or else she’d forget her whole reason for coming here. “I came over because—” She cut off because she couldn’t remember the rest of her carefully cultivated speech.
“Yes, please tell me what you came over for,” Junu said with a grin as he took another step toward her. She took a step back and held up a hand. It stopped him. Thank God. She didn’t know what she’d do if he touched her. She felt like a bundle of live wires, sparking at just the presence of him.
“I came over to discuss what happened.” Somin almost winced. When she wanted to sound more self-assured, she ended up sounding like a kid playing office. But it was too late now.
Junu let out an amused chuckle. “Discuss it? Is that all?”
“Yes, as it seems like we have a misunderstanding about what . . . transpired, I’m glad I came over.” There it was again, a child pretending to be an adult.
“I’m glad you came over, too.” Junu’s grin became a full smile, but it was too wicked to be called friendly.
“Stop it,” Somin said sternly, and Junu finally moved back.
She realized that whenever she told him she didn’t like something, he actually listened to her. As if, when it came down to it, he really did care about her comfort. It was hard to reconcile that with the contemptible flirt and con she’d labeled him as.
“That kiss was . . .” She trailed off again as she latched on to the memory. She didn’t want it to be so fresh in her mind. Or to have a part of her want to try the taste of him again. Like a dessert she knew she shouldn’t eat. One that she should be allergic to. That would probably give her hives.
“Yes?” Junu asked, expectantly watching her with a patient look on his face. It was just a mask, she knew. He was waiting for a good moment to break her resolve.
“It can’t happen again,” she finally said.
“And why is that?” Junu asked pleasantly. Too pleasantly.
“Because we don’t . . . we can’t. It’s just not going to happen . . . it can’t happen again.” She stumbled over words like she was just learning to talk. She couldn’t seem to string a convincing sentence together.
“I see,” Junu said. “Well, I can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. So, if that’s it.” He started back toward the foyer.
Somin couldn’t believe this had been so easy. And she worried that there was still some kind of misunderstanding. She needed to make him understand why the kiss meant less than nothing. It was important he know that. Because she was starting to doubt it herself.
“Hold on.” She grabbed his hand, but she must have yanked a little too hard (she tended to use her strength too much when she was anxious). And the momentum hauled him into her. They would have fallen to the ground if he hadn’t grabbed her arms, somehow keeping their balance for them.
A part of her wanted to shrug out of his embrace. But a stronger part of her wanted to step into it. Somin was a girl who followed her own rules. And her rules strictly forbid her from starting anything with a guy like Junu. But she was also one who took something if she wanted it. And she wanted Junu right now.
So she lifted onto her toes. That alone wouldn’t have reached him; she was so short and he was so tall. But in the same moment, he leaned into her and their lips connected.
They clung to each other, and Somin stumbled back, pulling him with her. Something hard dug into her hip. A clash of sound echoed into the room. She didn’t care as she reached up to loop her hands behind Junu’s neck, to hold him securely to her.
She loved the feel of his mouth on hers. It drove all logical thought out of her mind. It made her feel weightless. And she hadn’t realized how tense she was before until she felt all the pressure leave her temples and her shoulders. She let out a satisfied hum and felt his grin against her lips.
He shifted the kiss to be deeper. They met each other like two hurricanes crashing in the middle of the ocean. Feelings battered into her, but they were too strong and too varied for her to sort through. And she didn’t want to think. She just wanted to experience and