Page 56 of King of Pain (Damaged Hearts #1)

Obsession

Chance

I'm barely paying attention.

Liz's voice echoes around the gallery as she walks beside me, gesturing to the empty walls and polished concrete floors of the space like she’s presenting a stage.

It’s my first day interning at Muse, and she’s giving me the grand tour, explaining the details of the upcoming exhibit.

Her energy is infectious, and I know I should be soaking up every word.

But I’m not.

My brain is fixated on one thing and one thing only.

Jason.

The guy Ant is having dinner with this week.

“We’re covering all the gallery walls in canvas,” Liz says, walking ahead of me.

“Jazzy’s coming in next week to coat the entire space in graffiti—his signature chaotic color and texture everywhere, except for one large section we’re keeping blank.

For opening night, we’re reconstructing pieces of an old city wall he tagged years ago, and displaying them somewhere in the gallery.

And then he’ll live-paint that one untouched section right in front of the guests. ”

It’s cool. Brilliant, even.

I barely hear it.

Because all I can focus on is that damn text.

Hey cutie! Just confirming we’re still on for dinner Thursday. 7pm at Thai Basil, right? Can’t wait to lay eyes on you.

I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. Haven’t slept much either.

When I finally got up the next morning, Ant and Little G were gone. My phone had a text from him: Had to get Guinness home and have a bunch of stuff to get done before the work week starts tomorrow.

Then a second one: Thank you for sharing your pain with me. I'm so sorry you had to go through all that. I need some time to process everything, but I'm not going to turn my back on you, Chance. I will be there for you, as your friend.

Friend?

No.

Friend just won’t do.

Anthony Pacini is mine. And I’m going to do whatever it takes to get in his heart again.

I texted him back: Thank you for hearing me out, Beautiful. I'll take what I can get. Just know that I'm going to fight to add 'boy' to the front of 'friend' again.

He didn’t reply.

But Sunday night, I still sent my usual: Good night, Beautiful.

And this morning? Good morning, Beautiful.

This morning, he texted back one word: Morning.

Pretty sure I split the corners of my mouth smiling at that.

I haven’t asked him about his date. I don’t want to know. I really don’t.

And I don’t want him to think I was snooping either. It was an accident. One glance at his phone when it lit up on the counter. He really should change his settings so that full messages aren’t visible on a locked screen notification.

But now that I know? It’s all I can think about.

I don’t have a right to question him. Not yet. But it’s going to drive me mad.

Whoever Jason is, he’s not a factor.

Ant and I are meant to be. And no one’s going to stand in my way.

“What do you think?” Liz asks, snapping me out of my spiral.

“Hm?”

She smiles, amused but patient. “Should we reconstruct the graffiti wall at the back of the gallery or on one of the sides?”

I glance around the space, grateful for the distraction. “Definitely the back wall. It’ll be the first thing people see when they walk in. Maximum impact.”

Liz hums her approval and nods. “I couldn’t agree more. You’ve got good instincts, Chance.”

I smile faintly, trying to refocus.

I want this internship to go well. I need to be present; to show Liz she made the right choice taking me on.

But first?

I need to get things with Ant moving in the right direction. Because until I do, no amount of graffiti or gallery talk is going to silence the storm inside me.

Not when someone else is laying eyes on him this week.

Not when that someone isn’t me.

Liz glances down at her phone and says, “I have some calls to make. My staff will get you acquainted with everything.”

I nod. “Thank you again for the opportunity, Liz.”

She smiles warmly. “It's my pleasure. I'm excited for you to work your first exhibit.”

“Me too,” I say. “I'll do whatever you need to help get ready.”

She hums in approval, then looks up again. “Oh, and Chance?”

I glance her way.

“We need to set a time for me to come by your place this week and view your pieces. I'm not going to let it go, so you might as well show me sooner than later.”

She turns and heads for her office before I can respond.

I sigh, watching her disappear behind her door. I can’t even muster the energy to be nervous about showing her my paintings of Ant. Everything is Ant anyway. It has been since the day I met him.

The rest of the day passes with Liz’s assistant, Suzy, showing me around and giving me my assignment list. I’m basically admin support—coffee runs, lunches, scheduling, shipment sign-offs—and I’ll work the door the night of the exhibit opening.

It’s not glamorous, but I don’t care. I just want to be near the art.

After wrapping up the day, I head straight to the gym to try and work off the restless energy crawling over my skin. Right now, my entire world revolves around what’s going to happen Thursday night. It has me on edge—and it’s only Monday.

After a quick warmup on the treadmill, I put myself through a rigorous leg day circuit.

I settle into the squat rack, the last stop on my rotation, and focus hard on form.

If I’m going to lose my mind over the thought of Ant going on a date, I might as well channel that energy into my best assets—the ones I know drive him wild.

He’s always had a thing for my thighs and ass, and fuck if I’m not going to use it to my advantage.

From across the gym, I catch Kai watching me with hungry eyes. I snicker to myself. The membership twink is cute, but like I said, I need to be tossed around.

Sorry buddy, even if you are a top, this ass has one man’s name on it.

I finish my sets, wipe down the bench, and head out, my nerves still tangled but my legs feeling like jelly.

It’s Thursday night and I’m pacing my condo, hands raking through my hair for the millionth time, completely untethered. My phone sits on the counter, screen glowing with the time.

6:32 p.m.

Twenty-eight minutes.

In twenty-eight minutes, Ant will be on his date.

With Jason.

The name alone makes me grind my teeth.

It’s taken up every inch of mental real estate I’ve had this entire week.

I texted Lexi, hoping for some insight, but she didn’t know anything about a Jason.

I even considered asking her for Jen’s number, but let’s be real—Jen would probably rip me a new one just for trying, and even if she answered, she sure as hell wouldn’t tell me anything about Ant’s dating life.

I stop pacing and stare at the skyline through the tall windows in front of me.

“Fuck it,” I shout to no one.

I storm into my bedroom, grab the tightest jeans I own, a black t-shirt that clings to my chest and strangles my biceps, and head into the bathroom. I splash water on my face and fix my hair, though I’m not even sure why I’m bothering.

What do I think I’m going to do? Burst into the restaurant and ruin their date?

No. I just… need to see.

In a moment of madness yesterday, I walked past Thai Basil to scope it out. The place is basically a fishbowl—floor-to-ceiling windows, every table in plain view from the street.

God, I’m losing it.

But I might actually go insane just sitting here.

I grab my wallet and phone, slip on my shoes, and head out the door. It’s only a five-minute walk, but every step feels like an eternity.

When I get there, it’s 7:05. I look around the parking lot and the sidewalks, hoping maybe I’ll catch Ant arriving, give myself a shot at stopping this.

But the second I look through the glass, my stomach drops.

Too late.

He’s already in there.

Sitting at a corner table.

With a muscular, absurdly attractive guy across from him.

I clench my fists at my sides.

This can’t be happening.

As if the universe is trying to tell my psycho ass to turn around and go home, the sky cracks open and starts pouring rain.

But I don’t listen to the stupid fucking universe.

I don’t move.

I don’t blink.

I just stand there in the rain, watching them through the window.

Minutes pass and I’m soaked.

As the rain comes down harder, my heart breaks. Every drop burns like acid.

I’m paralyzed.

Like a car crash in slow motion, I watch Jason reach across the table and place his hand over Ant’s.

And just like that—

I see red.