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I arched my hips, and he slid my shorts off. Once I was bare for him, he palmed me, sliding his fingers against me in gentle, knowing movements that had me gasping his name before he captured my moans with his lips.
He made love to me slowly, something almost reverent in the way he pressed so close, cupping my face in his hands as he moved inside me, watching my every expression.
There was so much love in his eyes that it was almost hard to keep mine fixed on his, and at the end, when he cried out my name, I had to close them. Not because I didn’t feel the same.
But because I did.
Chapter 44
It shouldn’t have come as a complete surprise the next morning when Jihoon told me his family had invited me to lunch.
We were lying in bed together, enjoying the first morning in days where he hadn’t needed to leave immediately. We’d been able to wake up together. No alarms, no expectations, except this newest one, apparently, where I was expected to turn up to his parents’ house for lunch.
“Surely it’s not appropriate to invite a work colleague to a private family lunch,” I spluttered, making up the excuse on the spot. Anxiety propelled the words from my mouth quicker than my brain could filter them for sense.
Jihoon smiled, just a crooked little tilt of his lips, but it gave me a small measure of peace to see his face relax after how strained he had been these past days.
“Jagiya… they know who you are,” he said gently.
My mouth fell open, but no sound came out, which might have been because my heart was suddenly in my throat.
“They knew your name from before,” he clarified.
He meant from the time we’d lived together in Seoul. I’d completely forgotten about that. They’d never featured in our lives back then, apart from the occasional phone call. Now though, I remembered that he had told them who I was. The basics, I thought. My name, where I was from. I didn’t know what else. Maybe only that. The very top-most surface level of who I was.
“Oh,” I said weakly. “So, when I met them at the funeral…”
He nodded.
“Oh,” I said again, voice wavering.
Then a thought occurred to me. “Wait, do they know me as your ex, or your–your girlfriend?” The question tripped off my tongue, and this suddenly seemed like the most important distinction in the world.
Jihoon glanced away, his face crumpling for a second before he took a breath in.
“I told my halmeoni,” he said roughly. “It was one of the last times I spoke to her.”
Unthinkingly, I leaned forward and pressed my hand to his warm chest, feeling his heart fluttering beneath my palm.
“I have not told my parents,” he went on. “But I brought you with me. I am sure they know. Is that okay?”
His brows furrowed as his eyes darted over my face, as though trying to read my expression, as though it had just occurred to him that I might not want anyone to know.
Honestly, the idea of telling anyone hadn’t even crossed my mind. Becka knew, of course, but I hadn’t told my parents, because what would I say? It didn’t feel like a real conversation yet. Being on tour made everything feel a little bit like a holiday. Not the work part – that was very un-holiday-like – but everything else felt transitory. Constantly moving, taking part in something so temporary.
We were so new and still sneaking about that I hadn’t given much thought to telling people about our relationship – even when ‘people’ was another word for ‘family’.
“Yes,” I said after a long moment. “Yes, it’s okay.”
“We do not have to go,” he said, and my eyes shot to his.
“This doesn’t feel like a thing we can blow off,” I replied hesitantly.
He scoffed and rubbed a hand down his face. “I do not want to go.” He dropped his hand back on the bed and I moved mine off his chest to tangle my fingers in his.
“Hey,” I said gently, bringing his attention back to me. “We can just leave, if you want. Pack our bags and get on the next flight.” I paused, giving him space to agree. “But I don’t think that’ll help anything. This lunch might be awkward as hell, but we can get through it together. If you want.”
He groaned dramatically, as though he’d been hoping I’d flat out refuse and he’d have an excuse not to go.