In the Game of Love

Chapter 17

Sunlight streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the meeting room in a warm glow. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts from the nearby kitchenette, mingling with the sharp scent of whiteboard markers as the senior engineer on my team scribbles out technical specifications for our new user-safety feature.

I take a sip from my "World's Okayest Employee" mug – a gag gift from Matt – and try to focus on the diagrams sprawling across the board. But my mind keeps drifting back to the weekend.

Everything that happened after we left the party to go to Sonny's place keeps replaying like scenes of a highlight reel I can't turn off.

Our night together, waking up in his arms, the tender kiss he placed on my forehead before padding barefoot to the kitchen – it all feels like a dream. The way the morning light caught his messy bedhead, turning it into a halo of soft spikes. Even the memory of his awful, tough-as-nails omelet – which I ate every last bite of anyway – brings a smile to my face.

He insisted on driving me home himself, despite my protests. As I was about to get out of the car, drowning in one of his hoodies and track pants too big for me, he leaned in for one last kiss. "I really don't want to send you off," he whispered against my lips in Korean. My stomach flips with an indescribable yearning from just recalling the moment.

I can still feel my gut churning with a weird yearning, just recalling the moment.

I bite my lip, fighting back a smile as I recall how I floated through Sunday in a love-drunk haze. Because that's what this is, isn't it? Love. The realization both thrills and terrifies me. I'm completely, irrevocably in love with him.

A ping from my laptop snaps me out of my reverie. It's a message from Matt: "Lunch?"

I glance at my watch – it's almost noon. Time has a funny way of slipping by when you're lost in thought.

'I think we have all the details here,' I tell my team, rising to gather my things. 'Why don't you write up a doc and we can refine it async?' The team nods in agreement, already packing up their laptops.

As I make my way down to the cafeteria, the scent of freshly baked pizza and pasta sauces wafts through the air, making my stomach growl in anticipation. The moment I step through the doors, I spot a hand waving enthusiastically.

It's Matt, grinning ear to ear, his blonde curls even more unruly than usual. There's a mischievous glint in his eye that I can't quite decipher.

I weave through the crowd, dodging trays and narrowly avoiding a collision with a young girl, probably an intern, balancing three cups of soda – why choose when everything is free.

As I approach, Matt's grin widens impossibly further, reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat. I raise an eyebrow, silently demanding an explanation, but he just shakes his head, barely containing his amusement.

We squeeze into a corner table – there's barely any space open with the lunchtime rush in full swing. The buzz of conversation and clinking cutlery creates a cocoon of white noise around us.

'So,' Matt drawls, rocking back and forth in excitement, 'looks like you're still in the dark, but congrats on making national news.'

My stomach drops, a rush of adrenaline flooding my system. For a split second, panic grips me. Then understanding starts to dawn. Of course, this was bound to happen, wasn't it?

I knew this was coming, but somehow the reality of it has still caught me off guard. I'm not the one to seek out gossip mags and being in the love-drunk state I was yesterday, I didn't even check Twitter.

'Show me,' I manage to say, aiming for nonchalance but probably missing by a mile. My heart thunders in my chest.

Matt pulls out his phone, tapping and swiping before holding it up triumphantly. 'Son Heung-min's Mystery Woman: Football Star Debuts New Girlfriend," he reads aloud, waggling his eyebrows.