Page 21 of A World Apart (Between Worlds #1)
M y alarm went off, almost unnecessarily, as I’d barely slept.
Dozing, my mum would have called it . I knew the second we got home, and I got ready for bed that I wouldn’t be able to sleep.
My mind had raced, replaying our kiss countless times, and I’d wavered between joy and anxiety, making sleep impossible.
I sighed as I got up, knowing I’d probably catch grief for calling off work, but I didn’t care enough to reconsider. I ‘pffed’ to myself just thinking about it, as if.
I shuffled from my bedroom into the lounge as I dialled Jeremy’s mobile number, knowing full well he wouldn’t pick up at this time in the morning.
“Hi Jeremy, I’m really sorry to do this to you, but I’m not feeling well enough to come in today. I’ve got a banging migraine, and I need to take the day to rest up. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I hung up and turned to see Becka standing in her bedroom doorway, black makeup smeared across her eyes.
“You look fresh,” I quipped.
“You’re playing hooky?” she yawned, running a hand down her face and smearing last night’s makeup even further down her cheeks .
“Yes.” I walked over to the coffee pot and began to prepare a fresh pot. “Want one?” I asked over my shoulder.
“Desperately,” she croaked, “but after my shower. Why are my toes muddy?”
“You refused to wear your shoes when we got home and said you wanted to feel the grass on your feet.” I rummaged through the cupboard for a coffee filter.
“They’re still in the bag on the counter,” Becka said, “what grass?”
I turned around and looked through the unpacked grocery bag, finding the pack of filters. “Thanks. The grass outside on the sidewalk, the bit with the tree.”
“That’s where Jose takes Milo to do his business!” Becka wailed, and I cackled. Jose was our downstairs neighbour, and Milo was his very sweet, very geriatric chihuahua.
Becka ran to the shower, hot-stepping like she was jumping on stones, and I laughed as I prepared the coffee.
By the time Becka was out of the shower, wrapped in a towel and drying her hair on another, I was sat at the counter, drinking a coffee and eating buttered toast.
“If you’re staying home today, you can clean these floors,” she grumbled, pouring herself a coffee.
“Can’t. I won’t be here.”
Becka slowly spun around like a turnstile mannequin to face me. “Whhyyy...” she said, drawing out the word, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
I finished my bite of toast before I answered her, deciding honesty was best. “Because I’m spending the day with Jihoon before he flies home tomorrow.”
I watched Becka’s face as it slackened, her mouth falling open. She put her coffee down and took the seat next to me.
“Babes, are you sure this is a good idea?”
“No,” I said honestly, “but it’s what I want.”
Becka regarded me plainly for so long I felt the need to fill the silence with something other than the sound of crunching toast.
“Okay,” she finally said, taking a sip of coffee.
“Okay?”
“Okay,” she repeated. “Ky, you’re a grown-ass adult and I’m not your mother-”
“Thank God,” we chimed in unison and shared a grin at the years-old joke .
“If this is what you want, who the hell am I to tell you not to?”
I finished my toast and wiped my hands down my pyjama bottoms. “I appreciate that, thank you.”
“But I reserve the right to tell you ‘I told you so’ when you come home crying about it!” She waggled her finger at me, but there was no ice in her tone.
Becka stood up and took a few gulps of her coffee before dumping it in the sink and walking back to her bedroom.
“What are you both going to do today, anyway?” she threw over her shoulder.
I thought for a few moments before realising I had absolutely no idea. We hadn’t spoken about it.
“I have no idea,” I laughed.
“I’m rolling my eyes at you,” Becka called from her room.
“Yeah, me too,” I said to myself as I pulled out my phone. There was one new message, sent about half an hour ago.
Joon
Good morning
[Sent 06:23]
Me
Good morning. Sleep well?
Joon
no, lol. You?
[Sent 06:51]
Me
Not even slightly.
While I waited for a reply, I pottered around the kitchen, tidying things away, running possible outfits choices through my head.
Joon
What do you want to do today?
[Sent 06:55]
Me
It’s your day off, what would YOU like to do?
Joon
I don’t know the city. Can you show me?
[Sent 06:58]
I put my phone down as I undressed and turned the shower on.
Me
I’ll think about what we can do together.
I’d just put my phone down when it dinged with a new message and unable to resist the urge, I opened the message before getting into the shower, feeling a sudden heat that had nothing to do with the steam pouring out of the cubicle.
Joon
I think about that a lot.
[Sent 07:01]
I groaned and put my phone face down, stepping under the pouring water and immediately adjusting the heat to cool it down.
The pounding water gave me the clarity I needed to run through our options for the day.
I immediately discounted actually strolling through downtown LA because while GVibes was still relatively unknown in the eyes of American media, they had a very large and loyal fan following, and all it took was one person recognising him and posting it on-line. And then, boom. Disaster.
One ‘nearly-everything’ shower later, I was just drying my hair, the plan beginning to formulate in my head when my phone chimed. I draped the towel around my neck and picked it up to see one new message notification.
Joon
was that too much?
[Sent 07:27]
I frowned and opened the bathroom door, the steam wafting out into the hallway as I padded to my room.
Me
too much?
Joon
did I come on too strong? You didn’t answer.
[Sent 07:30]
Sudden realisation had me crooning, ‘aww’, out loud.
“What, ‘aww’?” Becka popped her head around my door, making me squeal and grab for my fallen towel.
“Babes, I’ve seen it all before,” she waved my modesty away, “what’s so cute?”
Fixing my towel back around myself, I thrust the phone at her, and then immediately felt weird for sharing a personal text exchange. Which was weird in itself, as Becka and I always compared notes.
“Awww,” she crooned, passing me back the phone, “he thinks he’s being sexually aggressive,” she pressed a hand to her heart.
“I know, right? I think they’re just a lot more reserved in Korea. That probably is sexually aggressive to him,” I pondered aloud .
“You could really freak him out and tell him you’re a virgin, really make him feel like a corrupting influence,” she laughed.
I snorted and waved her back out of my room so I could get dressed without an audience.
I still hadn’t told her about the kiss last night. I wanted to keep it to myself for a while longer, at least until after he was gone. Dissecting it felt too much like making the illusion a reality and right now, I wanted to live in the dream.
Me
sorry, I was in the shower, that’s why I didn’t reply.
I had started to really appreciate how upfront he was. There was no ambiguity, no game play. It was… unexpected.
Joon
and now I feel super needy lol
[Sent 07:36]
Me
if it helps, I feel like that most of the time
Joon
it helps.
[Sent 07:37]
I pulled on a pair of denim shorts and a white shirt, the outfit I’d decided on during my shower that would work best for what I was thinking we could do.
I had just finished blow-drying my hair when Becka shouted through my closed door that she was going to work. I shouted back that I’d see her later and started on my makeup, my usual blend of very minimal products.
Ten minutes later, I was ready.
Me
I think I know what we can do today.
His reply was nearly instant.
Joon
Have breakfast with me first and then you can tell me.
[Sent 08:21]
Me
Breakfast sounds great. Where?
Joon
my hotel?
[Sent 08:22]
I knew it was a sensible, no fuss suggestion, and it made sense. Hell, the location was probably as private as it got, but it still made my stomach flip to think about meeting him in his hotel.
Me
Send me the address.
Forty-five minutes later, my Uber pulled up in front of a skyscraper, the towering 'I' symbol of the Intercontinental Hotel prominently displayed high above, visible from miles away.
"Intercontinental Hotel, Wilshire Boulevard," the driver announced.
"Thanks," I murmured, sliding out of the car while craning my neck to take in the imposing structure. As I walked toward the entrance, I couldn't help but feel under-dressed ? an impression that the doorman seemed to share, though he was polite enough not to say anything as he held the door open.
The ground floor was nothing short of palatial. It was vast ? so expansive that a few laps around it might get a person well on their way to reaching that golden 10,000 daily steps.
“Miss Kaiya,” a voice politely halted me in my tracks, and I looked around for the speaker. Eun, Jihoon’s body-guard walked towards me from where he seemed to have been stationed close to the doors and I breathed a sigh of relief that I wouldn’t have to try to navigate this place by myself.
“Good morning,” I nodded at him politely, which he returned with a brief smile .
“Good morning. Baek Jihoon-nim has asked me to take you to his room for breakfast.” Eun’s voice was heavily accented, but his language was excellent, like Jihoon’s. I think this was the first time I’d actually heard him speak.
“Okay,” I smiled, but he just turned around and walked away, presumably thinking I’d follow. I hurried to catch up, the man’s legs were like stilts.
The elevator we rode ascended so quickly that my ears popped, the numbers on the little screen racing past so fast that when the doors opened, I had no idea what floor we were on, but I followed Eun like the obedient puppy I felt like.