Page 41 of A World Apart
I took the time to check him out, completely unabashedly. Jihoon was easily the least dressed up of anyone there, wearing an oversized black t-shirt and a silver chain − similar to mine, I realized − and several glinting earrings in his ears. He was laughing at something someone opposite him said, and as his eyes darted around, I saw them snag on me. His grin widened further. I didn’t dare wave, but I smiled back.
About half-way through the dinner, I was more and more pleased with the wisdom of lining my stomach before coming out. Not only were the portions artistically small (we were apparently eating a taster menu of half a dozen dishes), but they also refreshed our wine more often than our plates. Looking around at our table, I could tell at least half of them would be calling off work tomorrow. Rookie mistake. I shook my head wryly.
Jihoon and I had snuck glances at each other all evening and instead of being frustrating, it felt playful, like we were sharing a secret. He’d look at me, then over at someone clearly three sheets to the wind and waggle his eyebrows, making melaugh, which I’d have to then either cover as a cough or pretend to be in response to something someone at our table said. I’m sure I had left quite the impression on some of these people, but I didn’t care.
After my third attempt − and failure − at catching the passing waiter’s attention to ask for some water, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
“I’m going to the bar to get some water. Do you want some?” I asked Becka next to me, who was so deep in conversation with the person to her right that she just waved her hand at me. I got to my feet and, looking about, spotting the bar way on the other side of the floor. I made my way over to it, realising as I balanced in my heels that I was slightly more buzzed than I intended to be, but I didn’t stumble once. Which I was quite proud of.
I reached the bar and leaned my hip into it. There was no one manning the bar just then, but I was happy to wait. It was quite nice to stretch my legs after sitting for so long.
Just then, I became aware of a presence behind me. I don’t know if it was the body heat I felt, or the way that the world seemed to fall just a little silent around him, but when I looked over my shoulder, Jihoon was there, standing a handful of feet away from me, hands in his pockets.
“Hello,” he smiled at me.
“Hello,” I replied, suddenly shy.
“Can I get you a drink?” he said, gesturing at the bar.
“Oh, um, I’m just waiting for someone to come back so I can get some water,” I said, looking back at the bar and without thinking, I pulled my hair around over my shoulder, the sudden breeze at my back suddenly reminding me what I was wearing, and what it was not covering.
Jihoon said something in Korean so low I barely heard him, and when I looked back over my shoulder, his eyes were glued to my bare back. I quickly looked back around to hide my smile and suddenly, feeling a bit daring, I moved my forearms up to lean against the bar, flexing my back, hyper aware of every air current, nerves alight for every sensation, including the imaginary one I could feel from his gaze.
Then without warning, Jihoon was up against me, pressing me into the bar, the unexpected contact making me gasp.
“Excuse me, coming through,” a server bustled behind us, carrying a tray so laden with drinks I was surprised he could carry it. “I’ll be right with you,” he called over his shoulder.
But even as the server passed us, Jihoon did not move. He was pressed so closely to me that I felt it every time he breathed. His arms were braced on the bar on either side of me, so instead of pushing against me, he was caging me in, almost protectively.
Slowly, I turned in the circle of his arms, rubbing my bare back against him like a cat, delighting in the feel of his hard, muscular chest hidden under the soft fabric of his baggy t-shirt.
Once I was fully turned to him, our faces were only inches apart. I drew my bottom lip into my mouth as I watched his eyes roving over my face and further down my neck before snapping back up to meet my own inquiring gaze.
As if suddenly remembering where, and perhaps who he was, Jihoon stepped away from me, arms dropping to his sides, sliding one hand into his pocket, the very image of aloofness.
“There’s a roof garden. Do you want to see it with me?” he asked, his tone light and not at all matching the intense darkness of his eyes.
Wordlessly, I nodded and followed him, forgetting all about getting a drink.
Chapter 17
Ismelt the rosemary and mint before I saw the many bushes of both lining the far wall, trellised by thousands of tiny, twinkling lights.
“Wow,” I breathed, “pretty.”
“Yes,” Jihoon replied, but he wasn’t looking at the patio arrangements. I blushed under his stare.
I sniffed suddenly, smelling cigarette smoke. Looking to my right I saw a couple sitting under a patio warmer, their clouds of smoke puffing into the air. They talked too low for me to hear, and I didn’t think they’d seen us yet. I also couldn’t tell if they were from our party or not.
“Over here,” I whispered, and without thinking I clenched my fingers in his t-shirt and directed us both to a spot along the wall farther away from the door and the couple.
There was a lone padded rattan sofa here, but no further furniture. It was clear this was not part of the patio’s main area, which suited me fine, even though it was dark.
Once I was sure we hadn’t been spotted, I looked back around to see Jihoon looking down at where my hand was still fisted in his t-shirt. Embarrassed, I dropped my hand.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
He looked down at me, dark eyes shining in the lights reflected off the glass buildings all around us, expression unfathomable.
