Page 23 of Somewhere Only We Know
Then I stepped in something wet and registered mybare feet.
Waves of revulsion rolled over me as I tried not to think about what I might have stepped in. Ew, ew,ew.
I took a deep breath, pushed my hair off my face, and closed myeyes. Mind over matter. Trying to summon my meditation app’s breathing exercises. It was all about focusing on your breath so that the absolute horror of your surroundings and current life could melt away or something. It did help, though. It got me through excruciating dance numbers with a sprained ankle. Got me through the scent of grilled meats at late-night barbecue spots when I was subsisting on sweet potatoes.
My mind finally stilled as it was on the edge of freak-out mode. Tightly wound self-control kept me anchored, kept me still. When I opened my eyes, I was as cool as a cucumber. I had no idea where I was in the city, and not wearing shoes would attract unwanted attention. Not to mention, it was totally gross.
So I grudgingly made my way back to the apartment. Except I didn’t know which one I came from. I walked door to door, hoping one of them would trigger some sort of familiarity by appearance alone.
Moments from last night kept flashing through my mind, including the boy’s face. And then suddenly, I wasn’t merely imagining his face. I was seeing it.
Right in front of me.
He was standing in the hallway, holding up my slippers. “You forgot something.”
Even though his hair was all mussed, his eyes still bleary, and clothes rumpled, there was a confident gleam in his eyes. His lips curled up into a knowing smile.
I snatched the slippers from him. “Where am I?”
“You’re at a luxury apartment complex in Hong Kong,” he said. Every part of him exuded extreme enjoyment at this predicament. It turned that lovely mouth into a punchable one.
“Listen. I don’t know you.” I poked his chest with my slipper.“You’re just some random creep who brought me back to his place, so I don’t think this is the time for you to be actingsassy, do you?”
For a moment, his confidence seemed to flag, but then he bounced back with triple the zest. “You know me. Jack. Jack Lim.”
Jack. I remembered now. I recalled a flash of his smile on a steep street saying the same thing. And I remembered a few other things: A sturdy hand on my back as I stumbled down steep stairs on the bus. A slightly disapproving-auntie vibe as he sat next to me at a bar. That perv musician asking me to feed him ice cream. The butterflies, and Jack rushing me out of the bar. I also remembered that he didn’t know who I was.
A tiny flare of trust started to spread through my chest.
My eyes whipped up to his face, looking for a hint of last night’s chivalry in that self-assured expression.
He raised an eyebrow. “Hi?”
I frowned. “Are you American?”
An exaggerated wince. “Don’t hold it against me.”
Whowasthis guy? I had never met anybody soonin my life. And I worked in the freaking music industry!
“We already established this, Fancy Shoes. We’re both from California.” His gaze held mine warmly, and I flushed.
My instinct was to hide my face, but I remembered that he didn’t know who I was.
“Well, I wouldn’t call myself a Californian, anymore,” I said hesitantly. “I haven’t lived there in years.” The information slipped out too easily. Years of training usually had me more careful with what I revealed—not that me being American was some big secret or anything.
I knew I should be wary of this grinning confidence of his. It wasn’tthat I trusted him exactly. It was that I didn’t want tocareabout trusting him. I was tired of living in a constant state of vigilance.
So I stood there instead of running away.
“You still have a Valley girl accent,” Jack said. I was about to protest, but the way his eyes stayed firmly on my face was distracting, and I felt the first annoying tingles of crushness.
How many times had I been half-naked on a stage, on a TV screen? After getting used to the feeling of being ogled, I’d grown numb to it. Men looked at me all the time—with equal parts reverence and lust. I’d learned to stop noticing. But for some reason, this guy’s eyes on my face, the genuine interest in his expression, made every inch of me hyperaware of him. I remembered, vaguely, his focus on me last night. Always concerned and interested.
I couldn’t stop noticing his attention because it was physically impossible.
While I stared back at him, Jack continued to speak, half-perplexed, half-amused. “So. Fern. What are your plans today? I think you owe me breakfast after last night.”
My mouth dropped open.Fern? Oh, God. Right. “Wha… why, what happened?” I frantically tried to remember if any funny business had happened between us.
