WANTED A FLING BUT IT'S A NIGHT

CHAPTER 5 (CROSSED PATHS)

CHAPTER FIVE

The week rolled on, slow and steady like a drumbeat in Asher’s chest.

Rhett didn’t appear.

Every time Asher stepped into the cafeteria, every time he crossed the main quad or walked past the law faculty building, a part of him hoped to catch a glimpse. A jacket. A stride. A glance.

Nothing.

It was Friday afternoon before it all shifted.

Asher was sitting under the neem tree behind the arts faculty, headphones in, sketching lines in his notepad. His media class had just ended, and Zayn had run off to meet some guy from the film department—no surprises there.

The campus was hot and lazy, the kind of weather that slowed everything down. The kind of day that smelled like dry leaves, paper, and overheated laptops.

He didn’t hear Rhett approach.

He felt it.

A shadow. A shift in the air.

He looked up.

And there he was—Rhett, standing a few steps away, one hand buried in his pocket, the other holding a takeaway cup of something iced.

"You're not dead. Good to know," Rhett said dryly.

Asher pulled off his headphones, his heart doing somersaults. "Hey... um, hi."

Rhett raised an eyebrow. "Hi. That all I get after saving you from a rat rave?"

Asher flushed. "No, I mean—thank you. Seriously. For everything. I’ve been... looking for you. I didn’t even know your name."

"Rhett," he said, taking a sip. "Third year. Law. Not a fan of small talk."

Asher laughed nervously. "Right. I’m Asher. First year. Media and Communication. Not a fan of rats."

A smirk tugged at Rhett’s lips. Just a flicker. But Asher caught it.

"So, you good now?" Rhett asked.

Asher nodded. "Yeah. Still not sleeping great. But Zayn’s around more."

"Cool."

They stood in silence. But it wasn’t awkward. It was strange. Weighted.

Then Rhett said, "I was just passing through. Thought I’d check if you were still alive. You know, after the whole can’t-sleep-alone confession."

Asher tried to smile. "Yeah, I’m good. Thanks again. Really."

Rhett looked at him for a long second. Then handed him the takeaway cup.

"It’s mango iced tea. I hate mango."

Asher blinked. "Why’d you buy it then?"

"Didn’t. Some girl handed it to me after class. Thought it’d be more useful in your hands."

Before Asher could respond, Rhett turned and walked away, hands back in his pockets.

Asher stared after him, heart pounding, fingers wrapped around the cold cup.

He tasted it.

It was sweet. Tangy.

And it stayed on his lips long after Rhett had gone.