The Anti-Fan and the Idol (My Summer in Seoul) - Page 30

Ah-Ri’s eyes widen. I can’t tell if it’s fear of getting caught or curiosity over what happened in those years, but I need to get him away from the room so I can be with her.

I don’t think I realized how much I’ve been missing.

Not until her.

Maybe that was my sister’s last gift. An angel. One I can’t escape and don’t want to. One who’s willing to look at me like she wants to simultaneously strangle and kiss me.

My sister always said that I needed someone who could put up with my shit one minute and then kiss me the next.

I clear my throat. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

“I’m here for you,” he says. “I mean, if you want to talk right now, we can talk or something. I don’t know. Shit—”

“NO!” I yell. “I mean…I’m good, just super tired. So, yeah, let’s talk tomorrow.”

He’s quiet for a minute. “Are you sure? You don’t want to talk? I can come right in and—”

“NOPE!” I say again, too loudly. “I just…I’m naked!”

“You’re already naked? Is that like a line we can’t cross as dudes or something? Because I’ve already seen your dick, I’m not impressed.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP. IT’S IMPRESSIVE!” My voice actually cracks. I want to die.

“Why are you yelling?” He laughs. “I’m just saying, dick is dick.”

“But my dick is big-dick energy!” I say. “Right?”

Ah-Ri’s eyes close, and she starts laughing against my hand.

I’m officially murdering my best friend.

“Errr, okay. I mean, I didn’t look that close. Sometimes small things are hard to see without binoculars, so…sorry.”

“BINOCULARS?” Dead. He’s so dead.

Is he doing this on purpose?

Wait, does he know she’s in here?

Ah-Ri starts laughing against my hand even harder.

Cool, so both of them are dead.

I glare at her.

Her chest heaves from laughter.

What the hell is wrong with the universe? I mean, how does a guy even get it up with two people mocking his size?

“Stop laughing,” I mouth with a glare.

She looks down, and then her fingers toy with my sweatpants. “Tiny?” Her mouth moves against my palm with the word.

“I will murder him,” I say through clenched teeth. “Hope you can bail me out of prison.”

“What was that?” Haneul asks.

“Nothing! Just talking to my tiny dick!” I yell.

He snorts out a laugh. “Cool, all right, see you in the morning, TD.”

“TD?” I ask.

“Tiny Dick.” He laughs harder. “Wow, this is so great. Oh, and good night, Ah-Ri! It’s been fun!”

She freezes and then shoves against me.

I stumble, then still. The looks in our eyes mirror the same horror.

“You guys are the worst at sneaking around,” Haneul says. “Just don’t get caught by the label, all right? Right. Good talk. ‘Night!”

Ah-Ri and I look at each other like: Is this okay? Are we fine now that he knows?—as if he’s our dad or something.

I don’t know who moves first, but Ah-Ri is suddenly in my arms, and I’m spinning her toward the bed and praying to the universe that I have condoms because I need her, I want her, and her body sliding against mine is pretty much torture at this point.

Again, good idea since we’re in the same group? Probably not.

But I can’t stop.

I don’t want to.

Her brown eyes sweep up and down my body and then lock onto mine. “Will we come back from this?”

“If it doesn’t work?” I say. “No. We won’t.”

“So.” She steps back. “Let’s practice then.”

“What?” I’m confused as hell, and my body has no clue how to cool down.

“Practice.” She presses a kiss against my lips. “We have another music video to film, another song to do, so let’s just pretend. For now, we pretend.”

“Pretend?”

“As if we’re actors.” She sounds so convincing. “This is the role we play.”

I let her slide away from me. She grabs her phone and puts on the next song on our mini-album.

It’s a sexier one that we struggled to find the right concept for.

She presses play.

When she starts to dance, I think, I will always look back on this moment. This is where I lost myself.

To her.

To the music.

To us.

She throws her head back and spins, then falls to the floor and rests against it, lifting her hips. My mouth goes dry as she beckons me closer with her fingers, then spins to her stomach and arches her back.

I die.

I swear I see my soul leave my body as I watch hers roll against the floor, and then she’s facing me again and jumping to her feet. “I don’t need you.”

The lyrics blast me.

“Don’t need you.” She repeats in her angelic voice and turns on her heel, then bends over and starts dancing.

It’s not real.

But it is.

I grab her from behind and spin her in my arms. We start dancing, our hands touching as we pull apart.

“Don’t need you,” I sing back. “But want you, want you, want you.”

Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Romance
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