Lake (Trinity Academy 3)

When I pick up the last shopping bag and spill the contents on the bed, Lee makes a squeaking sound and diving over the mattress, she covers the underwear with her body.

Scrambling to gather everything, she hurriedly shoves them back into a bag, then sits on the bed, hiding it behind her back with an embarrassed look on her face, mumbling, “I can do those myself.”

With a mischievous grin on my face, I dash forward and grab the bag from behind her. “I don’t mind helping.”

“Ya!” she exclaims, shooting up from the bed and reaching for the bag. I lift it higher and chuckle when she tries to jump so she can get to it.

I’m having way too much fun teasing her.

Lee grabs hold of my shoulder and stretches as far as she can. When I lift it a little higher, she slumps back to her feet, letting go of my shoulder.

She takes a step back and slowly lifting her head, she gives me a shy look, and it instantly makes my heart melt. Then she asks in the most adorable voice, “Can I please have the bag.”

My hand lets go before I’ve even processed all the damn cuteness she’s throwing my way.

She darts forward and scooping it up, a wide smile spreads over her face.

“Oh, I see you’re still fucked,” Mason suddenly says behind me, “I’ll come back later with the rest of the stuff.”

Only then do I think to lower my hand back down from where it was still hanging in the air like a limp noodle. I take two steps back and glancing into the living room, I watch Mason push Falcon to the door.

“What?” Falcon whispers.

“Just go. I’ll tell you outside,” Mason whispers back, shoving him out of the suite. He begins to pull the door shut but then sees me. The ass lifts both his hands to his face, trying to imitate Lee which has me letting out a bark of laughter and almost falling backward. I grab hold of the door jamb and quickly straighten up, so I don’t land on my ass in front of Lee.

When I glance at her, there’s no sign of the underwear bag, and she’s already busy packing clothes into the closet.Chapter 10LeeLake and his friends are all in classes and feeling restless from not having anything to do, I walk down a path which looks like it might lead into the woods that are right behind the restaurant.

On top of all the clothes, Lake also gave me a phone. Preston showed me how to use it, and I got to speak to my mom an hour ago. She coughed a lot during the call, and when I asked her if she was getting sick, she brushed it off, telling me there was just something stuck in her throat.

I forgot to ask her what she’s doing with all the free time now that she doesn’t have to work anymore after Chairman Park gave her money.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts when someone calls, “Miss Park.”

Glancing in the direction of the restaurant, I see the waiter who served us yesterday, gesturing for me to come in.

The moment I walk inside the airconditioned building, the waiter says, “It’s already three pm. Chef Anand prepared your lunch at twelve.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know we had to eat at specified times.”

The waiter chuckles and shaking his head, he says, “There’s no specific time. Have a seat at this table. I’ll tell Chef Anand you’re here.”

I pull out a chair, and when I glance around me, I notice other students watching me. A wave of self-consciousness ripples over me, and I quickly turn my eyes to the table in front of me.

Suddenly, Chef Anand says, “Finally!” He places a bowl in front of me, and another next to me, before he sits down.

“You’re joining me?” I ask, a smile spreading over my face.

“I’ve missed the street food of Korea’s markets,” he admits.

“You’ve been to Korea?” I ask, my eyes widening with surprise.

“I lived there for five years while I studied traditional Korean cuisine.”

I look down at the bowl of Tteokbokki, and smelling the familiar spices reminds me of home, making nostalgia settle heavy in my heart.

Eomma, I miss you so much.

I close my eyes and do my best to push the heartbreaking feelings down.

Glancing at Chef Anand, I first have to take a trembling breath before I can say, “Thank you.”

“Jal meokgesseumnida,” he says, then begins to eat.

“Jal meokgesseumnida,” I repeat, and picking up my chopsticks I take a bite. “Eomeo, sooooo good,” I mumble around a mouthful of rice cakes, drenched in spicy sauce.

When my bowl is empty, and my heart and stomach is full, I say, “Jal meogeosseumnida.”

Chef Anand pats the corners of his mouth with a napkin, then he looks at me with an appreciative smile. “It’s such a pleasure preparing meals for someone who doesn’t complain about everything. Mandu is on the menu for tomorrow.”