Chapter 11. The Guy Next Door (11)

Eunkyo tilted her head slightly and casually brushed Jaeheon’s hand away. It had been an unexpected touch, but she remained unfazed—like someone long accustomed to casual contact.

“This much dries quickly. Want me to open the wine?”

Jaeheon rubbed the fingers that had brushed her skin just moments ago, then flashed a soft smile as he picked up the corkscrew.

“I’m probably better at it.”

“Why do you think that? I like wine too, you know.”

“I used to work at a wine bar when I studied abroad. There were days I opened dozens of bottles.”

“Oh, then that means you’re better at it, Lee Jaeheon.”

Eunkyo pushed the bottle toward him. He squinted playfully as he worked the corkscrew.

“I’ve been meaning to say… you switch gears really fast, sunbae.”

“I get that a lot. I’m not a fan of unnecessary tension.”

Jaeheon pulled out the cork with smooth ease. He really was good at it.

‘What wasn’t he good at?’

“You’re also not great at saying no. Am I right?”

She wasn’t sure if he was asking her or talking to himself, so she simply shrugged in agreement.

“You know you’re kind of weird, right?”

As he set the wineglass in front of her, his long lashes lifted—and he locked eyes with her, gaze unwavering.

No intention of looking away.

And in that look, Eunkyo understood why the women at the dinner had kept giggling at his every word.

“Jaeheon-ssi, do you… know me?”

“Is that a question?”

“Yeah. The way you talk to me, it doesn’t feel like this is the first time.”

She knew how cliche the question sounded—like something from a cheap rom-com: “Have we met before?”

Jaeheon chuckled as he served her some pasta.

“Of course I know you. Jung Eunkyo. Thirty-one. Kind, thoughtful, talented. A lit major sunbae.”

“…Sunbae?”

He took a slow sip of wine, brows tightening as he savored the taste.

“My hyung told me. I mean, Sunggeun hyung.”

“Oh… sunbae did….”

“Why? Don’t you know me too?”

“Not exactly… You just remind me of someone.”

Not just someone—her ex. But she didn’t need to go into all that. It wasn’t like they looked alike, just the voice… the vibe. She raised her wineglass, about to drink, when Jaeheon suddenly reached out and took it from her.

His face came close—startlingly so.

“It needs to open up a bit more. Still too tight…”

He muttered, “A little bitter,” but she barely heard it.

“It’s the first time someone’s told me I look like someone else.”

Leaning in, he reached over her shoulder for the tissue box on the sofa.

The sudden closeness felt like an embrace.

It wasn’t his actions that flustered her—it was her own reaction.

The fact that a scent, a voice, could leave her dry-mouthed… that was the truly embarrassing part.

“My face isn’t exactly common.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s not your looks. Just… your voice, your presence. That kind of thing.”

He gently wiped the mouth of the bottle with a tissue, eyes cast downward.

She thought he might ask who he reminded her of—but he didn’t.

Instead, he looked at the cold, untouched pasta and let out a quiet chuckle.

“Well, now it’s too cold to even throw it away…”

Then, setting down the bottle, he muttered in a faintly annoyed tone.

“It’s cold, sunbae.”

“It’s still edible.”

“No.”

He shook his head with an exaggerated softness.

“You’ll get sick if you eat stuff like that. Let’s eat something else, sunbae.”

***