Chapter 17. The Guy Next Door (17)

She met Lee Jaeheon again that evening.

It was right after she had closed the café and scarfed down a quick dinner at a nearby snack shop. Just as she returned home, they ran into each other—him coming down the stairs, her going up.

Both let out a small, awkward laugh.

“The café was already closed. I came to borrow the fan, sunbae.”

He reeked faintly of sweat, dressed in a dirt-stained work outfit with an artist’s apron hanging to his knees and gloves on his hands.

“Oh, I was out eating dinner. I’ll get the fan for you. It’s brand-new—never even used it. Got it as a freebie, and I don’t think I’ll need it. You can just keep it.”

“Then I’ll gladly take it.”

As he followed her back up the stairs, he let out a sigh. A simple gesture—just brushing off some dust—but it was enough to drive her crazy with awareness.

Probably because she’d finally acknowledged the emotions she didn’t want to face. That she had felt flutters for a guy younger than her—and even worse, that she didn’t hate those feelings—was a problem.

Still, she didn’t want to be the kind of woman who couldn’t read the room. Personally, she believed desire and affection were distinctly different things.

Whether what she felt was affection or simply lust, one thing was clear: it was dangerous to reveal such feelings carelessly.

It was a messy, scrambled thought process—but that’s exactly where Jung Eunkyo’s mind was at. Nonsense and floating words all jumbled together, smashing grammar as they went.

Trying to act natural, she opened the door, quickly took off her shoes, and dashed in to turn on the lights and A/C. Jaeheon hadn’t even stepped inside yet, still standing at the entrance.

As she opened the small balcony next to the kitchen—where she kept miscellaneous junk—she called out to him.

“Wanna come in and wait? If I leave the door open, mosquitoes get in.”

“Oh, I’m kinda dirty right now.”

“So what if a little dirt gets in? Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be quick.”

The balcony was long and narrow, packed with so much stuff that even one person had a hard time moving through it. As she stepped inside, she heard the front door quietly shut.

Why did that simple sound make her so nervous?

Swallowing hard, she began digging through the clutter, trying to find the fan she’d won in a store raffle last year and shoved into storage.

Then she heard his voice from the other side of the open balcony door.

“Need help?”

Turning back, her face flushed from the heat, she gave an awkward smile. Jaeheon glanced up at the top of the shelves and stepped into the balcony, standing behind her.

Already cramped, the space felt even smaller with him in it.

“You put it way up high. How were you planning to get it?”

“Oh, it’s up there?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Didn’t really have a reason to take it out…”

He stepped in closer, and his chest brushed lightly against her back.

Her body tilted forward slightly, but before she could stumble, he reached around and caught her waist, steadying her.

“Sorry, are you okay?”

Sweat trickled down her temple. Eunkyo didn’t speak, just nodded quickly. Then he reached up—without needing a chair—and effortlessly lifted down the fan box from the top shelf. A height she’d definitely need a step stool for.

“Probably better if I walk out backwards, yeah?”

His voice, laced with a laugh, fell on her like a summer rain shower. Time that had been frozen started moving again. As she slowly turned, all she could see was his chest.

“I’ll guide you. Just walk backward.”

They carefully passed one another in the narrow space—he stepped back, she moved forward.

Each time their bodies brushed, her forehead bumped near his collarbone. She couldn’t explain it clearly, but deep inside, she folded her hands in a silent prayer.

A kind of prayer she hadn’t done since kindergarten lunchtime.

‘Please, just stop trembling. Don’t turn into a fool daydreaming over some kind gesture.’

Lost in those disjointed thoughts, she finally made it to the doorway.

“Left turn here is your exit.”

“Got it. But, sunbae.”

“Yes?”

She instinctively looked up. In the dim light, the first thing she saw was his lips, curved in a slanted smile.

“Are you always this nice? You really shouldn’t treat just anyone like this.”

The hint of mockery in his tone snapped her out of it. Right. She’d forgotten—this was Lee Jaeheon.

“Just neighbors helping each other out. If I saw you as a guy, I wouldn’t have let you in.”

She answered clearly, chin slightly raised. His eyes crinkled faintly as he looked down at her.

“Ah, neighbors helping each other… I like how that sounds.”

“Anyway, you should head out. You’re drenched. If you need to, feel free to use the bathroom, too.”

Why had she said that? Was it some twisted need to prove she didn’t see him as a man?

Even though that was a lie.

Carrying the fan box, he turned with a faint smile, his brows furrowing as if mildly troubled.

That smile made her stomach drop. If there were a mouse hole nearby, she’d dive in. She was mortified.

“Anyway, just saying. Thanks for your help today. And… if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m your senior, after all. This much is okay, right?”

Her voice trailed off, the excuse lingering awkwardly.

Convinced she’d made a mess of things, Eunkyo trudged along behind him. Jaeheon put on his shoes and stepped outside the door, but then turned back as if remembering something.

“Oh, I ran into Sunggeon hyung at school today. He said the video turned out great. They’re doing a screening, too—he wants us to go together.”

“When?”

“Not sure yet. He’ll probably contact us.”

“Okay. Let’s go together, then.”

From behind the box, his eyes softened as he looked down at her. Eunkyo swallowed dryly and reached for the doorknob, her slipper squeaking slightly.

But just before the door shut, his foot slipped in to hold it open.

“I’ll come by to shower. I’ve been thinking about fixing up the studio bathroom, but now I might just come here every day.”

“Come by anytime. If I’m home, it’s fine.”

Her brain screamed no, but her mouth said otherwise.

He pulled his foot back and gave her a small nod before heading down the stairs.

Still holding the doorknob, Eunkyo stood there blankly, listening until the sound of his footsteps completely faded away.

Then she let out a long sigh, pressing her hand to her forehead.

‘Get a grip, Jung Eunkyo. Did the heat mess with your head?’

Cool air from the air conditioner swept across her back like a smack, as if to snap her out of it, whispering, “The heat you felt—yeah, it was all in your head.”

***