“Nope.”
Since I’ve remained in problem-solving mode, I bypass the many unrelated questions I have and stand to look out the window. “Would the fan site person have a professional-looking camera?” I ask.
“Yes.” He stands, but I wave him back, looking intently out the window like I’m a spy. Out front of the café is a woman with black hair pulled into a low ponytail, two cameras slung around her neck and her phone in her hand.
“Why doesn’t she come in?” I ask.
He looks out the other side, angled to stay hidden. “Good fan sites respect our personal space and privacy. She would think it incredibly rude to intrude.”
I turn to him. “Jihoon, she’s followed you here and is waiting right outside the door to get a photo of you. That’s not respecting your space.”
“She’s not touching me or approaching me. She’s not threatening. She usually only covers appearances on our schedule, so her even being here is unusual.” He bites his lip. “My own fault. It’s been happening more since I came back.”
This is so out of my realm of comprehension that it takes a few moments to try to wrap my head around his reality. “There is a woman outside waiting to take photos of you, and you’re scared to leave because of it. That’s not normal.”
This causes him to burst out laughing. “Of course not, but it’s what my life is. Usually I wouldn’t care, but I want to protect you, Ari.”
I move to next steps. “Do we stay here all night?”
“Eunyoo has a plan. I’ll distract her by going out the front while you leave out the back door for the car. You and Yeong, the driver, can pick me up out front.” He’s confident, and since this is his world and not mine, I have to trust him.
He catches me around the waist before we head downstairs and lifts my chin with one finger. “Did I say how pretty you look today?” he says.
“I’m more than looks.” I sniff theatrically even as I feel my face go red. I forgot how much I love Jihoon’s spontaneous compliments.
He grins. “I haven’t been able to tell you how smart and creative you are for a long time, but I’ll do that soon as well.” He bends to kiss me, his lips slotting in perfectly to mine. For a moment, that’s all I know—his hands on my waist and his kiss. Then Eunyoo calls from the bottom of the stairs, and Jihoon hands me a mask.
To my surprise, his plan works. While I wait downstairs, Jihoon leaves and lingers in the door so anyone waiting in the back alley will leave to follow him. I give Eunyoo a wave and dash out when the car appears, falling into the back seat so dramatically that Yeong stifles a laugh before he guns it and heads around the corner.
The car slows, and I duck down as the door opens. Jihoon jumps in beside me with a cup in his hand.
“Eunyoo thought it was more realistic to come out with a drink,” he says, seeing me look at it. “I think we’re safe. Did you see anyone?”
“No but better ask Yeong.”
Jihoon leans over and has a long discussion that concludes when he turns to me and says, “He didn’t.”
It’s like those subtitled movies where six minutes of dialogue gets translated togood idea.
“Now what?” I peer out the car window to look for other photographers.
“If you don’t mind, Yeong will drop me at practice first. Anyone following us will wait there until I come out later tonight, so he’ll be free to take you to your hotel.”
Anyone following us. I only nod. “Right, but I meant us. What happens now, to us?”
“Ah.” He kisses my hand. “We take it day by day. No plan.”
I do my best to smile, but the thought of no plan makes me nervous. He’s worth the effort of living with my heart, but I don’t know how. I’m years out of practice. Decades, maybe.
“We need to talk,” I say. “About how this is going to work. Logistics.”
“That will be the first thing we do once our special concert is over,” he promises. “I look forward to a deep and sincere discussion.”
“Ah, yeah.” I hope my eyes don’t resemble those of an emotionally stunted deer in the headlights of an overly empathic truck, but Jihoon takes my hand.
“It will be easy,” he soothes. “If you’re honest with me and with yourself.”
“Not helping.”
