The warm afternoon sun glinted off the rooftop café where Joon-ho and Harin sat enjoying their lunch. He leaned back in his seat, half-listening as Harin chattered between bites of galbi rice, her sunglasses pushed up into her hair, cheeks glowing with contentment.
"Feels like a real date," she mused, sipping her iced citron tea. "When was the last time we had one?"
Joon-ho smiled, eyes resting on her lazily. "Feels like yesterday, every time I see you."
Harin rolled her eyes, but the grin tugging at her lips betrayed her pleasure. "Sweet-talker. Bet you say that to all your girls."
"Only to the ones who wear my shirts without panties."
She kicked him gently under the table.
After lunch, they strolled into the nearby mall, walking hand-in-hand through air-conditioned corridors filled with music and chatter. Harin tugged him toward a boutique and began browsing through racks of dresses and summer tops. She tried on a few outfits, coming out of the dressing room twirling, sashaying—watching his reactions, her eyes glinting with mischief.
But it was in the lingerie store that things took a turn.
She came out in a sheer red set—barely-there lace hugging her curves, straps framing her hips like artwork. She arched her brow as she spun for him.
"Well?"
Joon-ho's gaze swept over her body with heat. "You'll break the villa bed in that."
Harin gave a sultry smirk. "Guess we'll need a sturdier bed."
At the counter, the young cashier scanned the items, eyes flicking from Harin to Joon-ho, then back again.
"You're a good boyfriend," she said, smiling as she packed the delicate pieces. "She's lucky."
Harin beamed, looping her arm around his. "He's the best."
Shopping bags in hand, they strolled out of the mall, stopping only for a cone of soft-serve ice cream, which Harin insisted on feeding to Joon-ho with exaggerated care. The whole trip was domestic, relaxed, playful—and yet thick with anticipation.
By evening, they were heading back to the villa, streetlights flickering to life outside the car window. Harin leaned back, sighing contentedly.
"I think I'll wear the red set tonight," she murmured.
Joon-ho didn't answer.
He just reached over, sliding his hand up her bare thigh as he drove.
Meanwhile, at the training center, Ji-hye was toweling off after her post-practice shower, hair still damp, body warm and flushed from hours of drills and scrimmage. The memory of the previous night's massage crept into her thoughts—how Joon-ho's hands had pressed into her skin, how her moans had slipped out without control, and worse, how she'd kissed him.
Her cheeks turned crimson under the cool breeze from the locker room AC.
What am I even doing...
Her hand pressed unconsciously to her lips.
She hadn't had sex in months. Not since that messy breakup. And now… she was getting hot just thinking about a massage.
Shaking her head, she hurried to dress. But just as she reached for her bag, Coach Min's voice rang out.
"Team, quick meeting!"
Ji-hye joined the others in the conference room. The coach ran through the latest preparation plans for the Olympic qualifiers—updated schedules, diet regimens, sleep tracking, pressure management.
By the time the meeting ended, it was nearly 9 PM.
She stepped into the night, pulled her hoodie over her still-damp hair, and called a cab. The streets were quieter now, headlights washing over wet pavement.
She finally reached the villa.
The lights inside were still on.
Ji-hye paused at the door, her hand on the knob. Her heart thudded once, hard.
She thought of Harin. Of Joon-ho. Of the way his hands had moved over her body like he knew her better than she knew herself.
Was tonight going to change something again?
She took a breath.
And stepped inside.