“I figured.” He kept pointing at my phone. I ignored him and methodically counted out all the won I had. But now, with the six-pack weighing my arm down and a layer of dust coating every inch of my skin, I think that maybe the coins would’ve been better spent on a pack of wet wipes.

I swipe the six-pack across my forehead. “Is this hill getting steeper?”

“No. Korea is mountainous. You’ll get used to it.”

“I’m leaving in seven, no, six days.” There’s no time to get used to anything. There’s no time to learn the language. There’s no time to download a payment app. There’s no time to fall in love with Yujun.

“Oh.” Jules falls silent.

Up ahead a pair of headlights flash. A car door opens and then thuds shut quietly. A tall man emerges from the darkness and strolls toward us, his hands in his pockets. I can’t see his face but I’d bet this six-pack and the imaginary wipes I really, really wish I had that he has a smile on his face.

Jules makes a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. “I still can’t believe you picked up this guy at the airport. I live at airports and no one there looks like him.” She slaps me on the back. “Better spend your last six days here wisely.”

“I thought you told me to beware of Korean boys who wanted to take advantage of loose Americans.”

“But look at him.” Jules points toward the approaching Yujun. “Why go out with him unless you’re going to see him with his shirt off?”

I ponder this. It does seem right that after all the crap things I’ve endured that I get one good thing out of this trip. It would be a crime not to see Yujun shirtless.

“I bet he has abs.” Jules nods emphatically and practically falls over.

I grab her arm and haul her upright.

“Did you have a nice night?” Yujun calls out, amusement tinging his voice.

“It looks better than it actually was,” I reply. “No offense, Jules.”

“None taken, Hara.” She waves tipsily. “Choi Yujun-ssi, take care of my friend.”

“I think it is you who needs the help.” Yujun loops one of Jules’s arms around his neck and half walks, half carries her up the rest of the incline.

“How was your dinner tonight?” I ask, hurrying by to open the gate.

“It was not as good as yours.” He hauls Jules in and helps her to the front step. Anna opens the door and the light spills out, highlighting his perfect form—the broad shoulders encased in the still-crisp white shirt and his trim waist accented by a pair of dark trousers hemmed right at the ankle bone. He’s so tall and so fine, and being near him makes me almost forget every bad thing that happened today.

I dawdle outside while he hands Jules over to our roommates. It’s late. He probably wants to go home to bed, and yet . . . he’s here. And has been here waiting for me.