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Catching him off guard, he trips over his own foot and lands sideways on the sofa. “What the fuck, dude?” he slurs.
“Yeah, what the fuck. You’re drunk,” I say as plainly and angrily as I can muster. “What the fuck.”
“Why are you caring now?” he throws back at me.
“I always cared. You’re my best friend. Why are you drinking again? And don’t tell me some bullshit that you needed something sweet.”
Bobby gets on his feet, though wobbly, and he stares at me with bloodshot eyes. “I love you, man. Didn’t you know that I love you?”
I don’t know what to say to that. Lyric was right. And in some inadvertent way, Ron tried telling me too, but I didn’t listen. And now, I’m standing on treacherous ground, afraid that if I tell him the truth I’ll lose my best friend forever.
We’ve been friends since third grade. Different as friends could be, but we bonded over my salami sandwich and his peanut butter and jelly during lunchtime. Then over music, adding Danny, Connor and Callum to our friendship a few years later, but we stayed close—grew even closer than ever. But now, as I look at my childhood friend, I have to be honest with him.
“Bobby, man, you’re my best friend. I love you too… But not in that way,” I say as gently as possible. “I’m in love with Lyric.”
A growl tears out of him. “I fucking knew it. I knew you fell for him, but I didn’t want to admit it. Forget it. I’m not going to Korea. I need a break. From this band. From you.” Bobby then storms out of the condo, toward the elevator.
I try to stop him, but even with alcohol in his system, Bobby’s a strong motherfucker.
By the time our argument wakes the rest of the guys and they race out of their bedrooms and into the hallway, Bobby is gone. And I’m left staring at my other friends in misery.
“What’s going on between you and Bobby?” Danny asks, blurry eyed.
“I think I just lost my best friend.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lyric
“So, who’s Rafe?” my sister asks while spooning rice into her mouth.
How can I explain who Rafe is? I mean, I can be straight up honest and tell her everything that happened from meeting the band at the hospital where I worked, to being hired by the band’s manager, and then hooking up on the down low with Rafe soon after I started working for the band. Then I could explain how Rafe followed me to Korea for another booty call.
Though it might have started off that way, by the time he showed up at Halmeoni’s house, Rafe’s true reason for coming to Korea began to show. And as his days here passed, our attraction became far more than I wanted to admit. I like the way he thinks, the way he challenges me. No man, other than my own father, has done that. And when Rafe looks at me with a smile that lights up his already beautiful face, I melt inside.
I fell for that smile when I saw it at my first Warrior Black concert, as I watched that man play his Fender like the instrument was a physical part of his body. It was mind blowing.
Warrior Black’s lead guitarist has a romantic side, too, even if he denies it. And my deep-seated infatuation for the man is growing into love. Can I say that out loud? Heck no. But I can at least be candid with my sister with the details.
So I tell her how I met Rafe and the band. Then I tell her that we’ve been seeing each other casually for a while.
“I can’t believe it. All this time we’ve been talking and you didn’t tell me you have a boyfriend.”
“I had to keep it a secret. I was working for them,” I defend, before sipping at my water.
“Who would I tell, Oppa?” She rolls her eyes. “Anyway, you love him—I know it. I want to meet him,” she says loudly.
“Shhh. What did you not understand? I have to keep this quiet.” I quickly look around, but nobody in the cafeteria is paying attention to us.
“When?” she pushes, then finishes her meal.
“They are having a show at Club FF this Saturday.”
He Sook straightens in her seat. “Really?”
I blow out a solemn breath and meet her eyes. “Father set it up.”
“Oh.”
