Chapter 166: What Doesn’t Turn You On?[June’s POV]
If you’d told me five minutes ago that I’d be sitting here with Ian Han’s head in my lap, wanting him to kiss me so badly I could taste it...first I’d have laughed in your face, then I’d have shoved a broom stick in your ass, and called you delusional.
And now? Now I want him. Not his ass... Shut up, June. I mean his lips. Just his lips. Ugh, I sound insane..
Ian Han was the last person on Earth I was suppose to want. I have spent two years loudly hating Ian Han.
Say something, June. Anything before he hears your brain melting.
"I shouldn’t have overreacted the other day you kissed me," I blurted, my voice way too soft for how fast my heart was beating.
Ian froze, then tilted his head like he was making sure he heard right. "You call that overreacting? You practically shoved me into another dimension."
I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "Exactly. I made it a bigger deal than it had to be."
"Honestly, you didn’t," he said, his eyes softened. "I shouldn’t have kissed you knowing you still care about Ren, or that you were overwhelmed that day."
"Well, that was before I found out he had a girlfriend," I scoffed, because apparently sarcasm was my only defense mechanism.
His brows pulled together. "What does that even mean?"
I rolled my eyes. "It means... whatever. Don’t overthink it."
He went quiet. Then he lifted his head from my thighs and gave this lopsided smirk.
I keep telling myself not to fall into the trap of looking at him like that, but my fingers have other plans.
"Even if I can’t compete with what you have with Ren, at least I can fight for a spot in your heart too."
"Wow, dramatic much? You rehearsed that?" I asked, folding my arms.
He only grinned wider. "That’s my Juney. I like you this way. When you roast me....it actually turns me on."
"Are you for real?" I choked out. "You get turned on by being roasted? That’s a wild fetish."
"Maybe. But I’m not lying," he said, eyes flicking down to my lips. "So I’m free to chase you, right? And if I do, just know....I go all the way."
I scoffed again. "Fine. Whatever. You’re free. But one condition."
He leaned in, looking so curious. "Say it..."
"No other girls. No cheerleaders, no random hookups. None of that crap. Just me." I folded my arms tighter, daring him to laugh.
Instead, his smirk widened into something dangerous, as he whistled. "Possessive Juney. I like that. Honestly, it’s kind of hot. Turns me on too."
I rolled my eyes. "Is there anything that doesn’t turn you on?"
"Yeah," he chuckled. "Everything that isn’t you."
I nearly fell off the bed laughing. "You’re so dramatic. Stop it. I guess i should leave before it gets...." My eyes flickered to his shorts, seeing how turned on he was.
I tried to stand up, to walk it off before my face betrayed me, but he caught my wrist and pulled me back down. "It’s late," he said. "Stay the night. It’s not a request."
I burst out laughing because the idea was ridiculous, and also tempting. "You’re kidding, right?
"What’s so funny?" he asked, pretending to be offended.
Dude, who are you fooling?
"Me stay? Why should I stay?"
He blinked. "I’m grieving, June. I’m lonely. You’re the only person who can make me not fall apart. If you leave I’ll probably cry again."
Did he just emotionally blackmail me with his own tears?
I stared at him, completely thrown off. "Are you seriously threatening me with tears?"
"Maybe," he said.
I opened my mouth, went full honest. "Oh wow. I don’t know about that. Also I don’t trust you. You might try to have sex with me."
I said it out loud. My hand flew to my mouth.
He stared at me, then actually laughed. "Wooow. Rude and honest. Since we’re being honest now, I won’t have sex with you if you don’t want me to."
Did he just indirectly say he wants to fuck me?
" I am not sleeping in your room," I declared, pretending to be firm even though my knees were doing their own weird thing.
"There are so many rooms here," he said casually. "I’ll tell John to get you the best one."
"The butler?" I asked, because now the universe had added housekeeping to this surreal script.
He nodded. "John’ll set you up. Big bed, quiet room. You’ll barely know I exist."
I sighed. "Also, I didn’t bring any of my stuff. I’d have to tell Dad I’m not coming home, and...call Ash so he thinks I’m staying at his place tonight. Can you even imagine the lies?"
Ian’s mouth twitched into that smug that made my heart race faster. "I can call Ash for you. Or I can ’accidentally’ let him know you’re with me," he said.
I snatched my phone out like it was a weapon. "No. Absolutely not. Ash is my emergency contact, not your PR stunt."
He gave me that extremely sad look. Then, softer, he said, "I just...don’t want you to leave."
Ugh. Why did that sentence make me want to fling myself at him and tackle him into his big stupid pillowcase of feelings?
I sighed and exhaled the single most grown-up decision of the night. "Okay. I’ll sleep in the guest room. You are not allowed to burst in with tissues at 3 a.m. No dramatic confessions. And John better have good pillows."
He lifted a hand like he was swearing on something sacred. "Pillows and no uninvited crying raids. Promise."
"And if you touch me without asking, I will absolutely body-slam you."
"Deal." He laughed.
I sighed, grabbed my phone and typed a one liner to Ash.
I’m at Ian’s. don’t freak.
Then I hit call, put it on speaker and shoved the phone toward Ian.
"Shush," I warned, and placed a finger on his lips.
Ash’s voice popped through. "Juney? You okay? Still thinking about Ian kiss or your towel snatching power or what?"
Ian’s mouth legit dropped open.
I rolled my eyes. "Ash," I said. "I’m fine. Change of plans, I might be in his house at the moment. He asked me to come. Don’t freak out."
Ash burst out laughing. "Juney you slut!"
My face went red. "ASH!" I hissed, clamping a finger over the speaker. "That’s not....don’t call me that on speaker!"
Ian snorted.
Ash didn’t drop it. "You are at his place? Like, right now? Tell me you’re not sleeping in the same house as... Ian Han."
"Yes, I’m literally at his house. He’s being a little emo and emotionally blackmaily so fine. I came."
"I am not emo," Ian protested, in this very small voice that made me want to squish him.
"I’m grieving, okay?"
Ash’s tone shifted to protective mode so fast. "Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t let him touch you if you’re not okay with it. You text me if anything feels weird. Promise?"
I glanced at Ian. He nodded once. "I promise," I said to Ash, then to Ian, "No weirdness. I sleep in the guest room. John’s setting it up."
Ash was quiet for a second, like he was picturing it all and then...."Fine. But send me a picture of the room. And if he tries anything....text me the safe word ’pickle’. I’ll come over."
Ian choked on a laugh. "Pickle?"