Page 5 of Obsessed with the Heartbreaker

Was it just me, or did this sound ridiculous?

There had to be a catch.

“It’s an example. But you will do it if you want me to show my proof.” Henry waved his phone in front of me, like he was dangling a carrot in front of my eyes.

We might not have been talking for three years, but my knowledge of him hadn’t gone away. My awareness of him had been strong as ever, even through a distance. I had observed him, picked up facts and news about him, from both college gossip and from his parents, who were still my mother’s neighbors, and done some good old sniffing around of my own.

Henry had to have a reason to be making this stupid request.

Because no part of me believed that he wouldn’t have shown the proof of innocence anyway, whether I was involved or not.

He was counting on me thinking he was the asshole everyone else thought him to be. The secret King, the wicked Heartbreaker.

But he didn’t know I knew he liked to spy on me in the library.

That as much as he pretended to care nothing for me, he cared enough to stalk me. Because as much as Henry might hate me, he was also obsessed with me.

And that changed everything.

For so long, I’d thought he was indifferent to me, I’d thought hehatedme, but this little discovery had brought a sick wave of longing that I shouldn’t have felt in the first place, not when we couldn’t be more different, not when our…friendshiphad always been meant to crash and burn eventually.

And now the untouchable Heartbreaker was giving me a chance to slither back into his life? Into his realm?

This wasn’t about Travis. It wasn’t about helping someone else.

It was only about us.

Henry’s jaw ticked as he waited for my response, and I saw in his eyes he was getting ready for me to counter him, to call him on his bullshit—

But I didn’t.

“Annoying tasks.”

“Yes.”

“Nothing nefarious.”

“Unless you count doing my laundry as nefarious.”

“Fine. Then do it.”

Something flashed in his dark eyes. “You’ll do it?”

Why did he sound so disbelieving if he’d been the one to make the offer in the first place?

He had his own reasons, and I had mine.

This was a chess game.

“You want me to be your valet? Then I will be. Now show them the proof.”

The way his eyes narrowed suspiciously on me shouldn’t have stirred something in me. An irrational curl of excitement at the prospect of being in his life again. A hint of hesitation, a tinge of fear at the thought that this might go wrong.

You’ve gone mad, my inner voice told me.

I didn’t listen.

“It’s a deal, then,” Henry said, voice suddenly rough.

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