Chapter 27: Please Kiss Me...
[Seo Yerin’s POV]
Cancel a world tour? My manager practically wept into his espresso when I told him over the phone. But I didn’t care. The moment Aunt Alice called and told me Seth was finally home, I booked the first flight straight to the Capital.
For as long as I can remember, my life has been split cleanly down the middle. There’s Nova, the flawless, icy, untouchable global pop queen millions scream for and then there’s Yerin.
Out in the real world, everyone wants a piece of Nova. They want contracts, endorsements, photo ops, or just a slice of my fame to show off to their rich friends. It’s exhausting. The only place on this entire planet where I could drop the act and just breathe without wearing a mask was the Fernando Mansion, not even my real family.
And now, my lost cousin was finally home.
When I first strutted into the grand lounge in my oversized T-shirt, denim shorts, and face mask, half-expected some rigid, arrogant high-society heir trying to act cool and impress me. Instead, I found Seth sitting on the sofa.
He was handsome, sure, broad shoulders, clean features, and an athletic frame built from years of hard work. But what completely threw me off was his gaze. He didn’t look at me like I was a trophy or a superstar.
When he connected the dots and realized I was Nova, he didn’t ask for an autograph, stammer awkwardly, or try to use my name for his own benefit. He just treated me like... Yerin. A slightly chaotic, annoying girl sitting beside him, eating his mother’s homemade cupcakes.
That evening during dinner, when he casually mentioned working eighty-hour weeks in greasy kitchens and dropping out of college because his debts were piling up, my heart sank.
I’m a Rothschild. I grew up surrounded by an absurd, almost disgusting amount of wealth. But hearing him talk about his rough past so quietly, without an ounce of bitterness, anger, or self-pity, made me respect him instantly.
He was grounded. He was real. He was the definition of genuine normalcy in a world full of fake, gold-plated elites.
And then came game night.
I swear I thought I was going to crush him at the MOBA, but watching him banter with me, trash-talk me with that dry smirk, and laugh out loud with Aunt Alice and Uncle Julian was the single best feeling in the world. For the first time in long years, the cold, silent wing of the estate felt alive. Seth didn’t just fit into the family, he completed it.
By the time midnight rolled around, I was so utterly spent that I practically face-planted onto his mattress. I knew I was being ridiculously needy by stealing his bed, but I just wanted to be near him, surrounded by his warm, comforting presence. And when I woke up the next morning sitting directly on his chest? Seeing him blush and panic because my weight was crushing his lungs was so hilariously endearing that I couldn’t stop giggling.
Then I found his old bucket list saved on his phone while he was in the bathroom.
Eat at a fancy restaurant. Get a custom gaming setup. Go to a giant amusement park.
Simple, childish wishes. Things a guy who worked himself to the bone just to survive never had the chance to enjoy. In that exact moment, sitting on his bed in his oversized grey hoodie that smelled faintly of fresh soap and cedar, I made a silent vow to myself: I was going to help him check off every single item on that list, no matter what it took.
The amusement park was an absolute blur of pure freedom.
For the first time in my entire career, I wasn’t Nova. I didn’t have a strict schedule, a manager breathing down my neck, or cameras tracking my every move. I was just a normal girl on a date—err, trip—with a guy who made my heart race for all the right reasons.
On the giant roller coaster, when the track started clicking up that massive incline, I saw him grip the safety bar tightly. The invincible, broad-shouldered Young Master was actually nervous about heights! I couldn’t resist grabbing his hand. Slipping my fingers through his and feeling his warm, solid grip wrap around mine... God, my heart hit my ribs harder than the coaster’s vertical drop ever could.
And the best part? He didn’t let go. Throughout the entire loop-de-loop madness, his hand stayed firmly wrapped around mine, giving me a solid anchor in the middle of all the chaos.
Then came the claw machine. Okay, fine, that machine was totally rigged! But watching Seth use his ridiculous finger luck to win that giant teddy bear on his very first try made my stomach do flip-flops. And when those random teenage girls walked over, batting their eyelashes and asking if he wanted a one-night stand?
Hell no. "He belongs to me!" I shouted before my brain could even filter the words. I played it off as a protective cousin keeping random predators away, but the truth was, my chest burned with pure, green jealousy. I didn’t want any other woman looking at him like that.
As for the cousin thing? Please. Aunt Alice had already made it crystal clear that we don’t share a single drop of actual blood. In high-society circles, distant family ties mean nothing anyway. All I knew was that every time Seth looked at me with those calm, warm eyes or teased me with that easy smile, I was falling deeper and deeper into something I couldn’t control.
Then came our grand escape to the Haunted House.
Losing Val was embarrassingly easy-the woman is a walking weapon, but she’s completely helpless against a craving for chocolate ice cream. But accidentally slipping my face mask off after a sudden jumpscare? Total rookie mistake.
The second the teenagers recognized me and started shouting my name, panic flared in my chest. But Seth didn’t freeze for even a moment. He grabbed my hand, his grip tight, strong, and reassuring, and dragged me straight through the dark corridors of the attraction.
When we hit that dead-end brick passage with the excited crowd closing in, my survival instincts, and something much bolder, took over completely. I grabbed the front of his hoodie and pulled him straight against me, pressing myself against the wall.
"Stay close," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
I meant for it to be a cover-up. A fake, intimate embrace to make the fans look away and keep running. But the moment his broad chest slammed against mine, all logical thought completely evaporated.
His body was towering, broad, and radiating intense heat. The narrow brick passage grew stiflingly hot in an instant. I could feel the hard, muscular press of his chest flattening my bust beneath my hoodie, his hips locked flush against mine without an inch of space between us. Beneath his pants, I felt the heavy, undeniable hardness of his reaction pressing against my denim shorts.
A shiver shot straight down my spine, my thighs trembling.
The fans ran past the passage, but neither of us moved an inch.
I looked up into his eyes. The playful, casual cousin was completely gone. In his place was a man staring down at me with raw, undisguised desire, his eyes dark and intense beneath the dim red emergency light. He wanted me. And God help me, I wanted him even more.
"Seth..." I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper. ’Please kiss me...’
He didn’t hesitate. He leaned down and captured my lips with his.
Electric. That’s the only word for it. The moment his mouth met mine, a wave of liquid heat flooded my entire body. I let out a soft, trembling sigh, opening my mouth to let him in and wrapping my arms tightly around his neck as our tongues met in a hungry, desperate rhythm.
He groaned, his hands sliding beneath my white hoodie, his warm palms resting against the bare, sensitive skin of my waist before moving lower. When his fingers gripped my ass through my denim shorts, squeezing the firm curves and pulling my hips tightly against his hardness, a needy, muffled moan escaped my throat.
I ground my hips against his, completely uninhibited, clinging to him like he was the only anchor in a spinning world. I didn’t care that we were in a dark passage of a haunted house. I didn’t care about my career, the media, or the rest of the world. I just wanted Seth.
By the time we pulled apart, our breaths were ragged, a thin line of saliva bridging our lips as we rested our foreheads against each other. My face was burning, my chest heaving, my fingers still tangled in his hair.
Then I saw the ghost.