..MAN in Three piece..

4-(☉｡☉)!

Jungkook's pov

MY DAY HAD BEEN TAKEN OVER by pair of faceless smooth collarbones and a feather tattoo. Worse, they could talk.

Out of all the fucking things that he could have texted to me along with those body shots, he had to choose those words. He had to send the one message that would undo me and completely fuck up the rest of my day. Perhaps my week.

Your mother should be ashamed of you.

Fuck you, Kim Taehyung. Fuck you, because you're right.

This strange man had gotten under my skin.

He'd said his name once through the intercom, but it stuck with me. Normally, names went in one ear and out the other.

Kim Taehyung.

Well, technically, his full name was Kim You're Welcome Asshole Taehyung.

How did he get my phone?

The text continued to haunt me as I read it over and over.

Your mother should be ashamed of you.

Each time, it made me angrier than the last, because deep down, I knew there were no truer words. My mother would have been ashamed of me, the way I treated people on a daily basis. Everyone deals with tragedy differently. After my mother died, I'd chosen to shut people out of my life, focusing all my energy on schooling and my career. I didn't want to feel anything anymore, didn't want to connect with anyone. The easiest way to go about achieving that was to scare people away. If being an asshole were an art form, then I'd mastered it. The more successful I became, the easier it was.

It was amazing what a man of my position and appearance could get away with. Almost no one called me out on my crap or questioned me. They just accepted it. In all these years, not one person had spoken to me in my place of business the way Kim Taehyung had today. Not one.

While his ballsy attitude over the intercom impressed me, I'd almost forgotten about him until Ava, the receptionist, knocked on my door and handed me my phone.

And now, hours later, I was still sitting here completely obsessed with the deep realization that came from Taehyung's words. And completely obsessed with the collarbone pouring out of a dress shirt that was the color of the devil.

Fitting.

Kim Taehyung was a little devil.

He'd left me unable to focus on work, so I canceled the one afternoon meeting I had and left the office.

Back home, I sat on my couch and sipped cognac while continuing to ruminate. Sensing that something was off with me, my West Highland terrier, Bam, just sat at my feet, not even bothering to try to get me to play with him.

My Upper West Side condo overlooked the Seoul skyline. It was dark out now, and the city lights illuminated the evening sky. The more I sipped, the brighter the lights seemed, and the more my inhibitions slipped away. Somewhere out in the vast city, Taehyung was feeling satisfied with his little act, unaware that he'd wrecked me in the process.

Staring at the image of the feather tattoo on his bare part of foot again, it occurred to me that he didn't show his face because he was probably ugly as hell. At that thought, my own laughter echoed throughout the stone cold, empty living space. I wished I knew what he looked like. I wished I had opened that office door so that I could have shut him up to his face.

My finger lingered over his name, You're Welcome Asshole. I wanted to make him feel as crappy as he'd made me. I was not beyond going there. So, I did. I answered his text.