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She dropped to a knee beside me and reached for my hand, but I yanked it away.

“Stay away from my fingers, you monster. What in the Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was that?” I asked incredulously, cradling my aching digits to my chest as Becka sheepishly grinned.

“In my defence, I thought I was getting mugged.” She got to her feet and offered me a hand, which I took, and allowed her to pull me to my feet.

“In the middle of a crowded airport?” I asked sceptically, shaking out my hand.

“Well, you never know.” She shrugged.

“And how the hell did you know how to do that?” I waved my hand at her, accusingly.

“I’ve been taking self-defence classes.”

“Since when?”

“A few months ago.”

“Why?” I asked suspiciously.

“So if anyone tries to shove me in the back of a cab against my will, I can choke a bitch out.”

I stared at Becka until she started squirming.

“Okay, fine. I got a coupon. But also, the choke thing.” she admitted, grabbing the handle of her suitcase.

I snorted and wrapped my arms around her. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. ENT won’t give me security, and now my best mate is in Seoul, I finally feel safe.”

“Shut the hell up,” she laughed, but wrapped an arm around my waist and squeezed. “I’m glad to see you too, babes.”

I watched Becka’s face as she stared out of the taxi window as the city came into focus.

“You know, you really could have stayed at Joon’s,” I said for what felt like the tenth time. “I’ll be there.”

Becka snorted, not bothering to turn back around. “Precisely why I don’t want to. I’m sure it’s bougie and awesome, but I draw the line at bunking down in my best friend’s love nest.”

I rolled my eyes.

“No, thank you,” she went on. “The Airbnb I’m staying at is good enough for me, and tax-deductible.”

“Is it, really?” I asked, impressed.

“No idea.” Becka waved her hand. “But probably. I’ve dragged myself all the way to Korea to see a client.”

I snorted.

“That’s what it’ll look like on paper. Technically, it’s true.”

I sighed, holding a hand to my chest. “My best mate, the international client relations, PR, crisis manager, thingy.”

“At your service,” she said with a dramatic flourish.

I gave Becka a brief tour of Jihoon’s house, and she made all the appropriate noises.

“I was right. It is bougie and awesome.”

“It is not bougie,” I protested. “But it is awesome. Let’s sit in the living room. It’s kind of the only place with furniture,” I said, wrinkling my nose.

“Yeah, what’s that about? Does Korea not have IKEA?” Becka laughed, carrying her coffee in from the kitchen for us to settle around the small table in the living room.