Chapter 12 #3
“I don’t feel the same way as you do. I don’t get swept up in the thoughts of happily ever after; those don’t exist. I’m not looking to be in a relationship.
Let’s just keep this professional. Thank you for inviting me out, but I’m going to call it a night.
Please pass on my apologies to Axel for leaving early. ”
I stand frozen in the lobby, watching her walk away. Why is she making this so fucking hard?
“Would you like me to call a car for you, ma’am?” the concierge asks.
“Yes, thank you,” she replies, still not looking back.
I should let her go. She’s made herself clear and pursuing her now would only make things worse. But something about the rigid line of her shoulders, the way her fingers clench around her clutch, tells me she’s lying to both of us.
I catch up to Minji in three quick strides. “Let me at least see you home.”
She doesn’t turn around. “I can manage.”
“I’m sure you can.” I glance at the concierge, who’s suddenly very interested in his computer screen. “But I invited you here. Let me finish what I started.”
Her shoulders drop a fraction. “Just the ride.”
The concierge announces our car will arrive in three minutes.
We wait without speaking, maintaining twelve inches between us like there’s an invisible force field.
My fingers twitch with the memory of her waist, and I can still taste her on my lips.
The minutes tick by. The car pulls up, glossy black, and the uniformed driver hops out to open the door for us.
“Thank you,” she says, settling into the back without looking at me.
I slip into the backseat beside her, making sure to keep enough distance.
The city becomes a blur of lights and rain-spattered glass, moving past in silence.
“I meant what I said up there.” I break, finally, because the silence is too sharp to bear.
“About not wanting to hurt you. About wanting more.” She stares out the window, not even bothering to dignify it with a response.
I deserve that. So, I try a different tactic.
“You know, statistically, people who claim to hate romance novels are actually the ones who secretly want a happy ending the most.”
Her eyes flash to me, incredulous and angry. “Is that what this is? A seduction technique? Psychoanalyze your way into my pants?”
“Not that I would object to being in your pants again,” I deadpan, which only seems to make her jaw tense more. Wrong move, Singleton. “But that’s not why I’m here.”
“Good. Because I’m not interested. In romance. Or in you.”
That almost makes me laugh, because for someone so uninterested, she can’t stop looking at my mouth. “Fine.” I lean back, turning my face to the window. “I’ll keep my mouth shut for now.”
She doesn’t respond, but her fingers soften where they rest on her clutch.
The rest of the ride is taut enough to snap a violin string.
All I can do is count the city blocks, listening for the tiny sounds she makes—a single exhale, the rustle of silk on the seat, the faint click of her teeth when she bites the inside of her cheek.
After what feels like hours, the car curves onto her street.
“Thank you for inviting me out, but let’s not do this again. Let’s keep your research to working hours.”
I catch her wrist before she can reach for the door handle. I’m going to make one last attempt and if she shuts me down, I’ll never flirt with her again. I’ll back off and pretend this never happened; pretend I never knew her. “Are you scared?”
She doesn’t pull away, but I feel the tension in her arm. “Scared? What do I have to be scared about?”
“Giving us a chance.” My thumb traces circles on the inside of her wrist, feeling her pulse spiking.
“I know when you kissed me back there, you felt a spark. We were so good together. I don’t know why you ghosted me back then but if you want to make it up to me, consider giving us a chance, please. ”
She looks at me, and I can’t tell what the hell she is thinking. Her poker face is that fucking good.
“Come upstairs with me,” she blurts out.
I blink twice, certain I’ve misheard. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Her voice drops lower. “My apartment. Tonight. We deal with whatever this is, and then we can focus on work for the remaining three weeks.”
The car seems to shrink around us. My collar tightens against my throat as her words sink in. “Minji, I’m not looking for a one-night stand.”
“Really?” The corner of her mouth quirks up. “Your wandering eyes all week suggested otherwise. I’ve noticed every glance, Aaron. So, let’s be adults about this. One night, no strings, no awkward morning after.”
Heat floods my body. Desire warring with something that feels uncomfortably like disappointment. I want her, God knows I do, but not like this—not as some inconvenience to be handled and filed away.
“No.” I let go of her wrist.
Her composure cracks, just for a second. “No?”
“I don’t want to be an item on your to-do list.” I shift away, the leather seat creaking beneath me. “When we’re together again, it won’t be because—”
“Good night.” She cuts me off, yanking the door open.
“Minji—” But she’s already on the sidewalk, the hem of her pink dress disappearing through revolving doors.
My phone buzzes. Axel, wondering where I’ve gone. I stare at the empty space she left behind, the ghost of her perfume still hanging in the air.
“Where to now, sir?” The driver’s eyes find mine in the rearview mirror.