“A little moment of gay panic will do that to you,” Jase jokes, but his expression is understanding, like he’s trying to make this as easy for me as he can.
I twirl the noodles around the bowl, watching the seaweed flakes break apart. “I’m not gay, though?”
“But you are indeed panicking over your feelings about another man, yeah?” he questions.
When he puts it that way, I don’t know how to respond. Instead I take a bite, slurping on the chewy noodles far longer than necessary, before giving him the tiniest of nods.
“Don’t worry, I caught that,” he tells me with a hint of a smile. “I know it’s not the same because I’ve always liked boys. I honestly don’t ever remember looking at girls with any sort of interest. But there’s still that moment of, ‘Oh god, what does this mean for me?’And it’s scary no matter when it happens.”
“I don’t understand it,” I finally admit. “I’ve had too much time to think about it on my own, and it’s like I’m going in circles. I know he’s into me. I’ve known that for a long time, but I didn’t expect him to just show up one day and put it out there. Or to come back and remind me that he was mine for the taking. And now I can’t stop wondering. I left a date with a woman—an unhinged woman, but still a woman—and I wasdriving around thinking it probably isn’t that different to kiss a guy? Lips are lips, right?”
“I assume so? Again, never kissed a girl, but it seems legit,” he says, then adds, “And Yung-Sun’s got really nice lips.”
I groan, because he’s right. Those bee-stung lips have haunted my thoughts—along with that fucking beauty mark—and all the other little details I didn’t realize I was fixated on until I couldn’t get them out of my head. “What am I going to do?”
Jase looks at me, intensely, right in the eyes. “What do youwantto do?”
“I don’t know,” I hear myself saying.
“You’re a liar, Kim Kija,” he says, sounding entirely too familiar.
My gaze moves somewhere over his shoulder, settling on a faded scroll of a dragon that is not at all leafy. I can’t look at him while I ask, “Am I crazy if I say I want to see what happens?”
Jase stands up and leans over the table, nearly dipping the hem of his shirt in both of our bowls. “I’m so fucking proud of you,” he tells me, pulling me into the world’s most uncoordinated hug.
I have to laugh, though, because it’s just the kind of response I needed. I have no idea what I’m about to do, but at least I know I’ve got support.
???
I am grateful for both Jase and Nikko’s involvement in my life and what might be a new relationship of some kind. But it’s also a little odd to have them help arrange secret get-togethers by passing messages like we’re all back in middle school.
When I mentioned needing to find a way to talk to Yung-Sun in non-company-related territory, it had taken all of fortyseconds for Jase to message Nikko, who was apparently with Yung-Sun, and arrange for him to be at my apartment around midnight.
I don’t know how he’s sneaking out of RYSING’s shared housing nor how he intends to get from there to here, but I got the impression that this is not the first time he’s been on an incognito nighttime escapade. I did not ask for nor do I want details, because plausible deniability is only going to help both of us.
I can’t remember the last time I felt this nervous about something. It should be fine. I should be calm. I have no reason to be trying not to sweat as I hover awkwardly on the arm of this chair still dressed from work. I can practically hear Jase laughing at me, sitting so stiffly while I try to be the picture of ease and unbotheredness.
The fact that I’m not sets me even more on edge. By nature, my personality is pretty even-tempered. It’s one of the things that makes me good at my job, able to succeed in the stress of this highly unpredictable industry.
But here I am, my heart trying to tie itself into knots as I wait. There’s something about Yung-Sun that is vastly different from anyone I have ever encountered. I don’t understand the way I think about him. How he’s gotten under my skin. Or why I’ve entertained any of the thoughts I’ve had about him late at night. Or any other time he’s crept into my mind, completely unbidden. Just lurking, waiting for me to have a moment of weakness and let my guard down.
I’m startled by the knock at the door and realize Nikko—courtesy of Jase, surely—must have told him how to get into the building. My hand may be trembling a little as I reach for the handle and pull it toward me.
The energy in the room totally shifts as he walks in, like everything is electrified now. This one person—his stature slight compared to my own—has such a powerful aura, I’d almost believe it could make my knees weak.
He’s looking around, eyes darting from one corner to another as he takes in the space I call my home. I follow him helplessly, like I have to—like I’m compelled by his presence. I watch as he inspects everything, letting my eyes roam over him in the same way. Cataloging. Memorizing.
I work with idols every day, but I have never seen anyone who looks quite like he does, and I’m taken aback by it every time, now that I’ve noticed.
He’s beautiful.
I’d have never used that word to describe a man before him, but he is. Delicate features, but a strong jawline. Hair that’s always perfectly styled even when it’s not, and clothes that seem to have been made specifically for him, no matter what he’s got on. He’s in soft pants and a sweater that’s probably cashmere, hanging perfectly to expose his collarbones.
Since when are collarbones sexy?
He smiles. My stomach swoops, threatening to knock me off balance as he comes closer, eliminating the distance and any illusion of boundaries between us.
“Sun…” I gasp, his full name apparently too much for me currently. I take a step back, like that will help. It doesn’t. He’s close enough that I can imagine the warmth of his body. I can smell a hint of sweetly-scented perfume, and my throat goes dry.
