Page 82 of Obsessed with the Heartbreaker

For what felt like the first time in my life, I felthappy. 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’sboyfriend?” Oliver asked, whispering as per usual in the library with me.

“I’m not hisboyfriend,” 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 thatthatparticular word had started to grate inside me, making me wonder for the smallest second what it would be like?

That was dangerous.

“Well,hedoesn’t know that, so it keeps him at bay. Which is good.”

My brain kept sending me back the wordboyfriendas 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 himnaked. 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 evensmilingat 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 athing, 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 sayingwastrue. 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 ofmywoes onyou,” 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, orProfessor Sexy. Oliver had signed up for one of his classes, not because ofhim, but because of his blooming interest in the subject.

My brows furrowed. “Did he justtext 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.

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