He Deleted My Number After 972 Messages of Love Chapter 02

He Deleted My Number After 972 Messages of Love Chapter 02

The restaurant was only a short walk from my house.

I wandered home slowly, replaying those nine hundred and seventy-two “I like you” texts in my head.

Two of those messages were sent shortly after we started dating.

The other nine hundred and seventy were all sent on that same single day.

Back then, I had no idea our whole relationship was only based on a bet, a bet he’d made with Chloe Bennett.

They had been childhood best friends for years, and Jesse had asked Chloe out and confessed his love to her many times.

But Chloe worried that Jesse’s good looks attracted too much attention from other girls, which made her feel insecure.

So half a year earlier, when Jesse worked up the nerve to ask her out yet again, she’d casually pointed straight at me—the quiet, invisible girl flying under everyone’s radar in class.

“Would you date some random girl for three months for my sake? You’re not allowed to catch actual feels for her along the way, and you have to break up with her right when the three months end.”

“If you can do that, I’ll go out with you.”

On the night Jesse got blackout drunk, we’d already been dating for more than two months.

His friend Noah Reed sat at the table scrolling short videos, scoffing as he said, “Who still believes in silly stuff like this in this day and age?”

“Look at this viral trend: if you send your crush nine hundred and ninety-nine ‘I like you’ texts within fifteen minutes, you’ll end up dating them.”

Jesse gave my palm a light squeeze and took another sip of beer, seeming uninterested in that silly trend.

But once we walked out of the restaurant, he squatted down alone on the curb, tapping rapidly on his phone screen.

No one could get him to stand up.

One “I like you” message kept popping up after another on my phone, and I felt a little helpless.

I knelt down next to him and tried to talk him into leaving.

“C’mon, let’s head home, okay?”

“It’s gotten colder tonight. If you stay out in this wind, you’re going to catch a cold.”

“Why are you buying into such a childish trend anyway?

“We’re already dating.”

The glow of his phone lit up his features as he stayed laser-focused on typing, his fingers never slowing.

“Sadie, I’m gonna fire off all nine hundred ninety-nine texts in fifteen minutes flat.”

“Once I’m done, we scrap the stupid bet, and we’re officially a real couple. Sound good?”

I was just about to ask what this bet was all about when a woman’s voice came from behind us.

“What are you two doing out here?”

For over ten minutes, nobody could get him to stop. But the moment Chloe spoke, he deleted the half-typed message and put his phone away.

Chloe stepped closer, her gaze flicking back and forth between Jesse and me.

“Oh great, Jesse’s just throwing a drunken fit out here.”

“Nobody’s been able to get him to move an inch.”

“Perfect timing you showed up—you’ve known him your whole life, wanna try talking some sense into him?”

Jesse locked his phone screen, snuffing out the faint reflection in his pupils along with it.

He stood up, his eyelashes drooping low.

“I’m sober now.”

He subtly pulled away before I could link my arm through his, then said quietly, “Let’s go.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

After that night, Jesse never mentioned those nine hundred and seventy “I like you” messages again, acting as if nothing had ever happened.

Two weeks later, Jesse broke up with me on my birthday and told me everything about the bet.

I slapped him hard across the face.

He did not react at all, wearing that infuriatingly unapologetic look as he said flatly, “Hit me as many times as you need to get it off your chest. Then we’re square, no more bad blood between us.”