fawn over him and beg to kiss his feet like the King everyone thought him to be.
Appearances aside, though, I used to love quiet nights in. Not by myself, but with the guy currently settling himself next to me, still shirtless, still with the afterglow of sex making his eyes glitter with satisfaction, still with the power to wreck me with just a glance.
Once settled, we sat side by side on my bed. I used books and pillows between us to hold up the laptop currently playing an old sitcom show we both used to like when our situation was different and there were less burdens making our shoulders heavy. There were several inches separating us, especially as we both ate our pizzas, but as time went by, they started to disappear.
I tried and failed to ignore the goose bumps that appeared on my skin when I became aware of our nearness. Ignoring the way Antony’s warmth and scent beside me made me feel was also the advisable thing to do, but the feeling was insistent. The haunting words were whispering in my ear like a devil on my shoulder, telling me to just get a little closer. It would be fine. Nothing weird about it.
Then next thing I knew, my arm was over Antony’s shoulders, the laptop pushed further down the bed so it wouldn’t bother us, and his thumb was caressing abstract patterns on my thigh under the bed sheets.
“Do you do this often?” Antony asked all of a sudden, quietly breaking our silence.
“Do what?”
“Cuddle your sexual conquests.”
I tensed momentarily then forced myself to relax. “Never in my life have I called anyone a sexual conquest, but no. I don’t make it a habit.”
Antony hummed in contemplation. “You’re good at it.”
His quiet confession stroked something inside me that I didn’t know needed stroking, and I instinctively tugged Antony closer to me, his head now basically resting against my chest.
“Is it a special occasion, then?”
It was, but I wasn’t going to tell him. It would reveal something that I would rather keep in the dark. Something that the haunting whispers were telling me to just accept.
“Do you want me to stop, is that it? Because I can—”
My tone had been dismissive and threatening at once, a deflection, and one that worked all too well, since as I started to take my arm off his shoulder, Antony immediately reached out to hold on to my hand and put my arm back where it had been.
“No. It’s fine.”
He sounded so petulant, like he was only reluctantly admitting it, that I almost wanted to laugh at just how ridiculous we both were.
I didn’t move my arm away an inch.
The show kept on going, the characters cracking jokes and getting into sticky situations that in the past made us chuckle without fail. Now, however, both of us were suspiciously quiet, simply basking in the pleasure of being so close to each other—or at least that was what I was doing, much to my demise. And then, to make things even worse, Antony started sniffing me.
His head, which was comfortably settled on the upper part of my chest, was turned to me, his nose tickling my neck, his lips close enough to kiss, bite or lick the expanse of naked skin. It was open for the taking. Always for him.
“Do I smell of come?” I asked, clearing my throat but not daring to shift too much lest he push away from me.
“No. You smell of your fruity shampoo,” he said softly, shamelessly, taking another deep inhale from my long hair. “And also…” his nose shifted again to my neck. The brush of his lips made me shiver and his hand tighten on my leg. “You smell of man.”
“Sweaty and dirty, then?” I asked with a sardonic tone.
Antony did push back right then, but there was a mischievous grin on his handsome face. “I’m not showering you with any more compliments, if that’s what you’re looking for. I’m not making you any more big-headed than you already are.”
I scoffed, even if now I was just aching for him to compliment me. To say something about me with earnest honesty in his eyes, to say something reckless, something like he liked me, which would make me inevitably furiously kiss him and press him once more against the bed.
But he didn’t and I didn’t.
More silent moments passed before I couldn’t resist it anymore and asked. “And do you do this often?”
A slow blink. “Cuddle, you mean?”
I nodded.
The self-deprecating grin on his face immediately bothered me. “I’ve never been in a relationship, Henry, and I’d hardly do this with just…anyone.”
Which was a confession in itself.
My heart was thudding fast, and Antony could probably feel it, but he didn’t say anything about it, only looked sightlessly away, as if deep in thought all of a sudden.
“What?”
“Do you think I need more of a life?”
The question surprised me so much I had to pause the show we’d both been ignoring and turn more fully to him. “A life? Where is this coming from?”
“I mean I’ve just…” He shrugged. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately, since I’ve been sending my internship applications, and now people want to know what else you’ve got going with your life, what kind of person you are. I only really have my grades going for myself and I’m not the most charming person in the world either, which could potentially be a problem—”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said, interrupting him, because my brain couldn’t even compute it.
It was the wrong thing to do, because Antony immediately closed his mouth and looked away. “Right. Just forget I said it.”
“No. Antony—” Thankfully, he looked at me, even if I didn’t deserve it. “You already have a life. This internship thing—I think you’re probably overthinking it, but in any case, you do have it.”
“Is spending eighty percent of my waking hours either in class or in the library a life? Because I don’t think anyone would call it that.”
“Your life doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s,” I said, feeling suddenly stubborn, because it was so damn important to me that he understood this. That he saw his own value, because the other option was just something that I couldn’t take. “You’re also not just your grades or your career. You have friends I know for a fact you love spending time with. You love your family and are the best son anyone could ever have asked for. I know my parents often wish I was like you. And most of all, you’re living for yourself and not anyone else. So if you like studying and being in a library, then do it. And if it’s you who wants to change just because, if you want to do different things for yourself, then you can do it at any point you like. You just have to start.”
Green eyes watched me closely, thoughtfully. It felt like he was piercing right through me with his gaze, like he could see the anguish going through me and all the feelings that I’d been resentfully carrying with me for all these years.
“When did you get so wise?”
“Blame Professor Larsson. His philosophical tirades have left a scar on me that I’ll never be able to get rid of,” I said lightly.
Then I realized I was brushing my thumb over Antony’s knuckles, and as much as I wanted to pull away, the way he seemed to be relaxing from this small comfort made it impossible for me.
“I guess I’ve technically been living more lately. All thanks to you.”
God, why did I feel this satisfaction at the thought that I managed to help him with anything?
“They call me a King for a reason. I’m generous and hand in unexpected gifts to my people.”
“Am I your people, then?”
“You are mine. For three months.”
Antony’s breathing hitched.
“Is it wrong that I secretly like it when you get territorial?” he asked quietly between us.
I hadn’t realized it, but our faces were only inches away from each other.
The only answer I could have given him was that I loved when he got territorial over me. But I couldn’t say it, so I just kissed him.
I kissed him and I wished the world would disappear so I could just have him with me forever.
Chapter 25
Antony
Surprisingly enough, the most stressful time of my life was also turning out to be the happiest one. Between studying, worrying about internship applications, hanging out with my friends and seeing Henry, most days I got to bed completely exhausted, dropping down like a log the second I changed into my night sweats, and went on to have several hours of deep, dreamless sleep that let me do it all over again on the next day.
And the most shocking thing? I thought I was actually learning to relax. Or at least I was thinking about it.
With my applications sent, some tension had started to leave my shoulders. My anxieties could come back to me when I had an interview date set, but until then? I was going to focus all of my energy elsewhere, and Henry made it all too easy for the focus to become him.
For what felt like the first time in my life, I felt happy. I was feeling almost light on my feet as I went to classes and even Keller had been particularly well-behaved of late. No snarky remarks in my direction, sneers kept to a minimum. I didn’t know if it was just me projecting my good mood and turning him off or the effect of our little encounter at the frat, but Oliver seemed utterly convinced of the latter, which…might have been a good assessment.
“I mean, who wouldn’t hesitate to mess with the infamous Heartbreaker’s boyfriend?” Oliver asked, whispering as per usual in the library with me.
“I’m not his boyfriend,” I said quickly, even if I felt the tips of my ears heat with embarrassment.
Not that there would be anything embarrassing in being Henry’s boyfriend, quite the opposite. But the way that that particular word had started to grate inside me, making me wonder for the smallest second what it would be like?
That was dangerous.
“Well, he doesn’t know that, so it keeps him at bay. Which is good.”
My brain kept sending me back the word boyfriend as I tried to concentrate on the homework in front of me, which made things admittedly more difficult. It was hard to think logically while having an image of Henry Campbell inside your head, and even more so when you could clearly visualize him naked. A blessing and a curse.
A very hard one at that.
Unbidden, I imagined Henry rolling his eyes and trying to bite me if I made that pun in front of him.
“Wow, you’re even smiling at your books now. This is a whole new level.”
I shushed Oliver as the librarian took a casual stroll close by, but the silence only lasted the few moments she was close to us.
Leaning in toward me, Oliver said, “You should enjoy it while it lasts, you know? I know you say you’re not really a thing, but whatever you are, it’s making you happy, so it’s good.”
My insides were a mess of tingling feelings and knots of worry now. Because what Oliver was saying was true. But the reminder that it would inevitably not last made me feel guilty for enjoying it so much. Wouldn’t it only make things harder in the end? Shouldn’t I try to measure myself, take happiness in small bites so I wouldn’t get a stomach ache?
It was a horrible metaphor for this situation, because if Henry was a meal, I would gobble him all up without restraint.
Hoping to derail our conversation away from me, I asked, “Have you ever been in a relationship?”
While I was fairly blunt most of the time, Oliver was a particularly private person. When we were first getting acquainted, I hadn’t wanted to make him uncomfortable by asking questions that might be too personal, but since I’d started confiding a lot in him—going as far as to tell him about Henry and I having sex, which was a big deal—I thought I might try to test the waters.
Oliver tensed up at first but then started to relax. “I, uh…” He sighed. “No, not really. I’ve hooked up sparingly with people in the past, but let’s just say that romantic relationships are a hassle I’m personally not willing to deal with for at least a good ten years.”
Unsurprisingly, Oliver and I had similar priorities. Whether his relationship hangups were because of his career planning or emotional issues, I couldn’t know for sure, but before Henry—and I should say even now, since Henry didn’t change anything—I thought the same thing.
“Fair.”
“I know I don’t really share a lot about myself, but, you know… If I had to share my woes with anyone, it would be with you.”
That made me smile. Oliver and I were on a good path when it came to our blossoming friendship, and little by little, I was going to let him see it was safe for him to share things.
“It would only be fair since I’ve been dumping so many of my woes on you,” I said, trying to make some light of the situation.
Oliver scoffed, about to say something snarky, I was sure, but his phone vibrated loudly on the table, interrupting us.
Cursing under his breath after he saw the preview, he opened the notification with shaky fingers and read whatever it was that had popped up.
“Is everything okay?”
A ragged exhale. “It’s my Philosophy Professor. He, uh…wants to see me about something.”
Philosophy Professor? That had to be Professor Larsson, or Professor Sexy. Oliver had signed up for one of his classes, not because of him, but because of his blooming interest in the subject.
My brows furrowed. “Did he just text you?”
“No,” Oliver said way too loudly to be in a library. Looking around with a chagrined expression, he then looked back at me to add, “Just an email, nothing to worry about.”
Pens, papers, and books all flew as Oliver gathered them as soon as possible.
“He wants to see you now?”
“He didn’t mention a time, but I know he’s available, so… Better just get it out of the way.” Throwing his backpack over his shoulder, he said, “Wish me luck?”
“Luck.” I was still a little dumbfounded about all of this nervous energy that had suddenly come over Oliver. “Text me later and let me know how it went?”
I was giving him an opening to chat if he felt like he needed to.
