Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 36143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Everyone’s obsessed with him. His solo career at the label took off four years ago, and he’s been this perfect angel—devil if you ask me—ever since.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I was practicing. Then I got distracted by you.”
“You should have said something.” I get to my feet and start walking away.
“Wait,” he says slowly, calmly, almost in a sexual way…if that’s even possible.
I look over my shoulder and drink him in. His hair’s a light blond, his eyes blue—most likely contacts. His pink lips are a perfect pout. He’s put on some weight, and it looks good on him; he’s not as skinny as he was for his debut. I notice a small tattoo on his right hand and then one on his left biceps—not that I’m checking him out or anything.
“What?” I bark. “I’m busy.”
“That’s funny.” He laughs.
“What?”
“You’re not busy. You haven’t even debuted yet.”
I hate his words. I hate his truth. I hate his stupid Gucci bag!
I glare. “Is that all?”
He smiles. “Do you want it to be?”
I grumble “ass” under my breath and start walking out again, only to have someone shove the door open, revealing his best friend and bandmate, Ryan.
Two years ago, the label put both solo acts in a group with two other guys to create some sort of supergroup. They’ve been selling like crazy and getting close to SWT’s sales records.
Rumor has it they had a falling out and are about to disband, but who knows? People like to talk in this industry.
Shoot.
God did not prepare me for this day or their lethal beauty.
Haneul smirks in my direction, his smile wide and sexy. For one brief moment, I forget how much I despise him. How do you hate something so nice to look at? I quickly avert my eyes and sadly realize that I’m now looking at Ryan.
Shit.
While Haneul looks light and happy, though still ready to seduce a houseplant, Ryan’s anything but.
He grew up in Korea, moved to Canada when his parents divorced, and then returned to train.
Nobody really knows about his background other than he looks like a fallen angel.
I don’t even want to know how much money he’s made from skincare lines alone. I do know he’s loaded because of his tech-company-owning father and that he has an attitude issue with authority, though every fan denies it since his smile seems so nice.
I don’t know him well. He rarely talks to people, but his pensive look is enough. He’s Haneul’s best friend and pretty much ignores me when I’m in the room. A year ago, I was doing another audition for the label to possibly make it into a girl group, and while my dancing was completely on point, he was whispering to Haneul the entire time, watching me, throwing me off my game, and smirking. I didn’t think a ton about it until I walked out to grab some water and heard him talking with another one of the guys that was trying out for a group next.
“She’s pretty,” he said.
Ryan made a face. “She’s okay, I guess. I was too busy staring at the shit footwork and the fact that she’s bigger than the rest of the girls. They won’t pick her even if she’s the best dancer there. Fans will complain that she stands out when she needs to blend in. It sucks, but it’s the truth. At this point, it’s almost embarrassing. She should just quit.”
“That’s harsh,” the other trainee said. “Even for you.”
Ryan took a sip from his water bottle. “Life’s tough, and you know how this industry is. It’s better to just face reality—fuck, now I sound like my dad.”
They both laughed and turned to me.
I felt the embarrassment all over. It didn’t help that both Ryan and the other nameless trainee were drop-dead gorgeous and the envy of everyone at the label. A few girls walked by and started whispering.
I think what I hated the most was that he was right.
I was all wrong.
And he’d pointed it out to someone else.
See? Dicks. Both of them.
“Ryan.” I barely get his name out before trying to sidestep his angry, inquisitive stare.
But he suddenly grabs me by the arm and spins me around, backing me against the door. It clicks shut, sealing me in with both bullies.
We’re nearly chest to chest. Ryan’s taller, so all I can see are his full lips, strong jaw, and long, jet-black hair that caresses his shoulders. I smell his sinful, near-perfect cologne. His white shirt hugs a muscular chest as his fingers dig into both my arms, and he pins me against the door with his body like he has a right to.
“You ask her?” he says in Korean to Haneul without turning around. Is he watching me? Looking down?
Slowly, I lift my gaze.
His brown eyes lock on mine. It’s like a tractor-beam pulling me in. I don’t even think I blink as I stare back, powerless, allowing my body to respond to his warmth, his larger presence.