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Granted, I’m still reluctant to divulge my feelings to Rafe, and that is for two reasons. First, what if he actually wanted to be with me? Tell people I was his boyfriend? He’s in a popular heavy metal band—between all the groupies that go along with it and all of the well-deserved media attention they attract, I worry that I’ll be too exposed. That my past will rise to the surface, along with that damn video clip of me kissing Min Jun.
But that is not all of it, and my second reason is bigger.
My worst fear is that he will break me. If I open my heart to Rafe, I will fall in love with him and it will kill me when—not if—he leaves me. From his track record with bedmates, Rafe will eventually throw me away for another man, leaving me not only exposed to the world, but also empty. That one-two punch would be crushing. It would bring me so low I might not survive it.
Rafe cups my right cheek and turns my head until we’re eye to eye. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
I’m ready to lie again, but then he leans in and kisses me, sweet and gentle, nothing like moments before. Like he actually cares. When he pulls back, the wealth of warmth in those blue irises has the truth teasing my lips to open and spill all of my past.
At least he’ll hear the truth from me.
“What is it?” Rafe urges, his hand now on my heart. “Is this about you being a K-pop singer?”
Doesn’t he know what his touch does to me? My pulse races, my breath catches, and a shiver skates down my spine. Heat pools beneath his hand, and my stomach knots with a mix of longing and nerves. I can get so consumed by the feel of him that I tend to forget my mind.
And right now, I’m afraid I’ll lose my nerve before I can tell him about my past. Before his touch unravels what little courage I have left, I draw a shaky breath and force the words out.
“Ever since I can remember, my father always said that I had a good voice. So when it was time for me to go to school, he signed me up for extra-curricular classes in the arts. Music, voice lessons—you name it, I was in it.”
“Sounds tiring, just you explaining it to me,” he says with a small smile. He removes his hand from my chest and I’m able to relax.
“It was. But I was a dutiful son. I learned while growing up that I couldn’t defy my father or say no, or there would be consequences. Anyway, the K-pop craze was going strong, and my father had the brilliant idea of forming a group and pitched it to the people who were a part of the K-pop industry.”
“I guess they were interested?”
“Yes. Once they heard me sing. Soon after, my father pulled a bunch of us from different schools, did a mini casting and found six of us—with me included.”
“Who else was in the group?” he asks tentatively, but from the disgruntled look on his face, he knows what I’m going to say.
“Eun—”
“I knew it,” he blurts out, cutting me off. “Sorry. Go on.”
“Min Jun was a part of it.”
“He’s the guy you kissed?” Rafe has a faraway look in his eyes before he refocuses back on me. “He was the tall guy, dressed very casual?”
“Yes,” I say, blowing out a resigned breath. “Eun and Min Jun were from my school district. And there were three others, from a different school district.” I sit up and move to lean against the headboard. “We only met each other four times to practice before the whole thing blew up.”
“Why was the kiss a big deal?” he asks so innocently. “I know the U.S. has its small-minded assholes, but I figured that here it would be different.”
I glance at him in surprise. “Rafe, bigotry is just as much a part of this culture as it is in the States.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Rafe lays on his back, his left arm tucked under his head. “I’m starting to see that I’ve been in my own little bubble.”
“It’s okay,” I say, my heart softening up more for him. “Not everyone travels outside their country. Besides, you are getting a crash course on life in Korea.” I lean into him, our lips barely an inch apart.
“You know your grandmother and the guys will be back soon,” Rafe says before he takes my mouth like it’s going to be our last time kissing.
Not much later, I hear the sound of car doors. “Crap. Halmeoni’s home.” I jump out of bed and quickly dress.
I glance at Rafe, assuming he’s also up and doing the same thing. But he remains in bed, relaxed and looking at me through hungry eyes. “What’s the hurry?”
“Are you kidding me? Get up, get dressed, and act like we didn’t just have sex,” I demand before securing my belt through the loops of my pants. “Hurry,” I whisper-yell at him and then leave the room.
Right as I reach the living room, the kitchen door opens and in walks my grandmother, smiling like she’s a school girl. Geez, I haven’t seen her looking so happy since I was a kid.
“What has you smiling so wide, Halmeoni?” I ask, taking the two bags out of her hands and placing them on the table.