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“You told me he didn’t talk! You literally said, ‘not much’, when I asked you!” I couldn’t tell if I sounded offended by the lie or baffled by the information.

“Because you’re nosy!” She laughed, and I stared at her so closely, eyes narrowed so that I couldn’t fail to see the blush on her cheeks.

“I’m nosy?” I spluttered. “Moi? When I first started seeing Jihoon, you basically crawled up my butt demanding details!”

“Yeah, but that’s because I was worried about you,” she argued reasonably. “You’re obviously not concerned about me with Jin because you know him well enough to know he’s not a creeper, otherwise you wouldn’t have made such a big deal about introducing us.”

I raised an eyebrow, and conceded the point. Woojin was a bit intimidating, but he was a good person. Not just because his list of charitable contributions was as long as my arm, and not just because he’d paid for the therapy of the stalker who’d broken into his hotel that one time. Although – all excellent reasons.

“Okay, so why didn’t you tell me?”

Becka determinedly kept her eyes on the road.

“I guess I kind of wanted to keep it to myself for a while. I didn’t wanna turn it into a thing we gossip about.”

I turned away as my throat suddenly felt tight. I remembered feeling the exact same way in the beginning.

I forced my shoulders to relax. I was so tired of stumbling across new things that made me ache, even when they had nothing to do with me. It was like just being around him dragged everything close enough to the surface that even proximity hurt.

“Okay, fair enough,” I said loudly, hoping she mistook it for a lightness I didn’t quite feel. “I might be able to get you a press pass for one of the Oakland concerts, if you want to see him again.”

Becka squirmed. “I already have a ticket,” she admitted.

I blinked at her. “Say what now? They’ve been sold out for weeks–”

“He got me a VIP pass this morning.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I paused, replaying the words in my head, one by one until they made sense.

“Babes, you look like your head is gonna explode,” Becka said wryly, looking over at me with an expression that seemed half apologetic, half embarrassed.

I squeezed my eyes shut, taking an exaggerated breath. “Explain.”

“Okay, okay, for fear of turning this conversation into a miscommunication trope,” Becka grinned, “we exchanged numbers at Emporia. He got me a VIP pass this morning for the first Oakland concert.”

I waved aside the information about the concert. “You’ve been messaging each other?”

Becka shrugged but her lips curved.

“And you… like him?” I prompted. “Not just because of the whole ‘Woojin’s wife’ joke?”

She barked out a laugh. “I mean, I barely know the guy.” Then, in a quieter voice. “But yeah. I like him.”

I was desperate to press for more details, but I clamped my mouth shut. Becka was not a secretive person by nature. If she wanted to tell me, she would. But until then, this belonged to her.

We were both exhausted by the time we pulled up to her parents’ house. I stayed long enough to have a real, home-cooked meal and then I took an Uber into the city to the hotel we were all staying in. Sihyeon had been kind enough to make sure my suitcase had made it from LA to Oakland, and by the time I walked into the lobby, rucksack slung over my drooping shoulders, I was dead on my feet.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out tiredly.

Joon

Are you at the hotel yet?

[Sent 21:48]

Me

Just got here. How did you know I wasn’t already?