Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Her eyes widened. She scooted toward me with an ear-splitting squeak of leather stool on tile. “I knew it. I’m so lucky. I heard some K-pop idols were bar-hopping tonight, and now I’ve found one! Which group?”
I looked over my shoulder. “Pardon?”
“You’re Korean!”
I ground my molars. I had a mirror, cool thanks. “Half Korean, my mom is Swedish. And I’m not a musician.”
“Of course you are,” she said, patting my arm. “You have a Samsung Galaxy.”
“…What? I’m sorry, I’m confused.”
How much could a woman blink? And why so fast? Was she fanning my face with her lashes? “Korean idols always have Samsungs.” She laughed and flicked her wrist. “It’s a loyalty thing.”
“Do you… study Koreans?” I asked slowly. “Also, that’s not a thing. A ton of people worldwide use Samsungs. It’s not just an Asian thing—which, by the way, is kind of insulting.”
She clasped her hands over her chest. “And so smart! What’s with the disguise? Hats and sunglasses indoors? Hiding from your fans?”
Clearly, I wasn’t getting out of this alive. I leaned in conspiratorially. “Okay, you got me. But I don’t want my label to drop me. Keep this between us, yeah?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “You’re so brave.”
“It’s hard,” I said gravely. “Some days.”
“Just sing it out,” she whispered. “Give it to the music gods.”
“Oh, I’ll give it something,” I muttered, already plotting the earful Harper was going to get for dragging me to a campus bar.
That’s when I spotted her again—storming past the tables, one stiletto in hand, the other still strapped on.
I tossed cash on the bar. “Gotta go.”
Outside, she stomping away, hobbling actually. I slipped into stride beside her and started talking: “Learned your lesson and took the shoe with you this time, hmm? Cinderella? Princes are overrated anyway.”
She spun on her heel—her one remaining heel—and brandished the other shoe like a weapon.
I put my hands up. “That wasn’t an invitation for violence.”
“He’s the worst!”
I squinted. “Did you at least get any content?”
“Five minutes. Maybe six.” She huffed. “Seven. I lost track, okay? I was too busy not committing homicide.”
Something in her tone prickled the back of my neck. Her mascara was smudged, her hands shaking.
I dropped my voice. “Do you want me to go back in there? Yes or no?”
She swallowed, looking down.
“Harper.” My tone went lethal. “What. Did. He. Do.”
“He liked the dress,” she said finally.
“…Okay.”
“A lot.”
“Explain.”
“He touched—”
I didn’t wait for the rest.
Red flooded my vision as I barreled back inside. He was at the bar, leaning in too close to the K-pop conspiracy theorist, his hand on her chin.
Nope.
I tapped his shoulder.
He turned, all greasy hair brushing his cheap baby-blue suit jacket, reeking of discount cologne. “Yeah?”
“You don’t just touch someone without their permission,” I said.
He smirked, looked me over like I was a speed bump. “Any girl willing to go on that many dates that fast is asking for something. Dressed like—”
I didn’t let him finish. One punch. Hard.
He toppled into a barstool, hit the ground with a thud.
“I’ll SUE!” he screeched.
“Try it. You’ll lose. The date was on her phone—camera and all.”
I turned to leave but caught movement—too late. Something slammed into the back of my head.
We went down in a tangle of limbs on the floor as he swung wildly. I countered with my right hook, sending him sprawling across a table.
I dropped a business card on the bar. “For damages.”
It took everything I had not to shout Clark Kent out, but Harper came first.
I got her in the car, got her home. Didn’t even notice the blood until I was in her bathroom.
When I came back, she’d downed an entire bottle of wine and was halfway into another.
“You good?” I asked.
She burped.
I laughed. “Attractive.”
She glared, then softened. “Your eye!” She set the bottle down and crawled into my lap, straddling me before I could react.
Every muscle in my body locked.
Her thumb brushed the cut under my eye, removing my glasses. She blew on it, the smell of red wine flooding my senses along with every bad idea I’d ever had about her.
“I always forget,” she murmured, her blurry eyes locking on mine. “How pretty you are without glasses.” Our noses touched. “I should remember, it’s weird I forget.”
Weird was not the word I’d use.
“You’re drunk,” I said.
“I’m aware.” Her nose slid against mine. “I should kiss my prince charming. Tired of frogs.”
“I’ve always hated amphibians.” I breathed the words, waiting, indecision freezing me.
“Me too.” She leaned her head on my shoulder, then slid off me and onto the couch, laying her head in my lap. “Too bad you’re not supposed to kiss your best friends. What’s that song? About the way they taste? I taste like red wine.”
She was killing me.
She rolled to her side, her hands gliding across my stomach, my hips. Every inch of me screamed.
“It’s wrong,” she whispered.