Junyoung’s playful remark made a crease form between Beomjin’s brows. He shook his head.
“Running away... That was your doing, wasn’t it?”
“And? Did you not like it?”
She leaned closer, her question drawing a quick glance from him, his frown deepening.
“Can’t even answer, huh?”
“Sure. Someone who was in Busan until yesterday suddenly shows up at a hotel at this hour, hand-delivering documents. I didn’t know you’d taken on the role of Na Seungwoon’s personal secretary.”
His cool murmur didn’t meet her gaze, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. Junyoung’s lips curved into a smile as she watched his profile, feeling a tickle in her chest.
When the car slowed at a red light, she took the opportunity to yank her seatbelt tight, leaned over, and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.
Startled, Beomjin whipped his head toward her, his eyes wide.
“What the hell are you doing?”
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