When they got to the parking lot, Jiheon had Jaekyung wait while he cleared out the backseat. He moved some bags and other stuff aside to make room, then got into the driver’s seat.
“Get in,” he said, fastening his seatbelt. But Jaekyung opened the front passenger door.
“Sit in the back. I cleared a space for you.”
“No. What is this, a taxi?”
Is he trying to say I’m not his driver? Or maybe he just doesn’t want to sit back in the back like I’m his chauffeur?
With any other athlete, Jiheon would have jumped to that conclusion. But with Jaekyung, it took a bit longer to figure out what he meant.
“If you want, think of it as a taxi ride. Driving you around’s part of the job anyway. From now on, you’ll be riding in my car—or someone else’s—when you go places. You don’t always have to sit up front, and—” Jiheon said.
“I’ll figure it out on my own,” Jaekyung cut him off.
The front of the car suddenly felt cramped. It was a large sedan with plenty of space, but with two broad-shouldered men sitting side by side, the cabin felt uncomfortably tight. Jiheon rolled the windows down to let in some air.
“It’s the AC smell. Let me air the car for a bit,” he said casually, then turned the AC on a moment later.
Jaekyung didn’t say a word. He didn’t seem to care. He rested his arm on the windowsill, eyes fixed straight ahead. Nothing about him seemed off.
Of course not. The chip’s been replaced with a new one, and I’ve double- and triple-checked that it works. If Jaekyung could still pick up pheromones, the chip manufacturer might actually deserve a lawsuit.
Jiheon knew that, but anxiety lingered. Maybe I’ll up the dosage a little more, Jiheon thought, as he backed out of the lot. He was already using more than he should, but even that didn’t seem to be enough. He ran through his schedule in his head, wondering when he might find time to visit the hospital—when Jaekyung suddenly asked.
“Is this your car?”
“I wouldn’t get a car this big,” Jiheon muttered, easing into the turn. He kept his eyes on the road as he added, “This is a company car.”
“When did you get your license?”
“Back in college.”
“What year?”
“I dunno. Probably not my freshman year. Maybe when I was a sophomore.”
“You didn’t buy a car then?”
“No. When I was in college, I drove my father’s car for a bit. After I joined the agency, I just took the bus. It is close to where I live now.”
Jiheon answered simply because the questions were coming, but he couldn’t quite figure out why Jaekyung was asking them. Maybe he was worried Jiheon wasn’t experienced enough behind the wheel. The thought made Jiheon tense, and his grip on the wheel unconsciously tightened.
He took the turn out of the hotel parking lot more carefully than usual. Once he made it safely onto the road, he sighed with relief. Then Jaekyung asked again.
“You ever driven someone you were dating?”
“What?” Jiheon asked, wondering if he’d misheard.
Jaekyung just repeated the question—calmly, not the least bit annoyed, as Jiheon had half expected.
“Did you ever drive a lover while in college?”
Jiheon threw a sidelong glance at Jaekyung’s face. His cap was pulled low, shadowing everything above his nose. His chin rested on the back of his hand, obscuring half of his handsome lips.
“Of course,” Jiheon said briefly, eyes back on the road.
“Were there more men or women?”
“What do you think? Take a wild guess,” Jiheon said with a grin.
Jaekyung didn’t move, his chin still resting on his hand.
“I wouldn’t know that. You’re the type who gets attention—from both men and women.”
“Huh. Flattering me won’t get you anywhere,” Jiheon said in a tone of mock complaint, trying to hide his confusion.
The flattery was easy enough to brush off. What caught Jiheon off guard was how little bias Jaekyung seemed to have. Jiheon had expected him to assume all his lovers had been men—after all, he was an omega. And yet Jaekyung had asked about both genders.
It was both amusing and intriguing—how someone who so perfectly fit the public stereotype of an alpha seemed to carry none of the usual prejudices. As for him, he had only dated betas.
“Well, there are about half as many girls as guys in college—at least that’s what I heard. Honestly, it felt like even fewer in real life. And my major already had barely any girls to begin with. So, yeah—does that answer your question?”
“What was your major?” Jaekyung asked without missing a beat.
“Sports Marketing.”
“Why did you choose that major?”
“Well, based on my grades and my record as an athlete, it just seemed like the obvious choice.”
“So it had nothing to do with aptitude?”
Aptitude. Jiheon repeated the word under his breath, as if it were foreign to him.
“I don’t think I ever really thought about that. I just figured I should at least graduate from a well-known four-year college for my parents’ sake. And the only major I thought I had a shot at was Sports Marketing.”
“Do you like what you do?”
“You mean, do I think it suits me?”
Jaekyung nodded silently.
“Well... I’m not someone who believes those things are set in stone. Most people don’t end up doing exactly what they dreamed of. You compromise where you have to.”
As they approached an intersection, the car next to them flicked on its turn signal, edging toward their lane. Jiheon slowed down a little.
“I was in the Promotion Team until last week. Mostly, I wrote press releases. Sometimes I helped with marketing plans or content stuff. Honestly, it was closer to ad planning than actual sports marketing. But it was all right. Doable, you know?”
“So this is your first time working with an athlete directly?” Jaekyung asked.
“You mean managerial work? Yeah, it’s my first time.”
“How do you think this suits you?”
“Hard to say. It’s my first day on the job,” Jiheon said, half-joking.
Jaekyung turned to look at Jiheon for the first time, his chin still resting on the back of his hand.
“But if this is your first time doing this sort of work, how did you end up being friends with that athlete before?”