Chapter 13. The Guy Next Door (13)

Early in the morning, espresso pooled like honey in the portafilter and dripped into a small cup.

She wasn’t a coffee expert, but Eunkyo had heard that Italians added sugar to their espresso to cure hangovers. And she was currently testing whether that method really worked.

“Are you out of your mind?”

Kim Haeda, always extreme in thought, looked at her with disbelief as she added sugar to her espresso.

“I’m not crazy. I drank last night. Just trying to sober up.”

“If that’s the case, have some bean sprout soup instead. You can barely handle an Americano—what are you trying to do with espresso, faint?”

“Well, still…”

But as said, Kim Haeda was an extreme person. Before Eunkyo could stop him, he snatched the espresso and poured it over ice, making a mild iced coffee.

Eunkyo frowned—she wasn’t a fan of sweet Americanos.

“How much did you drink? And with who? Alone?”

Here we go again, the interrogation. Thanks to the ice-cold coffee, her chaotic thoughts felt a bit clearer.

Of course, that didn’t mean what happened in the early morning would simply be erased.

“I’ll just sit for a bit before coming out. My head is pounding.”

“Why don’t you just take the day off?”

“No, I can’t. Not right before a scheduled day off.”

“Tch. Fine. Rest until I call you.”

With a cheeky wink, Eunkyo handed over the counter to Haeda and slipped into the baking room.

The savory scent of butter and the sticky sweetness of blueberry compote boiled with sugar greeted her.

“Ha…”

‘Why now, of all times?’

She sighed deeply, dragging her hands down her face. Fingers splayed, she stared blankly at the beige muslin curtain.

What had brought her down to Lee Jaeheon’s studio in the early hours was a tragic combination of alcohol and nosiness.

Her reason was simple.

She knew the basement studio didn’t have air conditioning, and the weather forecast had warned of sweltering tropical nights.

It must’ve been unbearable down there. Alcohol tends to give people a false sense of intimacy, after all.

She felt genuinely sorry that Lee Jaeheon, who had only come to return her belongings, ended up spending the night in that dusty studio.

So she had intended to offer him her couch instead. She didn’t have his number, so going down to bring him personally seemed like the better option.

Her reasoning was simple and logical—but the result was far from good.

“…Why were you calling my name back there?”

Eunkyo squatted down, face burning red.

She had stood before his studio door, unsure whether to knock. When the motion sensor light went out, fear started creeping in, and that’s when she knocked. But Lee Jaeheon didn’t answer, perhaps not hearing her.

Her drunkenness led her to cross a line. The door wasn’t locked, and it opened smoothly, as if freshly oiled.

The soft music lulled her into a false sense of calm. But the sight that greeted her inside was utterly shocking.

Gone was the charming smile and sleepy expression she knew. Instead, he looked irritable, edgy—his nerves taut as he stroked himself. Oblivious to her presence, he was completely absorbed, eyes intense, a vein bulging on his forehead. Whether it was sweat or something else, the glistening sheen made him look like someone pulled straight from a movie.

Honestly, it could’ve been a high-quality 19+ adult film.

That was when she should’ve turned around. She was reminded once again that invading someone’s private space during an intimate moment comes with consequences.

Too shocked to look away, she had tried to quietly close the door when she heard her name and froze.

Everyone has a private life. He was an adult; there was nothing inherently wrong, and that was his personal space.

The problem was that she hadn’t left right away. Why had she stayed, like stagnant water in a well?

“…Pathetic.”

After crouching against the wall for a long while, Eunkyo stood up at the sound of customers flooding in and stepped back outside. Haeda glanced back mid-order, silently asking if she was okay. Eunkyo nodded.

“They have strawberries! I want strawberry cake. Should we get some to go?”

“Sunbae wasn’t in the studio. Let’s just eat here.”

“I’ll just have an iced Americano.”

A group of what looked like people in their 20s picked out cake slices and drinks, handing over their cards one by one. Frugal as ever, they each paid for themselves and sat at the largest table in the café.

“I’ll brew the coffee. You bring out the cake.”

“Okay.”

Carefully, Eunkyo plated the strawberry cake, filled with bits of fruit nestled between layers of sweet cream sponge, and placed forks for each person. Then Haeda, still making coffee, whispered,

“They’re friends of the tenant. Add some cookies on the house.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. But I think the studio’s empty today. Probably too hot to work there—still no AC.”

“Oh, right.”

Eunkyo picked the prettiest cookies and placed them on the plate, then served them with a lighter heart.

A wave of relief hit her knowing Lee Jaeheon wasn’t there. Honestly, she didn’t have the courage to face him yet. Though he probably didn’t know, she felt like a thief and wanted to run.

Tapping her heel with the end of her slingback, she tried to shake off thoughts of him and opened the notebook on the counter.

Writings stacked up from a forgotten past came to life, wrapping around her fingertips.

The memories from that day carried the scent of sun-dried laundry and the chill of monsoon rain on bare skin.

‘Touch me. So I can devour you in one bite.’

Scribbles reflect raw instincts and unfiltered thoughts. The notebook was full of them. What exactly had she been yearning for so desperately?

“What are you looking at, smiling like that?”

Kim Haeda frowned, poking her cheek, then held out his phone.

“I posted on the part-time job site yesterday and already got this many resumes. Pick five for interviews. We’re hiring one.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. You’ll be working with them more often, so you should choose.”

“Alright. Hmm… I can pick by the end of the week, right?”

“Yeah.”

Eunkyo shot a glare at Kim Haeda, who didn’t have an ounce of kindness in his tone, and shook all the lingering thoughts out of her head. But still, every now and then, Lee Jaeheon’s face flashed through her mind as she made coffee, and the heat from that dawn moment tickled her nose again.

Honestly, those days had been driving her mad—and she hadn’t seen Jaeheon for four days since then.

***