Wild One | Bbangsaz

Chapter 16

Minji's

It's the last full day of our New York trip, and I'm torn. On the one hand, I'm grateful to be almost done with these stupid meetings, because I was sick of them about five seconds after the first one began. But it also means that Hanni and I will soon have to part ways again.

I try not to think about the moment that this arrangement will be over for good. But it's coming closer and closer no matter what. When she's finally knocked up and doesn't need me anymore ... I don't know what I'll do.

The meetings drag on until I start to wonder if someone sabotaged all the clocks in the room. Finally, the representatives from the distribution company rise to their feet and say good-bye, and I tear out of there like my ass is on fire.

I head back to the hotel and walk into our room with a weary sigh of relief. "Thank Christ that's all over. You have no idea how glad I am to be ba—"

Hanni looks up from the vanity mirror where she sits with her hairbrush in hand. I stop to admire the view she's so generously treated me to. She's wearing heeled boots and a long suede skirt in deference to the crisp weather, but her top half is adorned with only a lacy black bra.

She quirks her eyebrow at me, smirking ever so slightly. "I take it you like what you see."

"I always do." I lean against the wall and flash her a lewd grin. "Don't stop on my account. Go on, I'll just enjoy the show."

She finishes brushing her hair and picks up one of the many makeup jars and palettes scattered in front of her. "As you can see, I'm running late getting ready for dinner."

I tilt my head. "You do your hair before putting on your shirt?"

"I left it for last so I wouldn't get makeup all over it. Women do that." She starts brushing beige powder all over her face.

"Hmm." It makes sense. I just never would have thought of it on my own. I've seen plenty of women dressing or undressing, but never readying themselves for a date. I realize that I kind of like seeing Hanni this way. It feels oddly ... intimate. Domestic.

After I've watched her put on blush, eyeshadow, and lipstick, I ask, "Where do you want to go tonight? If you don't care, I was thinking steak." I'm in the mood for seared cow, and I feel like treating Hanni to someplace upscale.

"Steak sounds great. Do you know a good place?" She blinks as she carefully applies mascara.

"Not really, but we can ask the front desk."

She stands up. "There, I'm done. Sorry for the wait." She leans toward the bed to pick up a dark red blouse.

"Wait." I cross the room and reach out to caress her breasts through her bra.

She sucks in her breath almost too quietly for me to hear. Almost. "H-hey ..."

I bend down to kiss first one breast, then the other, and straighten up to peck her on the cheek, careful not to smudge her makeup. "All right. I'm satisfied ... until later tonight."

She laughs, though her cheeks are a little pinker than before. "Okay, horndog, I'm putting the boobs away now." She shrugs into the blouse and buttons it up.

After asking the concierge for a recommendation, we get into a cab and head to what he claimed was the best steakhouse in the area. We both order bacon-wrapped filet mignon medallions and quickly absorb ourselves with flirting, debating about books and movies, and retelling funny anecdotes from our younger years. I love the way her sharp tongue and even sharper wit keep me on my toes. The waiter's return barely breaks our stride; we keep chatting and laughing as we eat, completely comfortable together.