𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 || 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐀𝐍 ||🥀

16

Mina

"So you went from a high-profile, roof-jumping assignment with a team and now you're here?" Jeonghan asked.

We were in my bed staring up at the ceiling. He was on the left side, closest to my bedroom door. Pip was curled up snoring in his armpit. I'd shoved a pillow between us to prevent any repeat performances of last night.

I hesitated, surprised by the desire I had to confess the whole truth, to tell him why we were both looking for the same man. But I squashed it. I'd already committed to the plan. I didn't need to waste energy second-guessing myself. "I needed some breathing room to think things through. There's a new job opening up. More travel. Longer jobs. It's my dream job. But..." I trailed off.

"Does your family know what you do?"

"They think I travel the country providing corporate trainings. I prefer to live my life without carrying the responsibility of other people's opinions. Especially opinions about how I should find a safer, easier way to make a pay check."

"Fair enough. What's in the box of files?"

"Jeonghan, this sleeping together thing only works if you shut up and go to sleep."

"Just turning things over in my head."

I didn't like where this conversation was going. It felt like he was forcing me into little white lie after little white lie. And I was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. So I dug into my arsenal and deployed my favourite weapon: misdirection.

"I ran into Minghao today," I announced, rolling to my side to face him in the dark.

"Here?"

Interesting. So the overprotective pain in my ass really hadn't wanted Jeonghan to know about our chat.

"No. Down out of here at a diner."

"Minghao was eating in a diner? Are you sure it was him and not some doppelgänger?"

"He didn't actually eat. He had coffee while I ate," I told him.

"What did you two talk about?"

"Don't tell me Studly Do-Right is jealous," I teased, reaching over the pillow to tickle him. Jeonghan captured my hand and brought it to his mouth.

"Damn right I am." He nipped at the pad of my index finger.

"We talked about you. I think he's worried about you."

He was silent for a beat and I could feel his worry building in the dark. "You didn't tell him anything, did you?"

"Of course not. You asked me not to. I assumed there's a reason you told the stranger next door about your panic attacks rather than your oldest friend or your brother."

"We're not strangers," he insisted, placing my hand over his chest and holding it there.

"Are we...friends then?" I asked. His chest was warm beneath my touch.

He was quiet for a long beat. "Feels like more than that," he admitted.

"But what kind of more?"

Let's see how you like annoying, uncomfortable questions, Mister.

"The kind of more that if I were in better shape, you'd be naked and there sure as hell wouldn't be a pillow between us."

"Oh."

"Oh? That's all you've got to say?"

"For now."

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