Page 43 of Teach Me K-Pop

The other guys yell various kinds of goodbyes to both of us as we walk toward the exit, Nikko completely ignoring them while I stop to wave and promise I’ll be good to him. Even if I have no idea what we’re actually going to do. There’s a nondescript van waiting outside to take us somewhere, but I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’m not even entirely sure where we could go that wouldn’t draw any attention.

Nikko watches as I glance around, trying to figure out what’s nearby. I don’t come to this part of the city enough to be super familiar with it. “I do not care where we are. I just want to be there with you.”

I almost feel the need to press my hand to my chest, like it’s going to keep my heart in place. I just can’t handle the things he says sometimes. The sincerity and honesty that he expresses so easily are so much. I’ve never had that, but I want to keep it—keephim—so badly. Somehow, my brain recovers enough from his latest devastating declaration to come up with an idea. I grab my phone for a quick search, and I’m happy to see that I was correct—there is a place Tyler has told me about before not too far away that should be perfect, where literally no one is going to notice or care who he is.

I tell the bored-looking van driver the address and he raises an eyebrow. “I was gonna head there after my shift. Guess I’ll go now.”

The fact that it’s his kind of place reassures me. Nikko follows me as I hop in and situates himself so closely that our thighs are touching and the entirety of my focus narrows to the warmth radiating off his body against mine. I’m thankful the security guy seems to want to stay as far away from whatever is going on between us as he possibly can, glancing out the window and staring at the lights.

It’s a short ride to the hole-in-the-wall bar, and as we walk in, not a single person so much as glances our way, all too caught up in the game that is showing on each of the last-decade tvs set up around the dingy room. I can hear Nikko giggling behind me as his feet stick to the floor with each step we take toward the back of the room, where we settle into a darkened booth. Security man takes a seat at the end of the bar, close enough to keep a watch on Nikko, but far enough away he’s not going to hear any of our conversation.

Over the next few hours, we talk about everything and nothing, laughing into our drinks, then stopping to stare at each other like we can’t believe this is really happening. Even as the time passes, it feels like I’m caught in some sort of alternate reality where I can just hang out with him, where he’s solidly in the seat next to me.

Finally, I can’t stand it anymore. Like I need to prove something to myself, I reach over and slip my hand around his. He’s real. This is happening. His fingers slot between mine and stay there as we keep talking, our conversation scattered all over the place, bouncing from one thing to another.

There are moments as I speak that I swear Nikko’s eyes drop to my mouth. More than once, it causes me to stumble over my words as I wonder if he’s thinking about kissing me as often as I am thinking about kissing him. Even when we make eye contact, his gaze is intense, enough to make my heart skip a beat as I try to remember what I was saying.

I have no idea how much time has passed when our chaperone catches our attention and nods toward the door. It looks like he’s taking care of the tab when we walk by, and he follows us out, shaking his head at the van driver from earlier who is now well past tipsy. Nikko thanks him as we get outside onto the sidewalk and asks him if we can step away just a bit.

The man scowls but nods anyway, and Nikko takes my hand again, pulling me around the corner of the building into a narrow not-quite-alley.

“No one even cared I was there,” Nikko marvels. “That was so cool.”

“That’s not entirely true, though. I cared you were there,” I say. Cheesy as it may sound, I’m being honest.

Nikko smiles, but it’s small, almost coy. “I did not notice anyone but you anyway.”

“I can’t really imagine noticing anyone but you ever again.” I’m captivated by the way his eyes hold the light from the streetlamps that barely shine where we’re standing, and I find myself reaching to adjust the brim of his hat so I can see them better. He’s watching me closely, barely breathing as I tuck some of his hair behind his ear after it got messed up from moving his cap.

Nikko looks at me for just a second and swiftly turns his ball cap around backward. There’s one heartbeat of hesitation before he leans in, his hand slipping around my neck to pull me closer.

I gasp, surprised, as his lips meet mine. This isn’t the slow, sweet kiss I’ve been daydreaming about since I first found myself staring at Nikko’s perfect mouth through the computer screen. There’s something needy about it—even in his inexperience, it feels insistent, like this is necessary for his survival. Maybe it is. I think it might be for me. I want this kiss—this moment, this man—more than I want any of my next breaths.

He pulls away just far enough to look at me, to check in. It’s another bold move for him, and as hot as I find his courage, I’m also proud of him, and so deeply pleased he feels comfortable enough with me to do these things. I can’t even let myself ponder what it might mean—if he wants me the way I want him—because this is enough for now. More than enough.

Going in for another kiss, I nip gently at his plush lower lip and he whimpers, chasing after me to close the barely-there distance as soon as it’s created. I don’t resist. Now that I know what it’s like to kiss Nikko, I don’t know how I’ll ever want to do anything else.

“Yeah?” I ask as he whines softly against me. I dip my head to nose along the sharp line of his jaw. He smells good—too good—a little bit of sweat from the show and some kind of cologne, maybe. Whatever it is, it’s sexy.

“Yes,” Nikko breathes, fingers twisting in my shirt to keep me close as he tilts his head, letting me explore.

I can’t stop the groan that escapes when Nikko shivers as I give his earlobe a nibble, careful to avoid his jewelry. His whole body trembles, and my mind is suddenly filled with a thousand ideas of everything I want to do to make him quiver and beg.

Gently, I guide him backward a step or two, until his back is against the brick facade of the building and I know we’re totally hidden in the shadows.

Nikko moans when he makes contact with the wall, his hands sliding around my waist, holding on tightly to me. His grip makes me brave, and I tease him with the tip of my tongue until he opens up in a silent request for more. The sound that escapes his throat as the kiss deepens will stay with me until I die, as will the desperate way he tugs me closer to keep me where he wants me—chest to chest, hip to hip.

I kiss him until I’m dizzy with it—the taste of him too much and still somehow not enough. I break away only when I have to, my hands on either side of Nikko’s face as we both pant into the small space between us. I can feel each shaky breath he takes and the erratic rhythm of my own heart as well as his, pounding against each other. This feels like one of those moments that will define who I am from here on out.

Everything that I think I could ever want is right here, in my arms, staring back at me with those intoxicating, galaxy eyes full of lust and wonder. Nikko is a dream, made of all the best of the things I didn’t know I could even hope for. I bow my head, tipping forward to kiss him again, lush and leisurely, because I can, with Nikko wrapped around me like he has no intentions of letting go.

When I feel him smile against my lips, I’m pleased by the idea that he’s happy right now, right here, with me. That this experience—a first for him—could give him the same kind of giddy excitement I feel bubbling up behind my ribs, dancing around in my chest.

“I wish I could stay with you all night,” Nikko whispers, his voice quiet in the echo of a car rushing by on the street. I’m so surprised by what he said, it takes me a moment to realize it was in Korean.

I know he can’t be out much longer, and despite what parts of my body might be telling me, spending the night together in any kind of sexy way feels like too big of a leap immediately after a first kiss. But that doesn’t mean I won’t think about it the entire drive home.

Brushing my thumb across his cheek, I give him one more kiss, sweet and chaste. I still want to be honest with him as I admit, “I wish you could, too.”

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