Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading this story — your time and support mean the world to me.
I'm excited to share that this book is only the beginning! A sequel is currently in the works, and I can't wait to take you even deeper into the world and characters you've just come to know.
The sequel will be available as a paid release on ScrollStackMe, so if you enjoyed this journey, be sure to follow me there to stay updated on the release date and other exclusive content.
Your support helps bring these stories to life — thank you for being a part of it

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"Where would you like to go?"
YN's eyes lit up, and she licked her bottom lip in that way that always made my thoughts scramble. God. "I know the perfect place!" she said, eyes gleaming with excitement.
My heart lurched a little at her confidence, but I swallowed it down and matched her smile. "Sounds good." Truth was, I hadn't really planned a date in years. Not a real one. And honestly? She could've said the most expensive restaurant in the country and I would've nodded without hesitation.
She tilted her head, lips quirking slightly. "Are you nervous about taking me out, Jungkook?"
I didn't hesitate. "Yes," I growled quietly. "Incredibly nervous. You?"
"A little," she admitted, her voice warm. "But I'm also excited. I'm curious to see what 'Date Jungkook' is like."
I raised an eyebrow. "Date Jungkook? Is he supposed to be different from regular, everyday Jungkook?"
She shrugged, playful. "I don't know. That's why I'm curious to see for myself."
"When?"
"Tomorrow?" I offered. "I can arrange childcare for Layla, I'm sure." God, I hope.
But YN just laughed and tossed her hair back like I had said something ridiculous. "I'll take care of it, handsome. No worries."
And then she stepped toward me, close—so close my chest brushed hers—and raised her hand to my face. Her palm met my cheek and she leaned up, her lips grazing mine in a soft, completely unfair tease of a kiss.
"See you tomorrow," she purred.
And walked away.
I remembered belatedly, "We still have dinner at home tonight."
She stopped halfway across the room, turned, and grinned. "I think we could use a few hours apart," she teased. "It'll make tomorrow even more fun, don't you think?"
I laughed and leaned against the doorframe, trying to look casual while watching the curve of her hips as she walked away. "Wear those jeans again," I called after her, "please."
YN stopped and turned just enough to smirk at me, eyes sparkling. "I'll think about it."
I stood there, rubbing the back of my neck and just grinning like an idiot.
I was in so much fucking trouble. And all I wanted to do was run headlong into it.

YN's POV
I tried on the jeans I wore yesterday one last time and smirked at my reflection in the mirror. Yeah—my ass looked amazing in them. They made my thighs pop in all the right ways, snug but not tight. Total hourglass illusion. But... jeans? On my first date with Jungkook?
Didn't feel right.
I needed something hotter. Something that screamed watch your step, Jeon, or he'd trip over his own tongue before we even made it to dinner. My options were either a pair of faux leather pants that I knew would wreck him—or a dress that would keep things sexy and classy... while still wrecking him.
I reached into my closet and pulled out that deep green velvet mini I bought months ago but never had an excuse to wear.
Until tonight.
It was sleeveless, hugged all my favorite curves, and hit high enough on my thighs to turn heads. I paired it with black strappy wedges—just enough height to make my legs look endless and give some extra swing to my hips.
"Perfect," I whispered to myself.
I felt sexy. Confident. And most importantly, me. No filters. No illusions. Tonight, Jungkook wouldn't get some polished fantasy version—he'd get the real me, completely unvarnished. YN, in all her chaotic and captivating glory.
Sure, I was a little overdressed for where I planned to take him, but who cared? If there was one thing my mom and I always agreed on, it was this—you never regret dressing up, only dressing down.
My makeup got a final touch: bold red lips, just a hint of highlighter, and mascara that made my lashes dramatic enough to flirt without trying.
At five minutes to eight, there was a knock at my bedroom door.
I drew in a slow breath and exhaled the nerves before opening the door.
"Mr. Jeon," I purred. "You look hot as hell."
His eyes widened slightly in surprise, and damn if that sexy little smile didn't wreck me. "Oh. Thank you," he said, voice low, gaze raking over every inch of me. "You look like something I'm going to be imagining ripping out of that dress all night."
My head fell back and I laughed—partly at his boldness, partly at my own growing desire.
Feeling a little wicked, I lifted the skirt and gave him a teasing two-second peek at the black lace thong underneath. "No need to imagine. There's not much under here to wonder about."
His nostrils flared as he took a step forward like he was ready to cancel dinner altogether.
I held up both hands, laughing. "Uh-uh, Jungkook. We eat first."
His groan was low, almost pained. "Right. Dinner. So... where are we going again?"
"That," I said with a smile, "is a surprise. I just hope you brought your appetite."
He placed a steadying hand on the small of my back and leaned in close enough to brush his chest against mine. His breath ghosted over my ear. "Oh, I did. My appetite's big and strong, Antonia. I could devour you whole, right here."
My breath caught—a sharp heat zipping through my spine—and I glanced back at him over my shoulder. He winked.
Who was this flirtatious menace? Where had my serious, laser-focused workaholic boss gone? And why didn't I miss him one bit right now?
"Good to know," I murmured. "I'll hold you to that. Later."
╱╱╱
"You're kidding. This is where you want to eat tonight?"
The disbelief on Jungkook's face was too good—I nearly burst into laughter.
I smirked instead. "What? You were expecting some fancy steakhouse?"
"No," he said too fast.
"Liar." I nudged him with my shoulder and took his hand, lacing our fingers together as I led him through a sandy path lined with palm trees toward the little beachside dive—not really a bar, not quite a restaurant. Just a cozy shack with a thatched roof, some scattered picnic tables, and the most mouthwatering scent of grilled meat in the air.
"This place," I said with pure pride, "has the best damn tacos in Texas. You'll see."
His eyes glinted as he looked around, skeptical but amused. "You're full of surprises, you know that?"
"You've got no idea, Jeon Jungkook," I said, tossing a wink over my shoulder as the ocean breeze swept my hair around my shoulders. "No idea at all."

Jungkook gave my hand a light squeeze and let me tug him over to a table perched right at the edge of the beach. The light breeze, the soft crashing waves... it couldn't have been more perfect. Like the true gentleman he was, he helped me up onto the high-backed stool, but his hand lingered on my thigh a beat longer than necessary.
"This dress," he growled low beside my ear.
I smirked. "Better than the jeans?"
His nostrils flared. "Nothing is better than those jeans," he said like it physically pained him to admit it, "but this dress? Fantastic."
Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my mouth—just a brush of lips, but it was hot enough to make my core tighten. I nearly forgot how to breathe. Jungkook took the seat beside me, looking too damn good in a dark fitted button-down and sleeves rolled up to his forearms, flashing those tattooed wrists like weapons of mass distraction.
"What's good here?" he asked, turning to look at me just as the waitress strolled over.
"The fish taco platter is amazing... or so they say." I gave a half-shrug. "I usually come here alone, so I haven't had a chance to sample it yet."
I held back a breath, half-expecting some joke or sideways comment about eating alone. But Jungkook just smiled—wide, easy, sincere.
"The fish taco platter sounds perfect. As long as it comes with lots of sauces?" he quirked a brow.
"It does," I replied just as the waitress chimed in with the same answer.
"And even better?" I paused for dramatic effect, smiling saucily at the waitress. "The margaritas come in comically large glasses. Strawberry mango for me... watermelon lime for him."
I turned to Jungkook expecting mild judgment, maybe a raised brow about ordering his drink for him—but what I got was just... affection. Subtle. Soft. Warm. His eyes crinkled at the corners and he gave me this tiny, tilted smile that made my heart flutter.
"Sounds good to me. But here's the real question," he said, completely serious. "Do they have fresh chips and salsa?"
The waitress grinned. "On the house," she replied, then disappeared like a margarita-carrying angel.
Jungkook turned to me again, now fully focused, smiling in that way that stripped all the air out of my lungs. "So... did I pass?"
"Pass what?"
"Your test," he said, leaning in so close I could feel every brush of his breath. "Bringing me to this taco stand for dinner?"
I laughed softly and shook my head. "Not a test. I just wanted to show you a piece of me. The real me."
He didn't say anything right away. Just sat back, eyes studying me like he could read entire chapters with each glance. "So this little taco hut is the real you?"
"It's part of me," I admitted, twirling my straw around the rim of my glass. "Yeah, I grew up with money. Nice clothes, big houses—every single polished silver spoon. But that doesn't mean that's who I am. I love fish tacos and oversized margaritas just as much as I love my Louboutin wedges."
I playfully stretched my leg out, flashing him a peek of the shoe.
"If the tacos are anywhere near as good as you look in those heels," Jungkook murmured, trailing a fingertip from my ankle up to the hem of my dress, "then I totally get it."
My skin buzzed beneath his touch.
"A nanny who loves tacos and designer shoes," he mused, lifting his glass. "Tell me more."
"I like kids," I began carefully. "When I was little, I had people around—staff, nannies, assistants. They were kind, but I was more of a job than a person to most of them. With the exception of one, they didn't care what I did or who I was. Just had to keep me alive and clean. And I wanted to be someone different—an adult who gave a damn. Who looked a kid in the eye at the end of every crappy day and actually listened."
For a second, he looked like he forgot to blink. His hand reached for mine.
"Sounds like a story," he said gently.
I gave a small laugh. "It's the usual. A rich mom who wanted a daughter clone. I pushed back—hard—at every expectation, and she pushed twice as hard to reel me in. We said awful things. Did worse things. The more I rebelled, the more distant we got."
My chest felt tight just thinking about it, so I sighed and shifted gears. "But that's enough about me. Tell me something about you. Like... you and Marnie."
He smiled faintly. "Despite the age difference, we were close. She was more than a sister—she was my best friend. My shield, I guess. When she left for college, I didn't take it well. We stayed in touch the best we could, even later on... but life gets messy. She traveled all the time for work. I buried myself in building something stable."
"Your company," I said, voice soft.
He nodded. "Yeah."
"I mean... I figured you owned one. But I still don't know what you actually do, Jungkook."
His brow lifted, clearly surprised. "Wait—you didn't look me up?"
I shrugged, glancing away. "Nope. I like to get to know people the real way. Not through headlines, or bios, or social media. I want to know what you want me to know."
Silence lapsed between us for a moment. Jungkook looked... thoughtful. Hesitant, even.
And that was okay.
Because I meant what I said: I wasn't going to push him.
Not tonight.
If he decided to let me into the deeper corners of who he was... I wanted it to be his choice.
And if not?
Well. I still had tacos, margaritas, and the best company I could've asked for.