Somewhere Only We Know(41)

She nodded, not self-conscious or shy about this at all. “Yeah. I like it. I’m good at it.”

It wasn’t arrogant or anything. Just … a person who knew who she was. Envy trickled through me, icy and sudden. It was rare to see someone my age so sure of herself.

“Maybe one day I could hear one of your songs,” I said.

She raised an eyebrow before standing up in one smooth, athletic motion. “In this fantasy future where you visit me in Seoul?”

Before I could respond, she reached down and tugged me up to standing. I was surprised by it, she was stronger than she looked. When I stood, we were facing each other—very close.

I pushed the book into her chest. “Did you want me to buy this for you, too?”

She glanced down at it. “Nah. I already have a lot of copies.”

“You were reading stuff you’ve already read?”

“Yup. When I like something, I like it.” She turned around, headed to the café, and for some reason those words quickened my pulse, made me feel overheated.

Before I could recover, Lucky hollered from across the bookstore, near the adjoining café. “Can we get some of this food?”

I laughed. “Feed the beast.”

“Always.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE


LUCKY


We sat down to some milk tea, a Hong Kong specialty according to Jack. A plate of cookies was brought alongside them, and I grabbed one.

“Tell me about your parents,” I said before I bit into it. It was my time to question him for once.

His eyes widened. “Okay, cutting to the chase, I guess.”

“It’s only a few steps after, ‘when and where were you born,’ which I already happen to know.” Los Angeles. The coincidence of that still baffled me. “What do they do?” I paused. “I mean, if they’re both still alive.” Why did I even say that? So morbid.

Jack slid his hand over and grabbed a cookie chunk, his hand grazing mine. A tiny firework went off where our skin touched. Poof.

He let out a short laugh. “Yes, they’re still alive. Well, my mom stays home and my dad is a banker, like I mentioned before,” he said, popping the cookie into his mouth.

“Oh, cool. There does seem to be a lot of banking here,” I said feebly. Genius observation, Lucky. “So do you like interning at the bank?”

“I pretty much hate it,” he said, dunking another piece of cookie into his tea. His tone was light.

“That sucks,” I said. “Well, it’s only temporary until college, right?”

Before he could respond, he knocked his cup of tea over, the milky liquid pouring to his side of the table, dripping into his lap.

I jumped up. “Oh no!”

Jack made an annoyed sound and stood up, wiping his shirt off where the tea splattered. “Sorry, I’m gonna go wipe this off,” he said as he pushed his chair away from the table.

“Okay.” I reached across to mop up the tea with a napkin and was joined by Sissi, who came over with a rag.

“Thanks,” I said to her with a smile.

She nodded in response. “Hey, maybe he needs a new shirt?” she said, half question, half statement. “We have some nerdy literary shirts in our gifts section.”

“Ooh,” I said, tapping my fingers against each other. “I’ll go take a look.”

The gift section was pushed back into the corner of the shop, as if the shop were reluctant to hawk non-books among its precious literary tomes. I sifted through a rack of soft cotton T-shirts emblazoned with vintage book covers, illustrations of glasses, cats, etc.

I wanted to get him something embarrassing but it had to be the right kind of embarrassing. Something caught my eye then. It was one of those black-and-white ampersand name shirts:

Jo &

Meg &

Beth &

Amy

I snorted. Perfect. If he got the Little Women reference I would faint. And then marry him, let’s be honest.

I held it up and waved it at Sissi, who gave me a thumbs-up from across the store. Heh heh. The bathroom was down a narrow hall lined with mops and lockers. I knocked on the door.

“Hey, Sissi said you can wear one of the shirts here. I picked one out for you.”

The door opened and Jack stood there with the bottom of his button-up soaking wet with water and soap suds. He peered at the shirt in my hands. “Let me see it.”

I held it up right under my eyes, the cotton brushing against my mouth. “Cool, right?” My voice was muffled behind the shirt.

He stared at it, bewildered. “Who the hell are those people?”

He raised his eyebrows at me and I pushed the shirt into his chest. “Only the four coolest women ever.”

“I don’t even want to know,” he grumbled as he started to unbutton his shirt.

I stared. “What are you doing?”

“Changing?” He kept his eyes on his shirt as he continued to unbutton.

Keep your eyes on his face. “Well, okay, Magic Mike.” That made absolutely no sense and was embarrassing and weird and revealing way too much about the exact way his undressing was making me feel right now.

Laughter made his eyes crinkle in the corners as he looked up at me. I was paying such close attention to his eyes right now. Two spherical organs nestled into a skull. That’s all. Like, nope, not gonna look below those eyeballs. Just keep starin’ at the eyeballs.