My Summer in Seoul - Page 10

Shit. I was murdering my dad.

What was the term?

Patricide?

Happening.

Tears welled in my eyes.

I wanted nothing more than to pull out my iPhone and attempt to type what he’d just said into the app, though I’d most likely spell it all wrong and come up with something like, please serve me fire ants while balancing a machete on your chin.

You can do this Grace. You can do this.

“Ji,” he repeated tersely. “Mok yee mal la yo.”

I gulped.

He just shook his head and made an imaginary motion of tilting his head back and drinking something.

“Thirsty!” I blurted. “You’re thirsty?” I repeated the motion.

Wait, why would I be getting an intern water?

Maybe he was the talent, and the other four were the interns?

I wasn’t here to make friends, but I really didn’t need to make any enemies either.

His nod somehow managed to look arrogant, maybe just for my benefit?

I let out a sigh. “Fine, even though you’re an intern, I’ll go grab you water because I’m going to try to be the bigger person. Maybe this will be a peace offering. Maybe—” I squeezed my eyes shut as his eyebrows shot up to his forehead like he was trying not to judge me—and failing. “Maybe I’ll just stop talking to myself and get right on that.” I turned on my heel and all but sprinted into the kitchen area and quickly opened the huge stainless steel fridge. Everything in the kitchen was shiny and high tech from the stovetop to the microwave; it was almost baffling how different a simple kitchen felt in Korea.

I quickly grabbed a bottle of water, then grabbed a few more—so that I was extending peace offerings to all five of them, not just one—and made my way back into the living room. The guys had all dispersed in the few seconds that I was gone, though my new red-headed friend was on the far side of the couch.

I hurried over to him and held out a water.

He stared at it.

Not for a few seconds—that would be normal.

It was more like one full minute, with my hand out, nearly shaking from the heaviness of the bottle—well, that and nervousness—just waiting for him to take it.

Freaking take it!

Water. Thirst. Was I missing something?

He yawned and then bit out a slow. “Ah ni ya.” His voice was so low, not angry, just… annoyed.

At me.

Perfect.

I didn’t need a translator to know that he’d suddenly decided that he wasn’t thirsty at all, just irritated by my breathing.

The rest of the bottles were in the process of making my shirt wet as I clutched them against my chest like a newborn.

I made a small turn; nobody was looking at me.

I exhaled slowly and started walking back to the kitchen when the one with the gorgeous blond hair blocked my path.

How had I already messed up so badly?

And why were they all so freaking rude?

Slowly, he held out his hand like I was going to bite him, and then he very carefully grabbed the bottle of water. He nodded his head, twisted the cap, then slowly tilted his head back as he drank a few sips.

A drop of water slid down his chin.

I gaped. Eyes wide. Mouth open.

He was superhuman.

All of them were.

What kind of world had I just walked into?

When he was done, he gave me a lazy stare that had me ready to offer him a dopey smile in return. Maybe they were pumping pheromones through the air conditioning?

He didn’t say thank you, but he did wink at me, one solitary wink that had my inner teenager letting out a shrieky squeal. Hot guy noticed us! Yay! Too bad hot guy and all the other hot guys are ridiculously rude. Remember the rudeness, Grace!

I probably looked like the most unintelligent person on the planet. I stared at him like he was an alien from outer space, and then he shook his head, let out a small laugh, and took a step toward me.

There wasn’t much space between us. He seemed extremely amused—either that or pleased over the water.

It couldn’t be me, could it?

“What are you doing?” Solia suddenly appeared out of nowhere; her voice was hushed like they could actually understand her in English.

What was I doing? Getting pregnant? I mean… I snorted out a small laugh; my sarcasm would be lost on her. Besides, she looked ready to strangle me.

Again.

“Sorry.” I cleared my throat as blond-haired wonder sauntered off. “Red hair was thirsty… I think, or maybe he was just telling me I looked thirsty?”

Her eyes widened. “Lucas spoke? To you?”

Red hair, tall? Oh, and rude, yeah definitely too cool of a name for him. “If Lucas has though, it was more of a sign language thing.”

She squeezed her eyes shut like looking at me was physically painful or just all-around irritating. “You won’t be sleeping tonight, between studying and trying to keep them in. I refuse to cancel my meetings just because you don’t know how to babysit.”

Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Romance
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