Part 3I’m Done Pampering Him, Time to Get Rich

I woke up the next day, took another painkiller, and felt some of the bone-deep weariness from the past few weeks begin to fade.

I picked up my phone, my thumb hovering over Asher's contact photo.

A pang of regret hit me.

I knew he was just lashing out, and I had let myself get dragged into his childish game.

It was so immature of me, bickering with a guy three years my junior.

I carefully typed out a message:

“I’m sorry. I know how long you’ve been looking forward to the festival, but I just wasn’t feeling well at all.”

“If it was a concert, I could at least sit down, but a festival means standing for hours. I couldn’t have lasted. I’m so sorry.”

“I saw the festival is on for three days. My company gave me a week off after my trip, so how about I go with you tomorrow…”

I hit send. A second later, a bright red exclamation point appeared next to my message.

I stared at it, stunned.

Oh, right. I’d forgotten. After every fight, he blocked me.

Just then, my phone rang. It was Asher’s roommate.

“Dude, what did you do to Asher now? His face is so grim it’s put a damn freeze on our entire dorm room. No one’s daring to even breathe.”

Asher’s roommate never really liked me.

Before we got together, girls vying for Asher’s attention would constantly bring them snacks and drinks, hoping they'd pass along his number.

After Asher and I went public, all that stopped.

“Do you have any idea how many girls at this school are after Asher? There are tons of them, all younger than you. You playing hard to get is just laughable. If you don’t apologize soon, you’re just waiting for someone to steal him from you.”

He sent me a screenshot.

It was a picture Asher had posted to his story a little while ago.

The background was the music festival. A gorgeous, fiery girl was practically hanging off his arm.

They were both grinning at the camera, their laughter as wild and free as the massive crowd behind them.

I recognized the girl. Sienna, a freshman who’d become famous for her looks during orientation week.

She’d fallen for Asher at first sight and had been chasing him relentlessly ever since.

Just like Asher had chased me, back when he was a freshman.

“It’s someone’s birthday this week. Sienna and Asher are both going to be there.”

He sent me a time and an address, followed by a warning:

“You’d better apologize, and fast. When Asher gets like this, he’ll really break up with you. You’re already lucky he’s with an older woman, don’t act like some little girl who needs to be coddled.”

The familiar way he said her name, Sienna, didn’t escape me.

It suddenly clicked why he was calling me.

He didn’t want me and Asher to make up because he was a good guy trying to mediate.

He just didn’t want Sienna to get her claws into Asher.

Plenty of guys were after Sienna, just as many girls were after Asher.