Page 20 of Obsessed with the Heartbreaker

There Henry was, coming out of a room.

But not his.

That was the one on theright, and the guy behind him was none other than Maddox.

The King’s Hellhound himself.

That wasn’t his nickname or anything, but it was what I thought he looked like this morning. With his inky black hair and penetrating blue eyes, he stared at me like I was shit under his shoe. Like he would send a laser through me and eliminate me from existence if he could. Like my mere presence offended him.

Not to mention he was Henry’sbest friend.

The title sounded bitter even in my own mind.

Henry quickly caught sight of me and nodded. “Good. You can follow orders. This won’t be nearly as painful as I’d thought.”

“No spanking, then?” I asked, walking up to them, and feeling Maddox’s eyes try to bore a hole in my skull.

Henry’s eyes flared. “Don’t tempt me.”

My lips twitched, because if there was one thing I’d always liked, it was pushing Henry’s buttons. I hadn’t come here for this, it wasn’t the point, but once here? I just couldn’t help myself.

And if I felt a sick sense of satisfaction at the thought that IknewHenry, and I had for longer than Maddox had, no one needed to know.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me,” Maddox said, resting his hand on his ajar door and thankfully wearing a T-shirt now. A black one with some band’s logo on it.

“Don’t worry, I won’t need any help trimming Henry’s toenails,” I said before I thought better of it.

Maddox glared at me. “You think you’re funny, smarty pants?”

“Oh, I know I am,” I replied with dripping sarcasm.

Henry quickly took hold of the back of my T-shirt, sensing the tension, and with a look Maddox’s way, he dragged me into his bedroom.

I closed the door behind us.

Henry gave me a look. “Do you have no survival instincts? Antagonizing Maddox is a bad move.” When I didn’t respond, he added, “I thought your cheek came out to play only for me?”

“I guess it just made an exception for the Hellhound you have asbest friend,” I replied, sounding almost as bitter as I felt, and tried to detract attention from the fact by looking around the space.

Henry’s bedroom was well-lit and airy. It was now mostly in shadow, sunlight quickly fading, with a huge bed to the left and a long desk stuck to the wall on the right. It was also very much a mess, but not the kind that someone made when they didn’t clean regularly—this was intentional.

A mess he’d made just for me.

“I won’t even dignify that with an answer.” Henry sat down on his desk chair and pointed to the rest of the room. “This is your playground for today. Make it presentable. Go cry about the mess to someone who cares.”

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.

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