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I step back, the flesh on my lips sticking a little as I do. I’ve just run into Woon’s perfectly arched collarbone. How can I look into his face?
This did not happen. I’m going to pretend it didn’t happen.
He’s not moving, and I can only imagine what he’s thinking. I’m going to have to apologize. It’s one thing to see pictures online, it’s another to feel his body warmth and smell the soap he just showered with.
He has a towel draped over his shoulder, sweat pants covering his lower half. Either Blain knew his size, or Woon looks good in anything. I’m guessing it’s the latter.
I force my eyes to travel from his perfectly sculpted chest up to his face. What I find there isn’t what I was expecting. He has a wicked grin and an evil gleam in his eyes.
Forgetting all about my apology, I shove him. “What are you doing standing outside a girl’s room?”
Shoving was a mistake, because now I’ve felt his exposed abs. Geeze, he might as well call me a perv.
I close my eyes and ball my fists, backing up.
“Maybe you should get dressed,” I hear Blain say behind me. “There’s one more thing Jenica and I need to discuss.”
“Wait,” he calls, and I open my eyes to see he’s still smiling. “I couldn’t find a shirt.”
Blain starts looking around her. “Are you sure...” She grabs a plastic bag off her bed and riffles inside. “Sorry about that,” she says, shoving the shirt in his grip and the door in his face.
I don’t remember sitting, but here I am, sunk into my bed. I’m awkward enough without accidently kissing his chest. Holy crap, I kissed his chest! I might die from embarrassment.
Blain shakes me. “Get yourself together, Woman!”
“You were right,” I say, my breathing short and fast. “I shouldn’t have let him stay. This is very bad.”
“No,” Blain says, pulling me to my feet. “It’s not.”
I collapse on her. “Yes, it is. Did you see his face? He thinks I’m totally inept. Maybe I am.”
Blain pulls me off her and moves her head so I’m forced to see her face. “You’re the smartest girl I know, and it’s his fault for listening outside our door without knocking.”
Was he really listening to us? What did I say? I start for the door, but Blain grabs my shirt and wheels me around until I’m sitting on the bed again. “Calm down, okay? We’re not done talking.”
I’m sand falling through an hourglass. No matter how I wish I could turn myself around, I can’t. Gravity has complete hold, making it impossible to change what just happened.
“Will you wake up?” Blain says right in front of me.
I fall into my pillow wishing I could scream, but knowing Woon would hear me.
“It’s going to be fine,” Blain coos, rubbing my back. “Why don’t you forget about your homework and get ready instead? I bought us lunch already, so you don’t have to worry about cooking.”
Lunch? I didn’t think I had slept that late. I pick up my phone and gasp. It’s already three. How did I not notice when I was looking at Blain’s picture earlier?
“All right,” Blain amends. “An early dinner.”
“But he’s coming tonight,” I say, butterflies flaring up.
Blain juts her chin forward. “Who’s coming tonight?”
I lie down again, this time on my back. “I don’t know. One of Woon’s groupmates.”
“Members,” Blain corrects. She’s gone from red to completely pale.
“You don’t think...” I say, wondering if it’s this G.O. person.
She shrugs. “There are five other guys besides those two. What are the chances?”
“One in six,” I say.
Blain runs her hands through her hair. “Those are good odds.”
I have to stop panicking and start acting. If another member of his group is almost here, I don’t have much time left. Woon wants me to help him, and I still haven’t agreed. If I do, does that mean he gets to stay until Tuesday? And if he stays, what does that mean for me? Am I going to put my studying on hold and ruin my semester abroad?
There are too many questions without answers.
“I’m going to shower,” I say. “You keep Woon occupied, and don’t let him go anywhere.”
Blain barely acknowledges, still a zombie on my bed.
I want to get ready fast so I can have more time with Woon, but I also want to look hot. If that’s possible. I decide to skip washing my hair so I don’t have to blow-dry. Thank goodness for dry shampoo.
Curling is a must, however, as is makeup. I keep glancing at the time, trying to make myself go faster, but beauty is a process. I pick out my favorite graphic tee and my skinniest jeans, topping off the look with my black Converse.
When I emerge, the T.V. is on. Blain is totally unfocused, but Woon is laughing his head off. There’s a scattering of orange peels around him and I notice he’s gone through half a bowl of Mandarins.
Blain must’ve bought his shirt too small, because I can’t unsee what’s underneath. Did she have to get white?
This is going to be okay. We’re both adults, and we both have voices. We can work this out.
“Hey,” I say to Woon, trying to act cool by leaning against the wall. Instead, I miss the wall by half an inch and stumble forward. I stand straight and clear my throat, shoving my thumbs in my back pockets. “Whatcha doin’?”
Woon glances at me and drops his orange. It rolls under the coffee table, but he doesn’t bother to pick it up. He clears his throat, his focus turning back to the T.V., then to me, then back to the T.V.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Um,” he says, blinking rapidly. “I’m just watching this show.”
His back is stiff, hands on his knees. Do I really look that bad?
“Oh good,” Blain says. “You’re out of the bathroom.”
I’ve never seen her so out-of-it. She nudges me as she passes by to enter the bathroom, totally unaware of what she’s doing.
“What’s with her?” I say, taking her place on the couch next to Woon.
Woon steadies his breathing, still not looking my direction. “I don’t know.”
Dang, that chest kiss was probably the worst thing that could’ve happened. Woon is leaving soon, and now he won’t even talk to me. Maybe it’s good. I can get over him faster.
I stand and make my way to the kitchen, bending over to look in the fridge. I’m starving. “Hey,” I call. “Blain said she bought some food, do you know—?”
My words fall short when I turn around to look at Woon. He eyes are wide. Was he looking at my backside? He quickly pulls his knees up to his chest and buries his face like that will hide him.
“Never mind,” I say turning back around. “I’ll find it.”
There’s an unopened take-out box on the counter, noodles inside. I flip it open and find the chopsticks, shoving the drawer closed with my hip.
My gaze falls on Woon, who’s back to playing the part of a two-by-four. The orange he dropped is still under the table. It doesn’t look like he’s enjoying his show, so I’m not sure why he’s still watching it.
I turn my back to him and try to forget it. Curse my shyness, or else I’d think of something to say. I eat the noodles quickly hoping it will calm the nerves in my tummy.
The only reason I can see for acting this way is because he’s leaving. Maybe last night some of the energy from the chase was still in him, but now that he’s rested and cleaned up, he’s come to his senses enough to realize he never should’ve associated with a pion like me.
Accidently kissing his chest was the cherry on top of the weirdo sundae.
I have to fix it. It’s not in my personality to confront, but this is a desperate time.
I slam down my chopsticks and spin around. “Look,” I say, drawing his attention to me. “I didn’t mean to do that. Don’t think I meant anything by it.”
He’s still not making eye contact with me, his gaze somewhere above my head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Great, do I have to spell it out? I plop on the couch next to him, hugging the same pillow I did last night. I can see his breathing speed up as I sit. His eyes are darting around until they land on the T.V. again.
My fingernail digs into the button on the remote as I turn it off. There, now he has to pay attention to me.
“I didn’t mean to kiss you, or to touch your abs,” I say, the words strained. “I’m sorry.”
His Adam’s apple moves up and down his neck as he swallows. His fingers are tapping his knees now, and he still won’t turn my way. “It’s fine,” he says, but his sincerity is lacking.
“Look,” I say, “I know you’re way out of my league. Honestly, I wasn’t trying to make a move on you.”
He blinks, looking at me for the first time. “What are you talking about?”
“You know, that...incident.” I move my hands as I speak as if that will make the point clear.
“And what incident is that?”
Now he’s just playing with me.
“I mean,” I start, scratching my head. Since he’s not going to get it unless I’m direct, I might as well be honest. “It’s not like I don’t enjoy flirting with you, but I didn’t mean to kiss your chest.”
“Hold up,” he says, looking like he’s holding back a laugh. “What did you say?”
He should know he doesn’t have to pretend for me. “You’re a big shot celebrity, and I’m a nobody so you’re not talking to me because of everything that’s hap—”
The pillow rips as he tears it from my grip. He leans over me so I’m forced to lie down, one veined arm planted on the edge of the couch and the other over my head.
Holy mother. Does he not know how dangerous this is? He’s not touching me anywhere, but he might as well be running his hands over me for the trouble he’s causing. Every part of my system is on high alert—blood pumping, nerves rippling, breath coming out short.
All I can focus on are his perfect plump lips and his strong jaw. He dips down, his face so close I can taste the oranges he was just eating.
“Whoa,” Blain says from somewhere near the hall.
I slide out from under Woon, my cheeks burning.
He sits up like nothing happened. I swear if this is a joke.
Blain laughs. “Guess I can’t leave you two unattended anymore.”
I shoot her a death glare. She has no idea what just happened. I don’t even know myself. It’s all so confusing.
I’m about to get mad at her when I notice her appearance. She’s wearing a baseball cap over the purplish part of her hair, only exposing the blonde underneath. I don’t think I’ve seen her in ordinary jeans, and wait, is that...a cardigan?
There has to be an explanation for this. I didn’t know Blain had these things in her wardrobe.
I try to prod by making faces and hoping she guesses my thoughts, but she crosses her arms and shakes her head like now isn’t the time. I want to drag her back to our room so we can talk, but at that moment the doorbell rings.
My gaze instantly lands on Woon. The only person we’re expecting is the other member of his group. My time is up, and I’ve done nothing with it.
“I’ll get that,” Blain says, putting on her fakest smile.
Woon still won’t look at me, and I have no idea what to say to him anymore. So, I ignore him, following Blain to the door. She looks through the peep-hole, and then straightens her sweater and adjusts her cap.
Blain’s appearance is suddenly explained. It must be G.O. behind that door. That fanfic really got to her. No wonder she was so dazed when I entered the living room.
The doorbell rings again, and I see Blain’s hand hesitating on the knob.
A body presses into my back; Woon’s leaning over me to open the door. Does he have no sense of personal space? As if I wasn’t already dizzy.
It takes all my effort to focus on the person beyond the door, but I do. I barely see G.O.’s face when I hear him say, “We need to go, I’ve been followed.”
