💌 HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN TEN HATE-TEXTS
CHAPTER 11: THE GHOSTING
PART 4: THE FINAL SHOWDOWN
Rule #6:
No feelings. (Failed.)
I didn’t go
to school on Friday.
Or answer my
phone.
Or change
out of my sweatpants.
My best
friend, Lena, broke into my house with a bag of tacos and a
glare. "Okay, drama queen. Talk."
I pulled my
blanket over my head. "Go away."
"Nope." She yanked the covers
off. "Asher’s been blowing up my phone. The guy’s panicking."
"Good."
"June." She sat on my bed. "Do
you like him?"
I groaned
into my pillow. "I don’t know."
Liar.
The truth?
That kiss ruined me. The way his hands cradled my face like I was
something precious. The soft noise he made when I bit his lip. The way he smelled—like
mint and stupid, expensive cologne.
Ugh.
Lena tossed
me my boots. "Get up. We’re going to the dance."
"Hell
no."
"Hell yes." She smirked. "If
you’re gonna dump his ass, do it publicly."
...
Fine.
CHAPTER
12: THE SHOWDOWN
The gym
was a winter wonderland nightmare.
Fake snow.
Twinkly lights. A giant ice sculpture that looked suspiciously
like a middle finger.
And Asher,
standing near the DJ booth, scanning the crowd like a man possessed.
I turned to
leave—
"Juniper Vega."
His
voice cracked across the room. People stared. My
traitorous heart stuttered.
He
looked wrecked. Hair messy. Tie loose. Dark circles under his eyes.
Good.
"We
need to talk," he
said, stepping closer.
"Nothing
to talk about." I
crossed my arms. "Bet’s over. You won."
"I lost," he growled. "The
second you walked away."
The
music faded. The crowd melted. It was just us,
standing in the middle of a disaster we created.
"You
lied," I
whispered.
"So
did you." His
hand brushed mine. "Tell me you didn’t feel anything in
that closet."
I
swallowed. "It was part of the game."
"Bullshit." He stepped closer. "You
kissed me like you meant it."
"I
kiss everyone like that."
He
laughed—sharp and disbelieving. "Liar."
Then
he cupped my face and kissed me.
For real
this time.
No audience.
No dare. Just Asher Cole, kissing me like I was oxygen and he’d
been drowning.
And God
help me—I kissed him back.
The
gym erupted. Whistles. Cheers. Someone yelled, "ABOUT
DAMN TIME!"
I pulled
away, gasping. "You’re such an idiot."
He rested
his forehead against mine. "Your idiot."
Ugh.
I was so
screwed.
CHAPTER
13: THE TRUTH
We hid on
the rooftop—away from prying eyes.
"So," I said, kicking a pebble. "When
did you know?"
"Know
what?"
"That
you... you know."
He
smirked. "When you threatened to duct-tape me to a bus. Kinky."
I shoved
him. "Be serious."
"Fine." He caught my hand. "That
day in the cafeteria. When you bit the fry."
"That’s it?"
"You
looked feral." He grinned. "I was obsessed."
I rolled my
eyes. "You’re ridiculous."
"And
you’re stuck with me." He pressed a kiss to my knuckles. "Deal?"
I
sighed. "Deal."
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