Page 74 of Scandalous Little Obsession

Max is still staring at us, not saying anything. He hasn't even wiped the blood from his chin. Finn is behind him, off to one side, while Julian is on the other. Both appear to be waiting for Max to make a move.

"You want to fight with someone over this," I start, stepping out of Leo's embrace. When his arms fall away, I instantly miss his touch. "You can fight me, but leave Leo alone. He tried to stay away from me. He tried to respect your wishes."

"No. He didn't." Max grits each word through his teeth as he tries to keep his anger in check. "He put his hands on you, Evie."

"Not the way you think he has. Which is none of your business, but since you won't let this go, let me make myself perfectly clear." I wait for him to make eye contact with me before I continue. "Leo and I have not slept together, Max. I'm a virgin. But we will, eventually. And when we do, when the time is right, your opinion won't be taken into consideration."

"The way he looks at you..."

"What about it? Yes, he looks at me, Max. All the time. With lust in his eyes. Appreciation. Admiration. Love. He looks at me the same way you look at—"

"We're not doing this here."

"What? Don't want someone else sharing their opinion on your relationship? A person you're sleeping with and have been sleeping with for a while. I can't have an opinion on that? On who you choose to spend your time with. How does that feel, Maxy? I'm guessing not great."

I could tell everyone the secret he's been keeping. Let it slip that I know whose room he's been sneaking into at the Zeta house. But I won't. Because it's not my place. And honestly, it's no one's business but theirs.

"You're seeing someone?" Lo asks, stepping up next to me. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm ... I'm not seeing anyone," he says, lowering his eyes to the ground.

My heart instantly aches for her. His words were low and muffled, but she's not standing far enough away that she didn't hear what he said. That she didn't hear him deny their relationship.

Is he ashamed of her? Why wouldn't he just confess?

"Max, I—"

"I think I've had about as much fun as I can handle for one day." Max pivots and storms through the kitchen and out the back door, the sound of it slamming behind him a clear indication that he's leaving.

No one moves. No one says anything. It's an intense few minutes before the tension in the air subsides. Brady, who's remained seated on the couch the entire time, turns the volume up on the football game before hollering, "How long until dinner? I'm starved."

That's enough for Julian to spring into action. Piper's hot on his heels, helping put the finishing touches on the meal. Lo takes charge, giving the rest of us tasks. Leo and I are instructed to get cleaned up in the bathroom. The rest of the girls begin gathering plates and silverware to set the table while the guys carry dishes over to the dining room table.

Leo takes my hand, leading me up the stairs, away from my friends. Neither of us says a word until he closes the bathroom door behind us. It's Leo who speaks first, taking my injured hand in his and setting the peaches aside.

"Does it hurt?" he inspects my hand, flipping it over.

"A little, but I'll be fine. I'm more concerned about you."

I'm afraid to touch him. The right side of his face took the brunt of Max's force. His cheek is already starting to bruise, and there's dried blood beneath his nose. It doesn't look broken, but it is swollen. So is his eye, and it's clear it's going to be black and blue by morning.

"I'm going to be just fine."

"You say that, but have you looked in the mirror?" I ask as he continues to inspect my hand. Slipping it from his grasp, I gently place it on his uninjured cheek and turn him to face the mirror.

Leo grimaces when he catches sight of his reflection.

"Looks worse than it is."

"Is that a question or statement?"

"Statement?" Leo raises his eyebrow, wincing slightly.

"You're not very convincing."

Shaking my head, I open the cabinet under the sink and pull out a towel, wetting it with warm water. After I've cleaned up the tiny cut on my middle knuckle, I get to work on Leo's face. He's sitting on the toilet with me between his legs. I carefully dab at the abrasion above his lip, pretending I don't feel his hands as they glide up and down the back of my thighs.

"Why didn't you fight back? Defend yourself?" I finally ask, rinsing the blood from the towel.

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