Always (Indigo Falls #1)

by Loren Leigh

Simkung. It’s Korean for that throb you get in your chest with some people. It definitely describes whatever this fucking response is to Kepler Quinn.

“Why isn’t shit ever simple?” “I don’t know,” he says quietly. “Maybe because truly caring about someone is never uncomplicated.”

“To me,” he says quietly, “it feels like I’m the most obvious person in the world. I leave you Post-its because I selfishly want you to think about me.” I freeze. Well, on the outside. On the inside, a shit ton is happening. Stomach tightening, chest pinching, heart thumping up into my throat. Kepler’s lips part slowly. “And I text you because every one of those pictures you send feels like it breathes life into me. I walked with you to the willow because I want every second I can get with you. Even if it fucks up my head a bit, even if I know that it’s crossing a line.” His pupils flare, the gray darkening. “I followed you back here because I wanted to see how you are since I know you had a difficult night. And also, selfishly again, because I imagined shoving you up against the bookshelf and kissing the fuck out of you, even if I’m pretty sure that won’t ever happen. Even if I’ve imagined doing just that ever since that first time I saw you on the Quad.”

He’s hugging me, and it makes this rush of heat simmer up my throat. Simkung to the max.

“Why do you call me Jin instead of Jae or Jae Jin?” He pulls back and meets my gaze, smoky gray eyes so close I can see the brown flecks. “It’s not disrespectful?” “Well, my halmeoni would never do it, but it’s not something I’ve personally ever minded.” I frown, not really wanting to talk about Halmeoni right now. “Just wondering. You’ve called me that since we were kids.” His teeth run over his bottom lip. “Because you once told me what the hangul meant.” I pause, trying to read everything I can on his face. “Treasure,” I say. “It means something like treasure.” He squeezes me tighter. “Exactly.”

“I could tell you about the treehouse and the telescope, the way that this man lives in my soul, that first moment I saw him on the Quad five years ago, how he’s my constant, how he fills me up. But you can see all that because it’s spread out on the table before you. It speaks for itself. So, ‘how long has it been going on?’ I’ll just distill it down to one word.” His eyes warm to a light gray. “Always.”