Somewhere Only We Know(16)

The cute guy named Jack was holding my hand and we were running down the street.

It took all my concentration not to trip in my slippers. As we booked it down the steep and busy street, I glanced over at him. His eyes were narrowed as he looked ahead, my hand firmly in his grasp.

Who was this guy? Why was I trusting him? Did I trust him?

Suddenly, none of this seemed like a good idea. All my grand notions of this being a wonderful, whimsical night to remember forever when I was an old crone turned to ashes as I struggled to keep up with him, feet hurting.

The second I stepped outside onto the street, I should have turned back around. Into the mall. Eaten my forbidden hamburger and called that my rebellious deed of the trip.

Instead, I had walked down into the street and into a bus! It was so risky, so stupid, so—

I burst out laughing, knowing it was sudden and bizarre, as we turned a corner.

Yes, all of this was a bad idea. And yet, it was kind of sexy times.

Jack glanced over at me, startled by the sound.

When our eyes met, I stopped laughing.

He was too cute and I was too fuzzy-headed.

Finally, after turning the corner into an alley, we stopped. Jack pressed both of us back against the brick wall of a bank, all stealthy and practiced somehow.

Yes, great idea going into an alley with a complete stranger, Lucky.

We took a second to catch our breaths, and then Jack peeked around the corner, reaching across me, his body shielding mine briefly. Hm. I breathed in deeply—I knew it was creepy, but he smelled good. Soapy and a little sweaty.

“Okay, I think we’re good,” he said, not noticing me sniffing.

I grinned. “I’m good. You’re good. What are we good about?”

Jack’s mouth formed an unamused straight line. “You were about to get kicked out of a bar, and possibly landed in jail for like, assault. In a foreign country.” He practically smoldered. In fact, this guy’s whole look was kind of smoldering. Like Heathcliff meets K-drama meets Cali.

“How do you know I’m foreign?” I literally hiccuped the last word out.

He shook his head, raking that lovely hand through that lovely hair again. “What? We talked about it. You’re from the US.”

“Ha! That’s what you think. I live in Korea.”

Jack’s eyes roved over my face quickly, but not without interest. He had a way of looking at me so thoroughly. Giving me his undivided attention. It suffused me with a strange, but not entirely unpleasant, warmth.

“I guess I can see that. You’ve got Korea vibes,” he said.

“You also look Korean but you don’t see me talking about it!” I hollered. God, yelling felt good. I didn’t get to do it enough.

“What?” he yelped, his eyes big and incredulous. “Okay, forget it. You’re not … making sense like, at all. Let me get you back where you need to be.”

A panicky chill swept through my body. By some miracle, I had escaped from Ren Chang, the best bodyguard in Asia, and I didn’t want to go back now. The freedom had been too short, not enough, too—fuzzy. “No!”

Jack took a ragged breath. “Come on, you’re drunk or something. It’s not safe.”

“How dare you!” I jabbed a finger into his chest. “I do not drink!” I had a feeling I liked saying “how dare you.”

“Okay. You don’t drink.” His expression was maddeningly patient. As if he was dealing with a petulant child. “No worries, let’s get a car,” Jack said while pulling out his phone.

Again, the panic continued to swell. “I can’t go back, please!”

The words were “Alarming Things Women Say for Four Hundred, Alex,” and they worked. Jack’s head snapped up and he looked at me with concern. “Why? What’s wrong?”

And although I knew those words came from worry I hadn’t quite earned, my eyes welled up with tears. Outta nowhere. When was the last time anyone besides my parents asked me, “What’s wrong?” It was the question asked when my face looked drawn or sad. Or when I was crying. It was the question asked by people who truly knew you and cared.

It was easy to sound happy and relaxed on a FaceTime call, or in texts.

But soon, I could see my family in real life. The money would be so much better, and I’d actually be able to fly my entire family out to see me. Despite having two hit albums, my contract still gave much of the earnings to my management label.

It was how it was done and had always been done. I was supposed to be grateful for the fame, for making it to the top in a competitive field. Being an idol? Up until very recently, it had been enough.

At some point, something changed. Watching that video in my hotel room? I knew something was missing now. I just wasn’t sure what it was. And right now, this night with this guy was helping me avoid it. To forget that my accomplished dreams were no longer fulfilling.

My cheeks were wet, my eyelash extensions clinging to them. Jack slipped the phone back into his jeans pocket. “Hey … hey. Don’t cry.” He kept his distance, but I felt his warmth anyway.

The big feel I got from this guy since we met was … caring. He cared and he had no reason to. That’s why I had followed him down a dark alley.

Suddenly, I was so, so tired. And embarrassed. I wasn’t acting like myself and I was a mess, and this guy was now spending too much time with me, and it was all going to get leaked out in the press.