Owning You - A Na Jaemin Fanfic

25. Knowledge

The library is empty, except for the crusty-faced librarian standing behind the checkout counter glaring at two students who are making out.

The clock reads 12:00 on the wall.

Jaemin said to meet him in ten minutes. I am early by five. I decide to take a stroll to the fiction section to see if there is anything worth checking out. Jaemin finds me there a few minutes later.

"Haeri." My heart does a little gallop. I turn to face him.

There he is, strolling up to me with such ridiculous confidence that I want to stick my foot out and trip him; lanky, laconic, his pale brown hair longish, streaked with gold. His hands are tucked casually into the pockets of his pants.

"Jaemin," I nod at him coolly.

He walks down the aisle next to me and comes back carrying a chunky novel in his hand. "Try this. It's my favorite book." I look at him warily before plucking it from his fingers. Great Expectations. I have never read it. "You're kidding?"

He grins. "Do you think that because I play basketball, I'm illiterate?" Well...

"Why did you ask me to come here?"

"I thought that you might be more comfortable meeting me here." He perches himself on the edge of a table. "Did you think that I wouldn't want to collect on our bet?" 

"I asked you to miss the shot. I didn't say I would go out with you if you did." 

"Really? I don't quite remember it that way." He narrows his eyes and cocks his head, pretending to be confused.

"You will go out with me, Haeri, because as much as you hate to admit it, you were wrong about me..." My mouth opens and closes.

Holy shit, I can't breathe. He's staring at my lips.

"I...uhhh..."

"No," he cuts me off. "No excuses. I'm taking you out on a date."

"Okay." I shut my eyes and inhale deeply. "A deal's a deal."

"Friday night, eight o' clock." He stands. He is so tall. I back up a step, remembering that night, his hand on my face, his breath on my neck.

He starts walking away and then stops. "Haeri?"

"What?"

"I'm going to kiss you. Just so you know." His dark eyes drop to my mouth for a second, and then he smiles. His smile is slow and lazy and dangerous.

"Maybe, I'll kiss you first, Na Jaemin," I flutter my lashes. He lets out a sort of strangled choke.

I hear his laughter echo across the library as he leaves.

Friday night.

At exactly seven fifty-five, the doorbell rings.

My mother opens the door.

"Ah, Jaemin. How nice to see you," she smiles graciously at him, like a queen.

"Auntie." His voice is smooth as velvet, his face creased in a charming smile. He bows low over her hand. Her smile widens. Her eyes soften. How handsome he looks tonight.

"Haeri."

"Jaemin."

We smile at each other politely. But our eyes meet for a moment, a whole ocean of unspoken between us.

"I won't have her back too late," I hear him say to my mother, pretending to be the good, nice boy he's not.

"Oh, keep her out as long as you like," she says coolly. Trust my mother to come up with that. "After all, you are engaged," and she laughs, a light, tinkling sound, so at odds with Suzy's mum's loud and booming laugh.