Obsessed with the Heartbreaker: An MM College Romance, page 5
I raised my eyebrows, fighting a smile and failing. “Cry? You’re not even messy, Henry. You should see what Eliot’s dorm room looked like after a week of finals.”
If I’d learned to live with Eliot’s kind of chaos, I could very much deal with Henry’s fake mess.
Not to mention it would give me a chance to snoop.
“Try not to look so happy about it,” Henry grumbled before half-turning toward his desk and opening his laptop.
I started with the mess of clothes by his king-sized bed, which had been clearly thrown out directly from the closet. They all smelled clean and were easy to put back in, leading me to the rest of the things laying on his bed.
Papers, pencils, an unopened bag of vegetable chips he’d already liked when we were friends, and a whole lot of attitude.
I glanced at him, sensing a weird weight to the quietness enveloping us, and couldn’t help but notice the tension lingering in his broad shoulders. Henry was tall, with an athletic frame, the result of good genes, and not necessarily because of how gym-prone he actually was, which was why I resented how unreasonably good his biceps looked.
Yeah, that was the only reason.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, straightening up with all the pencils and pens I’d gathered from the bed.
His shoulders tensed further. “Other than poverty and war?”
“With you, smartass. You look tense.”
I shouldn’t be asking. I knew that, and yet I couldn’t stop myself.
Henry didn’t even mull over it before he replied, “None of your business.”
“You could make me listen to your woes if you wanted to annoy me even more,” I suggested like an idiot.
What was I even saying? Words were coming out of my mouth without my brain ordering it.
It was the Henry Campbell effect.
“Don’t ask me about my woes if you don’t want me to ask about why you sounded jealous about Maddox earlier,” he tersely replied, making me tense all over.
“I’m not—”
“Don’t bother with lies, Andino. I could always see them in your face.”
And didn’t that land like a rock in my stomach?
Because he had. He always had. Something that even then, when we were on good terms, had terrified me.
I shut my mouth and kept tidying up.
Was I jealous of Maddox? Was this bitter feeling in the back of my tongue every time I saw him, when I saw Henry come out of his bedroom, the green-eyed monster?
Much to my demise, I had to admit to myself that it probably was. He was, after all, my replacement, wasn’t he? The person that Henry nowadays bared his soul to. The one he told his secrets, his deepest desires, the one he didn’t need to act around.
Did they spend lazy afternoons laying side by side, talking about anything and everything? Did Henry want to kiss him?
Had they already fucked?
A tight ball formed in my chest, irrational anger making me bite my tongue.
I hadn’t been able to admit to it then, but as time passed, I’d slowly come to terms with it. The fact that this longing I felt for Henry wasn’t something that you could call mere friendship. Especially if you paired it with the curl of heat I’d felt when he kissed me.
Especially when the thought of Henry pressing behind me had come to me more than once while I was taking care of myself in the shower.
But thinking about it now was useless. It would only make things more difficult, especially knowing that when Henry found out about me helping his father—and he would eventually, of that I was sure—he would hate me, for real, forever. I would be as good as dead to him, and that would be it for us.
So if I knew it, and I knew that the practical thing would be to just let it go, why couldn’t I just stop wondering if Henry and Maddox were secretly together?
Because I was a masochist, that was why.
Picking up more papers, from both the bed and the floor, I found some that weren’t just loose notes and homework.
They were music sheets.
“Do you still play?”
Henry whipped his head toward me, his chestnut hair fanning like he was in a damn hair-product commercial, and in two steps, he was next to me, pulling the sheets off my hands, and throwing them into a drawer.
“Not anymore.”
“Why not? You love music.”
He used to talk about it all the time. All his favorite songs, his favorite bands. The rush he felt when he was playing the guitar.
Henry had, in fact, been in a band in his two first years of college, something I knew from his parents and from gossip, and secretly, I’d gone to seven of his gigs, hidden myself in the back corners of bars, and stood there, listening to him play the guitar, wishing we were still friends and I could congratulate him afterward.
They had disbanded almost two years ago now, though.
“People stop loving things all the time. I’ve moved on, it’s not a big deal,” he said, trying for lightness, but he didn’t fool me.
His words resounded inside me, like sad, harsh truths, not just about his music, but about us.
“Will you at least tell me what has you looking at the screen like you just sucked on a lemon?” I asked, because I just needed something.
Something I didn’t want to need.
Henry sighed. “It’s just fucking internship stuff. It’s driving me crazy.”
A truth.
It was a start.
“Why? I thought you didn’t…” I started and trailed off.
Because it was his father who had told me he hadn’t been planning on doing any internships.
Giving me a sideways look, Henry said, “You don’t have to pretend not to know. I know my parents talk to you and yours all the time, especially about our fights.”
Right.
I tried not to let the relief show.
“I thought you weren’t looking at internships.”
“Well, unlike my father wants to think, I don’t wish to remain a jobless blob and leech off his money all my life. So I am.”
“I don’t think that’s what your father thinks of you.”
He let out a humorless chuckle. “Well, he always showed a much nicer face to you, so that’s no surprise.”
I walked up to him until I was standing two inches away from his chair, his body heat reaching me. “You should give each other a break. He only wants what’s best for you.”
Henry’s eyes flashed up to me. “He only wants to look good in front of other people. What I want or don’t want means nothing to him.”
There was no point in arguing when he was this defensive. I picked up a loose paper sitting beside him on the floor and put it on his desk. “I could help you, you know? Consider the best options.”
“No, thanks.”
“You could also just tell me to do it, as your valet,” I tried, because this was important and this was the point.
Henry eyed me suspiciously.
He didn’t get a chance to voice his opinions, though, because after the briefest knock, the door opened.
“King, guests are starting to arrive!”
Guests?
Oh no.
Chapter 7
Henry
“You’re throwing a party?” Antony asked. Tension and apprehension tinted his voice as he stared at the now open, yet empty, doorway.
Where had cocky Antony gone? He’d been here, pushing my buttons the way he always did, messing with my head, and yet now he looked stiff, the line of his shoulders slumped. He looked almost smaller.
I didn’t like it.
Getting up from my chair and forcing him to step back unless he wanted to bump against me, I closed my laptop with a final thud.
Those internships could wait another day.
“This is the second part of your task,” I told him. “You’ll be helping us finish setting everything up for the get-together, and then you’ll be a good valet and stay by my side. Sound good?”
“I’m thrilled,” he said in his most deadpan tone.
It still couldn’t mask the unease.
I stared at him, studying him closely, still standing only a few inches away from each other because none of us was willing to move away. “What, are you nervous about one little get-together? I’ve seen you go to parties with Scott and Eliot before.”
He had, in fact, come to one of my own.
“It’s not about that.” Antony looked away, out one of my windows, like he couldn’t meet my eyes.
I knew Antony wasn’t the biggest people-person, but I thought this reaction was unwarranted.
“Then what is it? Because if you’re going to chicken out better say it now—”
“Will you be hooking up with anyone tonight?”
The question made me freeze.
It was direct.
And very, very revealing.
It made me think things I shouldn’t think, things that were impossible. But Antony’s green eyes were now staring at me, almost defiantly, like he was making himself meet my gaze, and I couldn’t forget the way he’d sounded when he’d spoken to and about Maddox not twenty minutes earlier.
This had jealousy written all over it.
My mind was playing tricks on me.
Pushing away from my desk and needing just some fucking space to think, I said, “I don’t plan my nights in advance, there’s a thing called spontaneity.”
Lies. I hadn’t hooked up with anyone for months, and tonight wasn’t going to break my dry spell.
Especially when Antony was here, so close, muddying my senses and my better judgment.
Antony huffed in a humorless chuckle, looking down at his feet, making my chest seize.
Words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.
“I’m pretty sure I’ll be too busy tonight to grace anyone with a new broken heart, though, given the new valet I have to train. So tell me. Are you coming down to help, or should I find a new victim to annoy to death?”
It was a dare. A nonsensical one at that. Because we had a deal, and if he didn’t do what I told him to do, it should have been him breaking his promise.
I still couldn’t help giving him an out.
Antony’s eyes flared when he realized, and as his shoulders seemed to relax infinitesimally, he rolled his eyes and shouldered past me.
“Someone needs to make sure you don’t drown in anyone’s spit tonight,” he said.
I ignored how relieved and delighted I felt that he decided to stay.
It was nothing.
* * *
After making my rounds around the house, finishing up, making sure everything was ready, and greeting the guests like I was some sort of Duke that was hosting them in my mansion, I set myself to make my way back to Antony.
He had stayed. Helped the rest of the guys with the setup and pushing furniture to the sides so moving about would be easier with a house full of people. The guys had accepted his presence easily and taken it in stride, surprised but unquestioning when they’d seen my stern look, and that had been that.
I’d asked Adam to keep an eye on Antony. The last thing I wanted was for him to get into trouble, or worse, someone else getting him into trouble.
And by trouble, I meant other people trying to get into his pants.
Because Antony might have limits, but that was mine. I would not stand by while someone flirted with him and trailed sneaky kisses up his throat. While his cheeks got flushed with surprised desire. While he turned his face and let the other person lean in to push their lips against his—
The red cup in my hand was crushed now. Thankfully, I’d already finished the beer that had been in it, so I threw it away in the nearest trash can and went to get him.
It didn’t take me long, and as soon as I saw him, I knew that Adam and I were going to have words. Really, it should be my own ass I kicked, because of course I hadn’t told him the real thing I didn’t want to happen, and what had Adam done?
He’d made sure Antony was integrated with everyone. So much so that he was now sitting on none other than my sofa, in the middle of a guy and a girl, who were both looking cozy, flirty grins on their faces, and a teasing look in their eyes that I knew too well from being on the receiving end of it.
They were both college seniors like me, and the fact that I’d slept with both of them only made my blood burn hotter inside my veins.
And not in a good way.
Meanwhile, Antony was just there, looking a little stiff but doing nothing to prevent their subtle advances. He looked like he wasn’t sure whether they were being friendly or trying to get into his pants, an untouched red cup in his hand. It was that hesitation that made me stomp my way there like some sort of cookie monster, ready to protect my jar.
Entering the semi-circle of sofas they were in, a dozen people or so were either sitting or standing and chatting normally in there, guys in my frat and guests both. They all looked up at me to say hello as soon as they caught sight of me, but I didn’t have time for any of them.
I was staring at one person only.
“Excuse me.”
The three of them looked up.
Looming over them, my glare was long and hard.
I saw that Antony thought it was him I was trying to kick out, but with my hand, I pushed him down on the sofa so he wouldn’t move and waited until the other two got the hint and got the fuck out.
“Oops, sorry, Henry,” Amanda said, setting herself to sit on the armrest of the sofa right next to mine.
“Your new guest has been keeping us entertained,” said Kevin, a mischievous look on his face as he did the same on the opposite side. “I didn’t know you hung out with good boys.”
I sat down right next to Antony, our jean-clad thighs sticking together, his warmth seeping into me as I put my arm over the back of the sofa—right behind him.
Antony gave me a surprised look, clearly not having expected my reaction, which made sense, because this hadn’t been the plan. The plan had been to ignore him and show him how cool, collected, and desired I was, how well I was doing without him, that his rejection hadn’t done any harm at all to me.
And yet here I was, becoming a rottweiler, stealing the red cup from him and downing it before I decided to piss in a circle around him.
“That’s right, Henry. Where did you have him hidden all this time?” someone else asked with a laugh.
“I didn’t have him hidden,” I said at the same time Antony answered, “He had me in a tiny box in his closet, in the same place he keeps his conscience.”
People laughed at his dry tone, because how could they not? Antony Andino was fucking endearing, even without trying, and his brand of humor had had me clutched by the balls ever since I’d met him.
“You’re friends with the Prince, aren’t you? I’d thought I’d seen you somewhere,” Adam said from the sofa next to ours. When Antony nodded, Adam added, “It’s so weird he’s still with that Travis Ashford guy, right? Good boy and Bad boy. The first time I saw them together on campus I thought we’d been abducted by aliens.”
The Prince was Scott, one of Antony’s best friends, and the entire reason why he was now sitting right next to me. The shock and delight from most people when they’d learned that the college Prince was secretly dating the intimidating star boxer had been the talk of the town for weeks. It still was.
It was also thanks to my deal with Antony that Travis was now happily graduated and without false accusations tainting his reputation, which of course, none of us said.
Antony shrugged, and I noticed he was sitting a lot more relaxed now than he’d been before. “I think they’re weirdly perfect for each other. Sometimes opposites do attract.”
Adam nodded, a thoughtful grin stretching his lips. “Yeah, yeah, I think I’m starting to see that.”
He was looking between Antony and me.
I knew exactly the thing he was suggesting, and my glare was strong enough to make someone piss their pants.
Adam only laughed. “Don’t look at me that way, King, I didn’t say anything!”
“And you better keep your big mouth shut,” I muttered to him while Antony was already getting swept up in a different conversation.
“So, Antony, what year are you in?” a girl beside Amanda asked.
“Third.”
“And your major?”
“Business.”
“Oooh. Hot.”
My hands balled into firsts. The poor sofa was going to be my stress ball tonight.
A guy started talking about something else, catching everyone’s attention with an anecdote, and Antony took the chance to turn to me, his mouth an inch from my ear.
“Did someone stick a pole up your ass? I thought I was supposed to be the one having a hard time here.”
“I’m fine,” I bit out, even if the feeling of his breath against my face made my chest warm, not to mention it sent a curl of heat down south.
What I wouldn’t give to have his lips brush my skin.
“Are you jealous because I’m taking over their attention? Or is it something else?”
“I couldn’t care less about their attention.”
It was a lie and a truth all at once. A concession.
A dangerous one.
One that he seemed to catch. Antony’s eyes flashed with surprise before looking away. “They’re only paying attention to me because of you, you know? I’m like this sofa. Special just because it’s yours.”
My caveman brain lingered for too long in that yours and what it was suggesting—that he was mine too.
It wanted too badly for him to be.
Then the rest of his statement registered.
“As cool as this sofa might be, it will never be charming, and you were wrapping them up around your little finger all on your own.”
Antony chuckled derisively, so self-deprecating I wanted to cover his mouth and shake him even before he spoke. “These people don’t really care about me, Henry. I’m a wallflower. If I were on my own, it would be like I was wearing camouflage.”
He was wrong. He was so wrong and he didn’t even know, because not for a day, not even for a second had Antony’s presence been less than blinding and overwhelming to me.
