Crazy For Your Love (Jensoo)

8| "Could You Play Along? Please?"

|Jisoo|

One year ago . . .

One minute I'm standing at the bar at Kim Brews, talking to Jin about his newest IPA, and the next someone grabs me by the shirt and molds her body to mine.

Not just someone. Jennie Kim. She balls a fist in my shirt and tugs me close as she backs against the wall. It's instinct to follow. Instinct to lean in and feel every curve of the body that's starred in a good number of my fantasies. In fact, I might be dreaming, because I've had more than a few start like this—I'm embarrassed that I'm wet already. Just. Like. That.

I'm not going to look the fool, though, so I arch a brow and play it cool. "Can I help you with something?"

She guides my head down until my lips are only a breath from hers. "Could you play along? Please?"

Play along as in . . . kiss her? Or play along as in stand here, painfully close to the mouth I dream about on a regular basis?

Her lips are bare tonight. No red lipstick or shiny gloss. Just naked pink lips so close to mine that my stomach knots with the desire to taste.

I flatten a palm against the wall behind her to steady myself. "You're going to have to be more specific."

"Pretend to be my girlfriend or . . . something?" Her gaze slices to someone across the room then back to me.

I smile slowly. "What's in it for me?"

I'm not an ass, but what she's asking is going to cost me. Every time she inhales, her breasts brush my chest, and her citrus and lavender smell is filling my head and making me think about the last time we were this close. At my family's cabin last summer, swimming in the lake. We were laughing. Flirting. I thought it'd be a good idea to pull her into my arms and kiss her. Arrogant fuck that I am, it never occurred to me that she'd react so badly when I lowered my mouth to hers—her panic more appropriate for a woman who was about to be shoved underwater than one who was about to be kissed. That memory makes me want to back up and forget how good she smells, how soft she is under the palm that's slid toward her ass of its own volition.

I yank away my rogue hand as if I've been burned. Shit.

"I'll owe you, okay? Any favor you want at the time of your choosing."

I arch a brow. "Anything?"

"Please?" That's when I see the fear in her eyes.

I swallow. "Yeah, okay. Sure." So I step closer, lean in, and tilt my head, as if we're in the middle of an intimate conversation and not two friends who have agreed to stay that way. I drag my knuckles up her side and feel her shiver under my touch. "Who is it?" I want to turn around and see him for myself—him, because I have no doubt this is about a guy—but I won't look. I'll stand here and play along. For her.

"An ex." She wraps her arms behind my neck and buries her face in my neck. I hold her close, even when Jin flashes me a questioning glance behind the counter, even when I feel the eyes of the stranger behind us.

"Jennie?"

Her beautiful skin pales at the deep male voice. I keep my body angled toward hers but slowly turn my head.

Here's a fun fact about people who lift: we notice when other fit people are around. Measure ourselves against them. And the guy staring at Jennie right now makes me feel small. He's not just built, he's musclebound in a way that reminds me of the little brother from A Christmas Story.

I don't recognize the guy as a local, but she clearly knows who he is—knows enough to want me to act as an emotional shield between them. Maybe a physical one, too.