MERRY 14

No matter how I explained it, it would only sound like the complaints of someone who had it too easy, so I chose to keep my mouth shut. I did a quick lap of the photos and headed out of the studio. Cutting Ben off as he babbled about how fantastic today’s shoot was, I told him to drop me off in Soho instead of at home. I felt like doing a bit of shopping and enjoying some downtime for the first time in a while.

“By yourself? Should I come with you? I still have some time before my meeting with Danny. I’ll prioritize anything involving you, Somerset.”

“I’m not alone.”

Even if I wandered around by myself, I wasn’t technically “alone.” Not when I was being trailed by a stalker who acted like my own shadow.

“Ah, you’re meeting someone. Where exactly is the place? I’ll drop you right there.”

“Forget it. Anywhere and anytime is fine.”

I felt confident and uncertain all at once. As long as Ethan was following me like a lost puppy, I wasn’t alone, but that didn’t mean we were together—nor had I made any plans to meet him.

Ben pulled over in front of a university building and let me out. He mentioned that his meeting spot wasn’t far from here and told me to call if I needed anything.

After sending him off, I turned around and walked with long, purposeful strides. I came to a halt in front of the hood of a black sedan parked diagonally on the shoulder, crossing my arms.

As the standoff dragged on, Ethan leaned forward with his hands on the steering wheel. It was as if he wanted a better look at me. Responding to that blatant stare, I gave a lazy flick of my finger.

“Get out.”

I felt like a little kid raising his voice to show off or an animal puffing out its fur to look bigger. My voice was low, and even without trying to act big, my frame was plenty large enough.

To the people passing by, it might have looked like I was picking a fight with the car’s owner. But I didn’t care what they thought, or if there were paparazzi mixed in among them.

I flicked my finger again. I even considered kicking the front tire if I had to.

“Get out. I’ll give you five seconds.”

Warning him in a voice that couldn’t possibly reach the inside of the car, I started counting the seconds. I simply moved my lips without making a sound, and just as I hit five, Ethan grabbed his jacket and stepped out of the car. It was quite the coincidence.

Oddly enough, for a stalker, Ethan always wore a suit or stuck to clean, neutral tones even when he wasn’t formal. Rather than making him blend in, it only served to highlight his natural colors. Blond hair, emerald eyes, and those vivid pink lips.

“What is it?”

He asked, and I answered nonchalantly.

“Since you’re going to follow me anyway, you might as well make yourself useful and wait on me.”

This was the first time we’d spoken since the night we had something resembling an argument. There was no awkwardness in the air.

“That isn’t part of my job.”

“Your job is stalking me. I’m giving you permission—briefly—to be near me. Most people would be jumping for joy, but here you are, playing hard to get. I know you’re secretly thrilled inside.”

“I wonder.”

Putting on his jacket, Ethan tightened his loosened tie. He was dragging his feet as if he weren’t interested, but he was bound to follow me in the end. There was an invisible tension acting like a tether between the stalker and me.

I started walking slowly so it would be easy for him to keep up. At first, Ethan trailed about two paces behind as if we weren’t together, but he gradually drew closer until he was right beside me when we entered a clothing store.

“No clothes as gifts. I’ll pass.”

“I didn’t say I was buying you anything.”

I snorted at his preemptive refusal, but in truth, I was actually willing to buy him a couple of bright-colored items. My eyes drifted involuntarily to a beige sweater on a mannequin. I could see Ethan standing in front of me wearing that. It was bound to suit him perfectly, as if it had been made just for him.

Not satisfied with just looking, I reached out and toyed with the sleeve of the sweater.

“Soft wool is usually better, don’t you think?”

Ethan didn’t answer my casual question. The eyes framed by his horn-rimmed glasses simply told me “no” once again.

Not wanting to lose, I brushed past him briskly. Who said I was buying it for him? I can check someone’s taste, can’t I? It’s only natural to ask for another person’s opinion when picking out clothes.

Explaining it away to myself to make sense of it, I scanned the clothes displayed along one wall. Every item that caught my eye looked like something that would suit a beautiful man with blond hair and fair skin. A man with strikingly beautiful eyes and an intellectual aura. Someone about my height, maybe a little taller, with a lean but broad-shouldered build—that would be perfect.

“This jacket…”

As I pulled out a jacket with a simple design, Ethan shook his head firmly.

“Somerset.”

The way my name rolled off his tongue felt stiff. I felt like I knew what he was going to say next, so I countered before he could even speak.

“I’ll say it again: I didn’t say I was buying this for you. Don’t you think you’re just jumping to conclusions?”

“I’m not.”

“Wow, look at that confidence. Unbelievable.”

Even when I tried to make him feel awkward, Ethan didn’t seem fazed. He scanned the interior with indifferent eyes and then stepped up right behind me.

“Somerset.”

Hearing my name again, it was even stiffer and heavier than before. I barely managed to ignore the voice hovering over my shoulder and hung the jacket back in its place. As I stood there with my hands down, frozen like I was at attention, Ethan reached out. He pulled out the very jacket I’d tried to recommend and whispered lowly.

“Don’t show me your soft side. What are you going to do if I’m the kind of bad guy who takes advantage of that? Hmm?”

Isn’t “taking advantage” a bit much for just buying someone a piece of clothing? It’s not like I’m blowing my entire fortune. I turned around, wondering if my standards were just too loose. If Ethan hadn’t backed away quickly, our noses or chins—or at least our hair—would have brushed. Fortunately, there was no contact.

“There’s no such thing as a good stalker.”

I hoped my words and my gaze would scratch Ethan just a little bit, but even that wish went unfulfilled, defeated by his composure. I crossed the store while rubbing my ears, which were burning for no reason.

‘Don’t show me your soft side.’

The words Ethan whispered felt like a line from a movie or a drama.

‘What are you going to do if I’m the kind of bad guy who takes advantage of that?’

It would have been easier if he were just a bad guy using me for something. Right now, he was a questionable bad guy whose true motives were a mystery, which made him difficult to handle.

‘Hmm?’

The sound of him seeking my agreement had vibrated in his throat, and now it continued to ring in my ears and my mind.

‘Hmm?’

It was a good enough voice to play back on repeat—that was an undeniable fact.

‘Hmm?’

But if I really kept thinking about it like this, was there something wrong with my brain?

‘Hmm?’

Nothing happens just because I’m the only one holding onto that sound he let slip for a split second.

‘Hmm?’

Enough. Stop thinking about it! I finally scratched my head in annoyance at myself. Half of my hair, which had been fixed in place with spray, ended up sticking up stiffly while the other half got messy. My reflection in the mirror looked ridiculous, so I turned around. When I pointed to my hair and gave a grin, Ethan tilted his head.

“What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it funny?”

“Not particularly.”

His lukewarm reaction was a total letdown. I brushed my bangs back to fix them.

“Your bored expression is even less funny.”

“Sure.”

“Do you know how annoying you really are?”

“I could hardly miss it. You make it so obvious.”

Answering smoothly, Ethan headed toward the counter with the jacket. Despite acting like he was going to take full advantage of me, he paid for it himself. Seeing as he followed me around all day every day, he probably didn’t have a decent job, but his wallet seemed to be in okay shape. Was “his family going broke” not the reason they moved?

He came back to me carrying a large paper bag. If you looked only at that action, he seemed like a loyal puppy, but the reality was different. He felt more like a cat than a dog, and he wasn’t loyal to me at all.

When I nagged him about buying the clothes without even trying them on, he brushed it off indifferently as if it were someone else’s business. When I urged him to wear it out next time, he clearly stated his refusal.

“If you aren’t going to wear it, why buy it?”

“Because I thought it would be easier to just cooperate with you.”