IT - 21

21. Between the Knees

“It’s nice to see you again in a place like this.”

Yoo-ri removed her hands from the nearly untouched plate and smiled brightly as she spoke. Her expression and tone were as if she were meeting an old friend, but no one in the room believed her sincerity.

“It’s been a while, Han Ji-soo.”

The back of my neck, which Tae-ha had been gnawing on just yesterday, still ached faintly. His greeting of “it’s been a while” felt too brazen. I could understand his desire to draw a line between us in front of Yoo-ri, but still.

“Hello, Executive Director.”

Ji-soo bowed her head politely and greeted him first.

Instead of returning the greeting, Eun-ho glanced at the closed door of the private room. If it weren’t for Ji-soo, he would have wanted to leave immediately.

Though a scolding would have been more fitting for Tae-ha, who had stolen the time Ji-soo and Eun-ho could have spent together, this was his younger brother’s matchmaking meeting. Regardless, Tae-ha was their superior, having met them once or twice at private gatherings.

“We were just about to leave after finishing our meal. We only came to say hello since you were dining.”

“Leaving already? Tae-ha Oppa barely talks when it’s just the two of us, so it gets boring. Ji-soo, stay and chat with me. There’s a lot of delicious food here too.”

With a relaxed smile, Tae-ha set down the glass he was holding and gave Ji-soo a silent look, urging her to sit.

“Just one more drink. It’s not a big deal, right?”

Right, it’s not a big deal. Ji-soo wanted to show Tae-ha, who was sitting across from her, that she was completely fine, unaffected by anything. As she sat down first, Eun-ho reluctantly took a seat beside her.

“What’s your relationship?”

As expected, Yoo-ri asked in a lively voice, her eyes curving into crescent moons. Tae-ha gripped his wine glass, anticipating Ji-soo’s denial of any relationship in front of Eun-ho.

The firm fingers holding the stem of the wine glass felt like they were tightening around Ji-soo’s throat, and she swallowed dryly. In reality, Tae-ha enjoyed biting or gripping her neck in bed to draw out the expressions he wanted from her.

“What relationship? We’re just colleagues in the same department.”

Eun-ho answered indifferently, his tone casual. It was the first time Ji-soo had seen him speak so dismissively to someone else.

“How close are you to be eating here together? It’s quite expensive.”

Until they entered the private room, Ji-soo had been curious about Tae-ha’s demeanor and expression when he was with his fiancée, and she had wanted to see it for herself. But as soon as she sat down, she had to admit it was a dangerously foolish curiosity.

Tae-ha’s shoe boldly slipped between Ji-soo’s legs, which were clad in flats, and settled there. It was as if he had no reservations despite his fiancée sitting beside him—or as if she were a worthless presence, incapable of imposing any restrictions or losses.

Tae-ha leaned back lazily, stretching his long legs toward Ji-soo. She couldn’t close her legs, nor could she openly spread them in response to his bold intrusion. As a look of discomfort flashed across her face, a satisfied smile spread across Tae-ha’s lips.

The person who had suggested entering this room and the person who regretted doing so were now entangled in a strange, suggestive game under the table.

As Tae-ha had warned, Ji-soo’s choice of flats today made him want to compliment her, but her casual outfit bothered him.

Jeans and a white shirt that revealed her slender arms. If Ji-soo had dressed so lightly, it meant she and Eun-ho had been actively spending time outdoors. What had they been doing? Even in a place like this, surrounded by others, Tae-ha could only see Ji-soo and couldn’t help but think about the time they hadn’t spent together.

“Anyway, it’s nice to see the people I like sitting side by side. You two look good together.”

Yoo-ri’s dry tone as she alternated her gaze between the two meant she fortunately missed the murderous expression that had briefly crossed Tae-ha’s face.

Only then did Ji-soo begin to connect the dots between Yoo-ri’s earlier casual tone and her relationship with Eun-ho. No matter how evil and eccentric Cha Tae-ha was, it was strange for him to call a company employee into a private room during a matchmaking meeting without his fiancée’s consent—unless he intended to sabotage the marriage, which involved significant benefits.

When Ji-soo’s questioning gaze turned to Eun-ho, Yoo-ri intercepted the answer.

“Ah, Ji-soo, you didn’t know? We’re twins. Eun-ho is the older brother, and I’m the younger sister, by three minutes.”

Seeing Ji-soo’s unfazed expression, Yoo-ri felt a deep pity for her twin brother. It seemed Han Ji-soo still hadn’t given Eun-ho even a shred of romantic interest or opportunity.

How ridiculous. Who do you think you are, daring to claim my other half?

“No, I didn’t know.”

“Take your time, Ji-soo.”

As Ji-soo reached for the wine bottle, Eun-ho stood up and poured her a glass. His words dripped with affectionate concern.

Amid the soft clinking of the glass being filled, Tae-ha’s cold gaze intertwined with Ji-soo’s. By now, his sharp, piercing eyes should have elicited a pretty response from her.

Though thin jeans and suit fabric separated them, the mere touch of their knees was enough to evoke the heat of the nights they had spent together.

As if the signals from below their waists had connected, Ji-soo, who had been staring at the half-filled glass, finally looked up. Her cheeks and neck were flushed with the red hue of alcohol. Her pale skin, even whiter than her white shirt, was rapidly rising and falling with her breath.

If she undid one more button, the marks he had left would be visible. He imagined Ji-soo frowning and complaining every time she saw the bite marks in the mirror.

Should I make her curse next time? I’m good at doing things that deserve it. I’ll have to bite her in more visible places, covering a much larger area. That way, she’ll know she can’t stop thinking about me. Judging by how she switched from heels to flats, I’m sure she’ll follow along without resistance if I teach her step by step.

Was she drunk, or was she simply indulging in her desires? Ji-soo pressed her knees together, squeezing Tae-ha’s leg between them. It was a warning gesture, as if to say she would tell Yoo-ri if he went too far, but he remained unfazed.

If I revealed in this situation that I’ve slept with your fiancé, I’d be the one with nothing to lose. Calmly and wisely, Ji-soo pressed her trembling fingers firmly, then picked up the wine glass.

“Team Leader Kang Eun-ho, I brought you here as a thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Since you said it’s expensive, I’m glad we came. Right?”

You’re feeling proud after coming here with this bastard? We?

Tae-ha’s faint, youthful smile vanished as he pondered how to torment Ji-soo tonight.

Ji-soo paused briefly before continuing. She must have been truly drunk on a bottle of wine to say such things—it couldn’t just be because of Tae-ha’s knee pressing against her thigh.

“You two must have something to celebrate, right? The cake, champagne, and bouquet on the table are really beautiful.”

“We’re in the middle of a matchmaking meeting.”

As if cut out from a photo, Tae-ha politely answered Ji-soo, who was deliberately ignoring him. Ji-soo watched the faint red ripples in her glass, then drank it all in one go and set the empty glass down.

It seemed she had held onto vague expectations and hopes. Among her positive thoughts, she had constructed various hypotheses. Strategic marriages among the wealthy often ended as mere rumors, and Tae-ha, who had a notorious reputation for his views on love and marriage, suddenly entering the matchmaking scene was strange.

So Ji-soo wanted to see for herself if Tae-ha and Yoo-ri were really in that kind of relationship. Even if seeing it would hurt her this much. She hadn’t expected Tae-ha to confirm it for her. The uncertain hope had been an illusion she had imposed on herself.

“Ah, congratulations.”

Ji-soo forced a cheerful tone, conscious of her surprised expression and trying not to reveal her true feelings. Yoo-ri giggled as if mocking Ji-soo’s pitiful effort.

“They say the other person’s face changes ten times before entering the wedding venue. It’s an early congratulations, but it’s always nice to hear. Right, Tae-ha Oppa?”

The man Yoo-ri called “Tae-ha Oppa” merely nodded briefly, his face expressionless. That small movement caused the ten years of unrequited love Ji-soo had carefully built to crumble.

If only she were drunk. Ji-soo wished with all her might to get so drunk here that she wouldn’t feel any thoughts or sadness, and when she opened her eyes, she’d be lying in her own room.

Her desperate will pulled her hand toward the wine. Ji-soo unconsciously reached for the bottle, almost at the same time as Tae-ha. He gracefully took the bottle from her hand and poured her a glass.

“Han Ji-soo, you handle alcohol well, don’t you?”

“I’m not bad at it. Drinking makes work and people… easier and more comfortable. Even if I make a mistake, it feels like I didn’t.”

Ji-soo’s calm eyes began to ripple with disappointment and pain, and Tae-ha didn’t miss it. He knew the “mistake” she referred to was him from that night.

“In a comfortable state, instincts you didn’t know you had can surface.”

As Tae-ha’s gaze moved to Ji-soo’s lips, they burned as if on fire. His eyes alone seemed to grab the falling strands of her consciousness and pull them back.

Ji-soo bit her lip and looked down, embarrassed. But avoiding Tae-ha’s gaze didn’t erase the memory of those heated moments. Even if her consciousness faded, her body remembered Tae-ha even more vividly.

The soft, damp sensation of their entangled bodies, the intense heat that had soaked her ears with every breath as they pulled each other closer.

Ji-soo stared at the wine Tae-ha had poured for her, then drank it all in one go. As she licked the red droplet clinging to her lip, Tae-ha’s eyes narrowed. It was the expression he always had when he desired her.

“I just had a great idea. What if Ji-soo were the bridesmaid at my wedding?”

Before Yoo-ri’s absurd suggestion could even fully leave her lips, the atmosphere at the table had already turned icy, as if they had anticipated it.