A peppy rapping sounded at the door, and Jiyong checked the peephole, even though he was fairly certain it was Dara. She was rolling her fists and pretending to punch the door while she waited for him to answer. He couldn’t help watching for a few extra seconds before pulling the door open. He’d only ever seen her in workout clothes, but she cleaned up nice—makeup, jeans that hugged her curves, and her hair in loose curls around her shoulders.

“You missed our workout this morning,” she said in greeting as she picked up her plastic cake holder from the little wrought iron side table sitting outside. She smelled as good as she looked, and he breathed in deep. Pineapple and orange blossoms. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad.

“It’s a holiday, so I slept in. You should try it some time. It’s awesome.”

Dara, who was slowly walking through his apartment and picking up various objects, turned and shook her head. “I’ve tried, but I can’t sleep in. It’s a curse.”

“What time do you wake up?”

“Around five. My eyes just pop open, and I’m immediately bombarded with everything I have to do that day. For example, this morning I woke up and remembered that I have to pretend to be your girlfriend.”

“Sorry to add to your stress.”

She waved it off. “If it wasn’t that, it would be something else.” She put down her cake and picked up one of Seunghyun’s vintage Troll dolls from the display case in the corner. “You collect these?”

“No, that would be my brother, Seunghyun. He’s a huge nerd.”

“A lawyer and a nerd, interesting combination. Does he mind you calling him a huge nerd?” She ran her fingers over the figure’s fuzzy, orange hair before moving down to touch the jewel on its belly.

“He’d admit it if he was here. Plus, I have to have this conversation with everyone who comes over and gives me the look you were giving me a minute ago.”

“What look?” Dara’s eyes widened in innocence.

“That guarded, what-the-heck-is-going-on look. Although yours held a lot less judgment, I have to admit.”

Dara glanced around. “I was just confused. You don’t seem like the type to collect these. Personally, I’ve always found their little red marble eyes to be creepy.”

“Me too.” Jiyong stepped closer. “Check out what’s in the first drawer.”

She slid it open slowly and ran her hand over the serpentine pile. “Gum wrapper chains. I had a friend who used to make these.”

“Seunghyun adds to it occasionally when he needs a brain break. See, here’s the end of it.” He held up the green end. Seunghyun went through flavor phases. The last few feet were all made with spearmint wrappers.

“Where is this brother of yours? I’d like to meet him.”

“Working. He’ll be there this afternoon.”

Dara closed the drawer carefully and eyed the drawer beneath it. “Can I see what’s in the next one?”

Jiyong laughed. “Be my guest.”

She slid the next drawer open, which was filled with coins.

“Those aren’t collectibles. He tosses his change in there for the fun of it.”

“Mmm. Interesting.” She closed the drawer and folded her arms as she turned to face Jiyong. “So, what do you collect, young man?”

“Nothing. Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not all that interesting.”

He’d said it in jest, but her eyes grew serious as she studied him. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“You think I secretly collect stuff?”

She smiled. “No, I think you’re very interesting, but you don’t display it for everyone to see. Seunghyun wants to be seen as unique, doesn’t he?”

Jiyong shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it before, but yeah, I guess so. He’s embraced the fact that he never really fit in. His success is a revenge of sorts on the idiots who used to in high school.”

“Success should never be based on high school. It’s a microcosm of insecurity we all spend the rest of our lives overcoming.”

Jiyong eyed her curiously. “High school was rough for you?” Dara seemed like the type of person who could fit in anywhere. He certainly would have noticed her in high school.

“No, high school was great. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t see other people struggling. I wish I’d done more for others and worried less about myself. But hindsight is like that.” She looked over at him. “What about you? Or can I guess?”

He shrugged. “Sure, take a guess.”

Her light brown eyes studied him. They were warm and friendly, but penetrating, like she truly could read his thoughts.

“You had a few close friends, good guys. None of you were extremely popular, but not outcasts either. And you played a sport. Wrestling?”

“Cross country.”

“Dang. I should have guessed that.” She moved away from the display case and came to stand in front of him. Her hands smoothed across his shirt front, and he gulped a surprised breath down, trying to suppress his rea