My Summer in Seoul

Could I count those tears as mine?

Was I that selfish?

“You were out late.” My voice was gravelly to my own ears, strained. “With Rae?”

She sighed and walked farther into the room, her fingertips dancing across the black baby grand. She looked cute in her matching sweats, and thank God the girl was wearing slippers, not sneakers.

I wanted to laugh.

I kept it in, just like the tears.

Wasn’t it just easier that way?

Save the emotion for the stage, for the fans.

Besides, tomorrow the press release was coming out with the apology, the truth, and the announcement that I wouldn’t be taking a hiatus.

I should be happy, but I knew there would still be people who didn’t believe me, and it hurt. It hurt when I gave the fans my soul… that they’d take something so precious and still inflict damage.

“He needed toothpaste.” She stopped walking when she reached the piano bench where I sat.

I scooted over. “Sit.”

“Wow, toothpaste with Rae, and you’re letting me into your bat cave, must be my lucky day.” She wrung her hands in her lap after she sat.

Did I really make her that nervous?

I winced when I thought back on how I’d treated her.

Yeah, I was surprised she wasn’t trying to shove the piano on top of my body just to hear me scream.

“Bat cave,” I repeated with a smirk. “It has a nice ring to it.”

“You could make shirts.” She offered. “With adorable little capes so you feel like a big bad superhero…”

“I already have a cape,” I teased.

“Oh?” She went along with it.

“Yeah, I keep it in my closet, just in case.”

“Good to know.” Her smile was so damn warm and friendly, like she didn’t care that it was almost too big when she laughed. She didn’t worry about her reactions at all; she just… reacted.

I cleared my throat. “Do you play?”

“Piano?” Her fingers rested against one key then another without pressing down. “When I was little, my dad forced me to take lessons for five years, but all I remember is the stupid theme song from Titanic and chopsticks.”

“Titanic? Really?”

“My teacher had a thing for Leonardo Di Caprio.” She bit down on her plump lower lip, sucking it between her teeth. “I played it for my recital.”

“I want to hear it.”

“Absolutely not.” She elbowed me playfully. “You’ll have to earn Celine Dion.”

“I take it”—I pressed down on middle C and toyed around with a melody—“I’m a long way from earning it?”

“He’s not as dumb as he looks,” she said under her breath.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted, pulling my hand back from the keys. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. At first, I was just annoyed at how invasive it was that you were here, and then you just said the craziest things, and I knew if you knew we understood what you said, you’d stop. Need I remind you, you offered to build a castle out of tooth pics.”

She groaned into her hands. “Let’s forget that.”

“And you brought your own colored pencils.”

“Luuuuuuucasssss…” She drew out my name in warning.

“What was the other suggestion—”

She clapped a hand over my mouth.

Both of us froze at the contact.

Blood roared in my ears as my adrenaline spiked at her touch, at the faint smell of lemons and coconut on her skin.

Our faces were inches apart.

Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips.

Before I knew what I was even doing, I leaned in and pressed my mouth to hers; I’d officially lost it.

She had her own gravitational pull, though, and I was lost, so lost, that I just wanted.

I wanted.

I wanted selfishness.

I wanted to touch her.

Our lips broke apart quickly, the kiss lasting maybe two seconds before her eyes darted to my mouth then back up again in question.

I didn’t give her time to ask what I was thinking because I knew I wouldn’t have an answer for her. Our mouths met again, this time her lips parted, her tongue sliding against my lower lip.

My body jerked in surprise; my hands moved, diving into her hair, holding her there. She deepened the kiss before I could.

My brain was completely misfiring at the moment. All I could taste was sunshine.

And all I kept thinking was more.

More warmth.

More of this.

One of her hands snaked around my neck. Chest heaving, I pressed her against the piano, holding her captive, dying with each caress of her tongue against mine.

This wasn’t me.

And yet it was.

Maybe this was the me I’d always kept hidden, the one that wanted to rebel against every rule, the one that wanted… and took.

Her head fell back as my lips slid down her neck on instinct. My shaking hand followed, caressing the goosebumps on her skin.

I leaned in to kiss her again when we both heard footsteps. I jerked back before she could knock her head against mine, and then we were both sitting at the piano bench as if nothing had happened.