The Kiss

Chapter 19

Lisa collapsed onto Taehyung's bed. After her first three sexual encounters, she'd been convinced intercourse wasn't for her. It had been messy, at times painful, and extremely uncomfortable. Right now, it was all she could think about.

Her body throbbed from the force of her craving, aching to be filled, and held, and . . . spoken to.

She grinned as she recalled what he'd said. Did other people laugh during sex?

She tapped her fingers on the bed as she waited, but patience had never been one of her strong suits. She was a person of action. She hated wasting time. And she hadn't finished investigating Taehyung's apartment.

She lowered her feet to the floor, grabbed her glasses, and pulled his shirt on, smiling to herself when the tails fell to her knees. The non-French seams bothered her skin, but his smell made up for the irritation. Besides, she wouldn't be wearing this for long.

A peek inside his closet filled her with vast contentment. Yes, it rocked her world. All of his beautiful suits and shirts were perfectly lined up, organized by colour, fabric sheen, and stripe width. She trailed her fingers over the sleeves of his suit jackets before she turned and considered his dresser. She wanted to open the drawers and see how he kept his socks, but that seemed intrusive. What if he caught her snooping? Would he think she was searching for something? Was she searching for something? Maybe she was, but not for anything in particular. She just wanted to understand him better.

She padded out of his bedroom, walked past his TV—she'd already seen most of the titles there and had stuffed Laughing in the Wind in her purse— tracked her fingertips over the cold surfaces of all the ordered dumbbells on the rack by his workout bench, slammed her fist into his punching bag, and then rubbed at her knuckles because that had hurt.

A look in his fridge told her he cooked regularly. It was filled with Asian cooking sauces with mysterious labels, fresh produce, and all sorts of healthy things Lisa had no idea what to do with. There were a few containers of the yogurt she liked, though.

As she ambled over to admire the plant on his dining table, the papers on top of his metal filing cabinet caught her eye. Bills, from the look of them.

And Taehyung had money problems.

She snuck a glance at the front door, but it remained shut. She perked her ears, listening for the sound of his footsteps. Nothing.

Her heart pounded. She knew this was a violation of privacy. She shouldn't.

She unfolded the top bill and read it as fast as she was capable. Just an electric bill. Less than a hundred dollars a month. She was about to fold it back up when she noticed the name on the bill. Kim Taehyung.

A strange pain pierced her chest. He hadn't trusted her with his real name.

She grimaced. If she didn't know who he was, she couldn't stalk him after things ended. She put the bill back the way she'd found it, but even with how bitter she felt, she couldn't help scanning the other one on the file cabinet. A medical bill from St. Mary's Hospital. It wasn't addressed to him, however. The name on it was Mrs. Kim Bo-young.

Lisa snatched it up and read the itemized list of procedures: CAT scan, MRI, X-rays, blood draws, blood tests, et cetera. The total came to a staggering $12 556.89. (KRW 17 203 692.71)

Wasn't insurance supposed to cover these things?

She pressed an unsteady hand to her forehead. Had his mom gotten sick without health insurance? Was Taehyung paying her medical bills? How was he paying . . .