CHAPTER FIVE
JASE
I ’m choking.
Legitimately-struggling-to-stop-coughing, can’t breathe, eyes-watering kind of choking.
I should have known better than to be drinking something as the call connected and Nikko came into view. I’d barely had time to notice that the room he was in was different again, only just taking in the way he was smiling, looking a little like he had been waiting for me.
He’d made eye contact with me for approximately one second before blurting out, “Are you married?”
And then I was choking, completely caught off-guard. No greeting. No warning. He’s not really asked me many questions—and nothing personal. But then he goes and starts with that one. I wonder why that’s what he wants to know. The idea that he’s curious about my relationship status, whether or not I’m married, makes my heart do some sort of off-rhythm tap dance.
“I am so sorry!” I can see him full-on panicking, his hands flailing all over the place, gravitating toward the screen like he can fix this somehow and then trying to cover his face and hide the blush that’s spread across his cheeks. “Oh my god. I am sorry.”
I shake my head, not wanting him to be any more embarrassed than he clearly already is, but the fact that I can’t stop hacking isn’t helping. It’s like my esophagus has totally betrayed me.
Finally, I think to take another sip of my tea, which helps enough to let me catch my breath and wipe my eyes. I’m almost afraid to turn back to him, because I’m not quite sure how we’re going to move on from here, and whether or not I’m supposed to pretend that didn’t just happen.
“Jase?” His voice is so quiet and hesitant. He sounds small and far away, and I don’t like that at all.
I glance toward the screen and it looks as though he’s ready to run away and hide somewhere. Which is the last thing that I want. I clear my throat a couple of times, hoping my voice will cooperate. “I’m fine,” I say, which is a lie of epic proportions because nothing about me is fine right now, but I need him to feel better. “My green tea is clearly out to kill me.”
“I am so sorry,” Nikko repeats, his gaze downcast. “That was wrong of me. And rude. I—I should go. I think.”
“No!” I don’t mean to shout, but I’m not about to let him end the call and go off to worry about what he thinks he did and whether he might have upset me.
His eyes are wide, and he’s clearly startled by my volume, but he stays where he is.
“Okay, now I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to feel bad. And you don’t need to apologize. You can ask me questions. I don’t mind.” I smile, but I know it’s kind of weak because that’s not all I want to tell him. But I can’t exactly come out and admit that I’d like him to know about me—that I hope he’s curious about me the same way that I’m interested in everything about him.
“I have not tried to know you so much. And that is not how you act as a friend.” He speaks slowly, choosing his words very carefully. It seems like there’s more to what he’s saying, but I don’t want to try to guess at what it might be. I might have hope, of course, but I don’t want to let myself get totally carried away.
Sitting back in my chair, I try to look as open and easy-going as possible, having just nearly died and all. I’d be happy to throw myself at the computer and tell him to ask me anything, but that seems like a bit much. So I decide to do something that is perhaps risky at best, and incredibly stupid at worst. “To answer your question, no, I’m not married.”
I watch him as I say it, hoping his expression will give me some kind of hint. Only the corner of his mouth quirks up the tiniest bit. It’s not much, but I’ll take it.
I can practically see the debate that’s happening inside his head. He wants to ask me something, but doesn’t know if he should. “Nikko, do you remember our first conversation?:
His brow furrows in confusion. “Yes?”
“I said that you should speak freely with me. I still mean that. If I don’t want to answer something or don’t want to talk about whatever, I’ll tell you.” I hear what I’m saying, but kind of can’t believe it. The words are just coming out, and I guess I’m going for it now. “Part of conversation is going with the flow, and part of getting to know someone is asking questions and finding out who they really are. Our talks, they can be both. We can work together and be friends.”
He gives a little nod, like he’s made up his mind about something now that I’ve said all of that. “Okay. Yes. We will... be friends.”
“Great.” I take a very cautious taste of my tea, relieved when it turns out I actually can swallow normally when a beautiful man isn’t quizzing me about my marital status. “So, friend, what do you want to know?”
“Anything? Tell me about you.” It’s a definitive statement that sounds almost commanding, but it’s followed by the sweetest smile. The one that reaches his eyes and makes them seem soft.
I think back to that first conversation again, and how he’d introduced himself to me. He already knows that I can’t cook, and some other totally random facts and anecdotes that I’ve slipped into conversations in the past. I know this is my opportunity to tell him the things I want him to learn about me. It suddenly feels like a lot of pressure—a speed-dating style elevator pitch about myself.
As if he can sense I’m overwhelmed, Nikko prompts me with, “What about your time in Korea?”
Of course. That makes sense. I’ve mentioned that I was there; I’m always talking about how much I miss the food, but I’ve never explained anything beyond that.
I smile. This is easy. I can do this. I can definitely talk about the best time in my life and my favorite place I’ve ever been. “After I graduated from university, I had my degree in education, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to jump into a full-time job right away. I’d done student teaching, and it was okay, but I’d been working with middle-schoolers, like 12 and 13 year olds, and I didn’t think that was necessarily the age of kids I wanted to spend every day with. I know I was terrible at that age, so the idea of dealing with that all the time didn’t seem very appealing.”
Nikko is laughing, and it makes me feel kind of warm, in the best way. “I think everyone is terrible then.”
“You’re probably right,” I agree, even though I actually can’t imagine him having gone through an awkward or unpleasant phase. “A friend of mine from some of my classes had an older sister who had taught English overseas. I think she did a year in Thailand and then Japan? Maybe? I don’t remember exactly, but I thought that sounded great. I could still teach and use what I’d learned but also have some sort of adventure. I went to a university a few hours from where I grew up and thought going to the other side of the world would be amazing. So I contacted her recruiter, and they asked how I felt about South Korea, and I said, ‘sure!’ Something like six weeks later, I was on a plane. I knew nothing about South Korea and didn’t speak a word of Korean, but somehow it didn’t seem like that big of a deal at the time.”
I stop, realizing I’m rambling and not even talking about what he’d asked. But he’s got that same wide grin and happy eyes, like he’s enjoying listening to me. “I was absolutely not prepared to land in Seoul. I stepped into the airport and immediately thought, oh shit .”
There’s a burst of laughter from the other side of the screen. Nikko echoes, “Oh shit?” and it’s adorable. He’s normally very careful to stay away from anything that could be considered a curse, so it feels like a treat to get to hear.
“Yeah. It was a very sudden realization that I probably should have done some research before I decided to just go .” I’m grinning, though, as I think about those first hours in a new place and how absolutely insane they were. “The recruiter, Mike, picks me up from the airport and tells me that my apartment by the school isn’t quite ready yet because technically the last person is still living in it, which would make it, you know, inconvenient for me to move in with them…”
Nikko is cracking up as I tell the story. It makes me happy to be able to entertain him like this, and I haven’t even gotten to the real ‘WTF’ part. I rationalize that this is good practice for him to listen to a story and be able to react accordingly, instead of me just taking up time to talk about myself because I want him to know.
“So, he stops outside a hotel and tells me that it’s where I’ll be staying until the apartment is available. It wasn’t fancy, but I thought it looked pretty normal until we started walking inside, and I realized that it was a love motel. I could read the by-the-hour rate sign because it was also in English.” I have to stop talking again because Nikko has fully disappeared from the screen, doubled over as he bangs a hand on the table or desk or whatever his computer is sitting on, making the picture wobble like there’s an earthquake. “The clerk looks at us, and I can only imagine what she thought—me, this American, fresh-out-of-college kid, and this hefty older man, coming in together. I had no idea what she was saying, but I could tell it wasn’t anything good by the way she was literally shooing us back toward the door.”
Nikko takes a deep breath, suddenly serious. “She thought you were there… as a couple.”
I realize this is an opportunity. I can answer honestly, test the proverbial waters and see how he responds. What I meant to be a funny story has quickly turned into so much more than that.
“Yep.” I nod, knowing whatever comes next might make all the difference in our relationship and how we relate to each other from here on out. “I may have dated some questionable guys in the past, but Mike was very much not my type.”
The way Nikko’s whole face changes is amazing to witness. His eyes light up and go wide, eyebrows arching high, and his jaw drops a little, his mouth a perfect ‘O’ of surprise. But as cute as he looks in that instant—because he schools his expression almost immediately—it is secondary to the blush that pinks his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
I take his reaction to mean a couple of things: he hadn’t been expecting me to say that or be so open, but... he just might be happy about it. Excited, even. I can’t help but think maybe, maybe , he’s been wondering about me, too. A pleased shiver runs along my spine, sparking something that feels a lot like the hope I wasn’t going to let myself have.
“Did you find anyone in Seoul that was your type?” he asks. His voice is low, and his eyes have darted away from mine again. He’s nervous. But he wants to know more.
As much as I’d like to throw any remaining caution to the wind, I won’t overwhelm him. But I will give him all the information that I think I can and let him do what he will with it.
I shrug one shoulder. “I didn’t actually date anyone while I was in Seoul. I was trying to figure out too many things about myself to add another person to the mix. I was learning a new language and a new place and just happened to meet Kija pretty early on and fall into his friend group. They were all single, but straight, and most of them were in university and totally fine with hookups and one night stands, but that’s not how I roll. And to be honest, I didn’t really get the impression there was a lot of support for the LGBTQ+ community, which also made me hesitant. So, no. That was a long answer, but no.“
Pausing for a breath, I glance at him again, feeling the weight of his gaze on me, even through the screen. He’s fully focused on me, attention rapt. He asked about Korea, and I could veer back to that, but it doesn’t really seem like that’s what this is about anymore. Maybe it never was.
“Although, coming back to the States wasn’t much different. I thought I wanted to find a job and get settled when I got home, but what I really wanted was to go back to Korea. I loved the life I had there, and I wasn’t planning on staying here long enough to begin a relationship, so I didn’t even really try. But I started working at the high school, and then I was going back to school for a master’s degree, and then...” I laugh, but it’s pretty humorless. Just the truth of the situation. “There’s always an ‘and then.’ I haven’t had a boyfriend since I was in university the first time. And now, so much time has passed that it feels like I might have missed a lot of chances, and it’s late to jump back into the game. Which makes me sound old as hell, but...”
“No.”
The sound of Nikko’s voice startles me as I’m trying to process everything I just word vomited at him. I look at him and wait for what he has to say.
“I understand,” he tells me. That impossibly soft look in his eyes makes my heart ache. “I feel it, too. I have not had the...” He stops, bites his lip.
I can’t tell if he’s looking for a word or debating about how much he wants to share. I doubt either one of us anticipated this kind of vulnerability in a random Tuesday conversation.
“I... lack experiences.” His voice wavers a little. “I have not had chances. To date. Anyone.” A shaky breath. “I hope to have a boyfriend, one day.”
There it is. Preferences have been declared. He knows. I know.
I’m not sure what to do with the information now that I have it, but I don’t have to wonder any more. Maybe I’ll be able to fall asleep without lying there and going over every moment that I thought may have been a hint, a clue, an indication that I wasn’t just imagining that there was something here. Something more. He didn’t specifically say he was interested in me, but somehow I know I’m not reading this wrong. I’m sure of it.
I smile at him, letting it linger for a second longer than I would have before this conversation. I’m sure the line between what I should and shouldn’t say is so blurry by this point that it’s more of a suggestion than a boundary, but I also feel like I shouldn’t just come out and say I’d date the hell out of him if I had a chance. Because no matter what could be happening here, that’s not a possibility. But he needs to know that I see him.
So I tell him what I believe. “You will, Nikko. Any guy would be lucky to be with you.”