Page 4 of Obsessed with the Heartbreaker

“You told me to come.”

“What if I’d been a psycho?” His eyebrow raised in a perfect arch, a similar expression to the one he had always used with his conquests.

Not that I’d been looking.

I cleared my throat. “Glad you weren’t.”

A humorless smile stretched his lips. “I guess it’s still up for debate.”

“No, it isn’t.”

The smile disappeared.

My heart rate sped up.

No matter what had happened between us, no part of me could think badly of him. I’d sometimes hated him, cursed him for how torn on the inside he’d made me feel, but thinking he was abad guy?

Never.

Henry’s light chestnut hair reached a little under his collarbones. Slightly shorter than he used to have it. It moved with the early spring breeze while the weight of secrets shared and words unspoken made the air thick between us.

Henry’s nostrils flared but he didn’t acknowledge my answer. “I’m here to offer you a deal.”

My eyebrows rose.

“In—” Henry took out his phone to look at the time. “Five minutes, Scott’s boyfriend will get in trouble.A lotof trouble. But you can stop it.”

“I can?” Nothing made sense to me right now. This was the longest conversation I’d had with Henry in three years.

And of all people, it had to be aboutTravis?

I was a little bitter.

“Well,Ican,” Henry corrected, an evil smirk growing on his face. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. “I have proof of his innocence, but I won’t show it unless you tell me to.”

This was favor for a favor. That much I could understand.

But why me?

“So do it,” I still said, playing dumb.

Whether he was talking about career-ending trouble or stolen-a-pack-of-gum trouble was anyone’s guess. It probably wasn’t the latter, but what did I know?

Henry gave me a look. “Don’t play dumb with me, Andino. It won’t work.”

The sound of my surname on his lips made a pang of hurt resound in my chest, reminding me of all that was lost. “You’re the one not being forthcoming, not me.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest, which left barely an inch between us.

His glance downwards told me he was as aware of it as I was.

Henry cleared his throat.“I have conditions.”

Ofcourse,he did.“Which are?”

His sharp gaze pinned me in place. “Every annoying task I ask you to do—laundry, fetching coffee, or handing me a glass of water in the middle of the night if I don’t feel like getting up—you’re going to do it. You will come when I call for three months.”

I stared at him.

When he didn’t break into a laugh, like this was some sort of sick prank, I said, “You want me to come in the middle of the night to give youa glass of water?”

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