Stay the Night
He hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, yet his throat burned as if someone had forced an entire bottle of tequila straight down his esophagus.
Song Yeon-ha had no interest in remarriage or in Kevin—he knew that better than anyone—but jealousy still flared all the same. The fact that he was no different from Kevin often left him feeling utterly wretched.
To Song Yeon-ha, Go Je-yoon was not a man either.
That was why his insides were scorched.
There was no particular reason he had followed her into the hotel room. He simply wanted to stay close. The moment she slipped off her blazer he had wanted to pull her into his arms, but he settled for removing her earrings and letting his fingers linger against the soft lobe of her ear.
Even this is so soft—how much softer must the rest of her be…
The fantasy stopped there. The sound of clothes coming off in the bathroom, water striking skin and cascading down—in the end he had to touch himself in the adjoining toilet just to find relief.
In the stifling heat he undid his shirt buttons down to mid-chest. A cold wind still rode the sea breeze, rough and insistent. The shirt tails fluttered, baring his solid frame completely. Even the chill could not kill the heat.
After standing in the wind a long while, Je-yoon stepped back inside. Yeon-ha had fallen asleep on the sofa.
He perched on the armrest and studied her face.
“Go inside and sleep.”
Yeon-ha, who never slept deeply, failed even to answer; she must have been exhausted. Je-yoon gazed at her bare, full lips, then slid down from the sofa and lowered himself closer.
Just before their mouths met she exhaled a languid breath that stopped him cold. Nothing more than her breath had touched him, yet he froze as if caught in a crime. Other women left him cold, but this single soft sound sent every nerve into spasm.
“…….”
Watching her lips part a fraction more, Je-yoon pressed a brief, stolen kiss to her forehead and slowly drew back.
“You left an opening, Noona.”
He steadied his trembling breath. Yeon-ha frowned at the fleeting contact and shifted; one long leg slipped free, the robe parting to mid-thigh. Carefully, Je-yoon gathered her into his arms.
The sensation of being lifted made her eyelids flutter.
“Ah… Je-yoon.”
Through the haze she looked at him, then closed her eyes again and murmured his name. She ought to have told him to put her down, but her body felt like lead.
“You must have been tired. You fell asleep on the sofa.”
Her restless movement made the robe gape further, baring the upper swell of her breasts. Je-yoon swallowed hard; strength flooded his arms.
“Tired… yes… sleep…”
The words dragged, thick with drowsiness.
Je-yoon stared at the soft rise of her chest. She did not seem to be wearing a slip. The certainty that she was bare beneath the robe nearly snapped his reason. His gaze traced her body of its own accord.
She fell asleep the moment she stepped out of the bath… she never even put on underwear, so below…
The thought made him tip his head back and stare at the ceiling.
“She never showed that bastard this, right?”
Everything looped back to Kevin. If he had never seen her like this, his imagination would have ended here—but Yeon-ha’s defenselessness dragged him into a bottomless mire.
Click. The door shut.
“…….”
Yeon-ha covered her burning cheeks with both hands. Her heart hammered. She tugged the covers down just enough to peer at the door with one eye.
Her heartbeat drowned out the hotel heater; she feared he might hear it. She gathered the blanket to her chest and hugged it tight.
While she had been in his arms she had been terrified the robe would fall open and reveal she wore nothing underneath.
Worse, something had brushed her lips in her sleep—and the instant she opened her eyes she had seen Je-yoon’s mouth. It felt as if he knew the dream she had been having alone…
Yes. I’m just startled… that’s all.
The feelings she had once known with her first love rose like heat haze.
If her heart fluttered for Je-yoon again, if that feeling had any chance of becoming love, she had to stop it by any means.
It would be no different from locking a man who could soar freely on the public’s love inside her own cage.
That, above all, she could not allow. She would not let her selfishness destroy him. These days divorce was hardly a stain, yet the person she cherished most in the world—she wanted him freer still.
Quietly she rose, shed the robe, and put on underwear and pajamas.
Everyone had their own goals and paths. She had no wish to become a stumbling block in his.
In the end she never truly slept. She tossed until dawn before her eyes finally closed.
She was sprawled on the sofa thinking of a simple snack when the phone suddenly rang—trilling loudly.
Yeon-ha cleared her throat and answered. Why would the front desk be calling?
“Yes?”
“Let’s go eat.”
“Je-yoon?”
She sat up straighter.
“You should have called my cell. You scared me.”
“You weren’t answering, Noona. I was about to knock—”
“What? No!”
“So I used the hotel phone. Come out. When I held you yesterday you were way too light. That’s not okay. Let’s get some food in you.”
“With you? Outside? Impossible. What if someone sees us?”
“Just come down. Three o’clock, VIP underground parking.”
The line went dead. Yeon-ha stared at the receiver, dumbfounded. The bedside clock read two.
Only a few hours earlier she had sworn not to become an obstacle in his life—yet she could not even understand her own heart.
She was hungry, and she was curious where he meant to take her.
I’ll think about it while I shower.
She debated the entire time she washed, still undecided even after she dried her hair and changed into comfortable outdoor clothes.
Three o’clock drew near. She hesitated at the door—then jumped at the sudden chime of the doorbell.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
Je-yoon’s voice came from the other side. He had told her to come to the parking garage—why was he here? Fearing someone might see him, she yanked the door open. The moment he stepped inside she slammed it shut.
“You can’t just show up like this.”
“There’s no one around.”
“Still…! I could have come down myself.”
“You were hesitating.”
Je-yoon closed the distance, looking down at her steadily. At the nearer range she shook her head.
“I’m already dressed. I was going to go.”
They drove the winding mountain roads in the car he piloted, arriving not at a restaurant but a private villa. U-shaped, with a jacuzzi tucked in the courtyard and floor-to-ceiling glass that framed the rolling waves like a living panorama.
She opened the glass door and sat on the beach bed beside the jacuzzi.
The four-o’clock sun turned the sea into a field of pearl-like waves. Yeon-ha’s gaze could not leave it.
Je-yoon had risen early, shopped at the nearby market and supermarket, then come here to prep everything in advance. Now he pulled fresh seafood and black pork from the refrigerator and began to cook.
After staring outside for a long while, Yeon-ha turned at the rich scent drifting through the half-open door. The once-empty table now held plate after plate of food.
Raised with infinite care by her mother and grandmother, Yeon-ha had never gone near cooking tools. Even in high school she could not boil ramen; Je-yoon had done it for her.
Later, whenever the housekeepers were off, he would cook for her—this and that.
“This is amazing! It’s the same stir-fried pork, so why does yours taste better? Hup—don’t tell the aunties. You could be a chef!”
At those words Je-yoon had nodded.
“Should I? I was thinking about it anyway.”
She had only been joking, yet he had been serious—and the memory of her younger self bouncing with excitement rose unbidden.
It really was delicious.
Yeon-ha rose and quietly crossed the stone path. As she drew closer, Je-yoon’s focused profile filled her vision. Face, then food, then face again—her eyes darted between them.
A mild sea breeze brushed past her. Whether the wind stirred her heart or it had already been unsteady, she could not tell.
Just then the cooking finished; Je-yoon lifted a plate. Spotting her, he grinned and flung the door wide, beckoning her in.
May I go inside?
Her feet refused to leave the ground. While she hesitated, the free hand that was not holding a plate reached out and drew her through the doorway.
People said the food they wanted most before dying was their mother’s cooking; Yeon-ha had never understood that sentiment.
But if anyone asked her now, she would answer without hesitation: Je-yoon’s cooking. The meal was that satisfying.
“Beer?”
Having finished cleaning up, Je-yoon offered her a can.
“I was just craving one.”
Side by side they drank and watched the sun sink beyond the horizon.
“Your cooking’s gotten even better.”
“Yeah?”
“The last time I ate it was probably right before I left to study abroad. Remember? That day you insisted on helping and I cut my finger.”
Watching her speak so calmly made his throat burn. Je-yoon drained the can in a few swallows and pulled another from the bucket.
The sunset poured over Yeon-ha from the front. Black hair fluttering, the pretty curve of her profile. Sensing his gaze, she turned and looked up at him at an angle.
I want to kiss her.
To smother the impulse he gulped more beer, pressing the cold can to his heated lips to cool them.
Oblivious, Yeon-ha snatched the can from his hand.
“You have to drive! What are you doing? That’s already two!”
“This is a pension.”
“I know that. We can just call a taxi.”
She pulled out her phone and opened the taxi app.
“Stay the night.”
His hand came down over the phone and closed around hers. She frowned up at him.
“What…?”
“You can just sleep here.”