Scorching Heat

I rubbed my cheek.

The spot where her lips had landed and then left stung as if I'd been slapped. Min Chae-yoon wore a peculiar expression, her gaze clinging to me as if she were curious how I'd react.

Even so, the bewilderment wouldn't fade. It felt like I'd just watched a cat bark.

Well — this was Min Chae-yoon.

The Min Chae-yoon who, unless she was poking me or giving me a hard time, would never so much as accidentally do anything that could be called physical contact. The kind of person who never pulled anyone into a hug, never leaned in with her mouth, never initiated any touch that could be read as sexual. I'd taken it upon myself to assume Min Chae-yoon simply didn't know how to do such things. Or that, like me, she found them repulsive.

As if laughing at me for it, Min Chae-yoon tugged up just the corner of her mouth and said,

"What, was that your first time? You're acting like a blushing bride."

"Hey."

"Don't drop your voice at me. You're not even a little scary."

Then she stood up cleanly and stepped back. The unreadable expression looked cold at first glance, but I was certain. That was a face with nothing particular on her mind.

"I'm leaving."

"Just like that?"

"If I keep poking, you'll get pissed. And I'm hungry. If you're going to call someone over at lunchtime, have the decency to at least buy a sandwich."

"Might as well go on a diet while you're at it."

"Hilarious. I'm a perfectly standard build."

With that, she left without looking back.

"Ha. Unbelievable. Ha."

First kiss?

As if. Of course I'd already gotten the kiss experience out of the way in kindergarten. I didn't remember it exactly, but I was sure I had.

I'd been told I was pretty and handsome so many times since childhood it was exhausting. I didn't know who sat next to me, but surely some little girl had kissed me of her own accord, or at the very least a kindergarten teacher had given me a peck on the cheek for being cute. There was no way they'd let a tame, pretty little prey like me slip away.

"Ha. She could've at least waited to hear me out."

The excuses that rose too late only circled the tip of my tongue. Even if I'd said them, Min Chae-yoon would've just laughed at me scathingly — but I hated even more that I'd frozen up like an idiot. A kiss. What even was that.

Just contact between mucous membrane and skin. An expression of affection. An act not all that different from one hand touching another.

I knew that, intellectually. I rubbed my forearm. Just imagining it made my skin crawl.

The thought of anyone else coming close was horrific even as a hypothetical, but with Min Chae-yoon — maybe because I was reasonably used to her — there wasn't much revulsion. Her breath in the moment she'd leaned in hadn't been disgusting, and her fine-textured skin, the curve of her cheek, those dense eyelashes — none of it had been repulsive. That was why I'd chosen Min Chae-yoon.

Because if it was Min Chae-yoon, who'd clung to me so persistently since we were kids, I wouldn't feel nauseated.

But that was that, and being startled was being startled.

Right. I'd just frozen because I was surprised.

Because I'd felt threatened by things like the long hair that had suddenly spilled over my face, the air that had risen to match her body temperature, the eyes looking down at me.

Fearless Min Chae-yoon. Guts hanging right out of her belly. Doesn't even know men are supposed to be scary, just climbing right on top of people — climbing on top of who, exactly?

The wrist that had braced against the armrest had been unusually slender. I'd expected it to be sturdy, given she was a woman who went around beating people up, but it was surprisingly delicate. Right — Min Chae-yoon did get called pretty, looking like that. I couldn't relate to it at all, but there wasn't anything about her appearance that would earn a bad review. Her single-lidded eyes were large, with a clean, open shape; her limbs were long, and her neck was long like a deer's.

Even so, I'd never once evaluated Min Chae-yoon as pretty or cute. Well, of course not. That was Min Chae-yoon.

Just Min Chae-yoon.

Min Chae-yoon had an uncanny, almost ghostly quality. She could easily tell whether I'd get angry, whether I wouldn't, and if I would, exactly when. Her instincts were sharp as a beast's. Combined with that shameless, audacious streak, she might've made a fortune if she'd gone into gambling or business.

And with a personality like that, she'd be good at acting, too. Thinking about it again, there was no one better than Min Chae-yoon as a partner for this ridiculous charade.

She was the only human I could trust, and the only person I could even remotely call a friend. Yeah, well. I didn't want to admit it, but she was also the only person who knew me well.

The strength drained from me, and I slumped back against the sofa as if lying down. Exhaustion washed over me.

A fake relationship.

It pissed me off that I had to stoop to such a ridiculous act, but this was a rational solution. More precisely, it was the only option.

The situation was that bad.

"Be careful how you conduct yourself. There are plenty of people who could take your place."

"What exactly do you mean by that."

"It's not my opinion, but there are still a great many conservative people in this country. And the family elders want a successor who's beyond reproach."

"Isn't that a sexist remark?"

"How remarkably late of you. It's not discrimination. It's distinction."

And a few seconds later, my father added with a smile,

The fact that my father — a man who would never put stock in a baseless rumor — had been testing me meant that he, too, had already been misunderstanding me in that, goddamn, that kind of way.

A homosexual? Me?

How does a man run a corporation as chairman when he has eyes in his head and still can't use them? Did I — did this me — look like some bastard who couldn't stand women and was crazy for men? Based on what?

This was all because of the second daughter of Hyungwon Foods, whom I'd met two months ago, running her mouth.

Damn woman. Scurrying up to someone else's father — what the hell did she whisper to him.

If she was going to do that, she should've gone after my father, not me.

My father, who looked like a gentleman on the surface but was actually crazy about women, would've gladly taken her as a mistress. A shame, really.

My father would toss me in front of women whenever he got bored. I understood. To him, I was a child with quite a few uses. The other side, shoving their well-raised daughters at me, had the grand ambition of making me their son-in-law if I just fell for the girl — so we were all playing an equally transparent game.

So the humiliation of having even my remaining holidays and evenings stolen from me was a humiliation I had to endure as the heir to a corporation.

"Even if you happen to find a woman you like, don't lay a hand on her."

"Weren't these meetings arranged so I could find a woman I like?"

"A marriage partner must be chosen with care."

Every woman I'd met was the daughter of a prominent Korean corporation. And yet my father spoke as if none of them were satisfactory. He was probably calculating to sell me off at the highest price once my value had fully ripened.

Of course. If you wanted to become the daughter-in-law of Gangju, one of Korea's foremost conglomerates, you'd have to pay a commensurate price.

So there was no particular need for any kind of relationship between a man and a woman.

Sitting across from someone and eating was one thing, but there was no need to drink, and no reason to offer kindness beyond courtesy. Even so, I'd answered most of that woman's questions in good faith, and had my driver take her home safely.

Apparently that kindness had wounded her pride.

I'd known from the moment she leaned across the table, vulgarly emphasizing her cleavage, or pretended to stumble and clung to my arm, trying to induce contact. She seemed quite confident in her figure, but it wasn't particularly attractive to me. I had no idea where I was supposed to find the appeal.

What was it she'd said — that the night view from this hotel was so beautiful? Ridiculous. So what.

"If you want to see it that badly, it's not too late. Why don't you book a room? Shall I make the call?"

"Excuse me?"

"There should still be a suite available."

The face that had been dropping subtle seductions flushed scarlet and twisted.

That actually made her somewhat more bearable.

I'd already spent my precious time eating with her — did I also have to look at the night view together? The moment we entered a room, night view my ass. She'd immediately start stripping off whatever scraps of fabric she was wearing or draped in, and I couldn't take that kind of risk.

When her eyes welled up as if she were about to cry, I promptly stood and announced I'd be leaving first. Women, once they started crying, generally didn't stop, and they even expected everyone around them to soothe them as if that were only right. Just how high a price were they trying to put on a single tear? Wasn't it nasty, that mindset of believing that if they just cried, everything they wanted would come true?

I believed I'd navigated her trap well.

I'd predicted that she'd go home, cry to her loving parents, and complain, Kang Sa-eon said he doesn't like me! She wouldn't be able to say she'd openly propositioned me to book a hotel room — or even if she did, she wouldn't be able to pick a fight over my refusal.

But that woman exceeded my expectations.

She went around saying that Kang Sa-eon, who wouldn't even look at her, was either impotent or definitely gay.

"She's insane..."

And because of that crazy woman, I had to pay Min Chae-yoon money to do this ridiculous thing.

Starting with my goddamn mother, then my nightmare of a grandmother, and now even a woman I'd only had dinner with a couple of times.

It was horrific.