The living room smelled faintly of her mom’s perfume and fresh coffee. Tae sat curled up on the couch with her phone, scrolling aimlessly. It had been only a few months since her mom’s divorce, and she still wasn’t used to the idea of anyone new being around.

Which was why her stomach twisted when she heard the door open and her mom’s laughter float inside.

“Tae, honey,” her mom called. “I want you to meet someone.”

Tae sighed, lowering her phone. Someone. The way her mom’s voice sang told her exactly what that meant. She straightened reluctantly, bracing herself.

And then he walked in.

Tall. Broad. Tattoos snaking down his arms. A cocky smirk tugging at his lips like he owned the room already. His black T-shirt clung to his chest, and his jeans rode low on his hips, showing off just enough of that V-cut that screamed trouble. His hair was slightly messy, his jaw covered in dark stubble.

“This is Kook,” her mom said, practically glowing. “We’ve been… seeing each other.”

Kook’s eyes landed on Tae instantly, scanning her from head to toe without shame. Not a polite glance — a hungry one. The kind that lingered a second too long on her bare thighs where her shorts rode up, then on the soft swell of her chest under her tank top.

Tae’s cheeks heated. Not from flattery, but from irritation.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Kook said casually, as if he’d known her forever. His voice was deep, rough around the edges. “Didn’t know your mom had such a pretty daughter.”

Her mom swatted his arm playfully, laughing. “Stop it.”

Tae frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Hi.” Her tone was flat.

Kook raised an eyebrow, smirk still plastered on his face. “Not much of a talker, huh? That’s okay. I like a little attitude.”

Tae rolled her eyes and looked back at her phone. “Whatever.”

She felt his gaze linger on her anyway, heavy and intrusive. She didn’t like it. Didn’t like him. He was too confident, too smug, too everything she knew was bad news. And yet, under her annoyance, her body buzzed in a way she couldn’t control.

Dinner was unbearable.

Kook sat at the head of the table like he owned it, one arm draped lazily over the back of his chair, the other holding a beer. He told stories about his “business” — vague, half-truths that sounded more like hustling than anything real. Her mom giggled at every word, clearly smitten.

Tae stabbed her food with her fork, saying as little as possible.

“You don’t eat much, huh?” Kook asked, his eyes flicking over her plate.

“I eat fine,” she snapped, avoiding his gaze.

He chuckled low. “Feisty. I like that.”

Her mom shot her a warning look, but Kook didn’t seem offended. If anything, he looked entertained.

The entire meal, Tae felt his eyes on her. Not subtle. Not gentle. Bold. Watching her every move — the way she sipped her drink, the way she licked a bit of sauce from her thumb, the way her legs crossed under the table. It made her skin crawl, but it also sent a strange heat down her spine.

When she finally excused herself and left the table, she could still feel his eyes on her ass as she walked away.

Later that night, Tae went to the kitchen for water. She stopped dead when she found him there, leaning against the counter in the dark, another beer in his hand.

He looked up at her, smirk tugging at his lips. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

She crossed her arms, annoyed. “I just wanted water.”

He shrugged. “Help yourself.”

She moved past him quickly, reaching for a glass. His presence filled the room, thick and oppressive.

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” he asked casually, sipping his beer.

Tae froze, then glanced at him. His eyes glinted in the dim light, sharp and knowing.

“You’re cocky,” she said bluntly. “And you stare too much.”

He laughed, deep and low. “Fair enough. But you don’t exactly look away when I do.”

Her stomach flipped. “That’s because it’s hard not to notice when someone’s gawking at you like a creep.”

“Or maybe you like it,” he countered smoothly, taking another sip. “Maybe you like the attention.”

Her breath caught. Heat rushed up her neck. “You’re disgusting.”

“Probably,” he admitted with a grin. “But you’re still standing here talking to me, instead of running back to your room.”

Tae clenched her jaw. She hated how right he was. She hated that her body felt tense, aware, alive in a way it hadn’t before. She hated him.

And she hated that some part of her already knew she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about him.

That night, lying in bed, Tae replayed every look, every smirk, every word. Her skin prickled remembering the way his eyes lingered on her thighs. The way his voice dropped when he teased her. The way it felt to stand so close to him in the kitchen, his body radiating heat.

She told herself she hated him. She told herself he was gross, arrogant, all wrong for her mom.

But when her hand drifted between her legs, she didn’t stop it.

She imagined his eyes on her again, the way he’d called her feisty, the way he’d said maybe she liked the attention. Her breath hitched as her fingers pressed against the damp heat between her thighs.

And when she came, muffling her moan into her pillow, the name on her lips wasn’t one she ever expected to say.

“Kook…”