"You still mad at me, baby?" Jyeon slides over in the pitch dark, removing the gap I put between us in bed when we came here hours ago. I told him I wasn't in the mood to talk or cuddle up because my head was a mess, and I guess I was sulking at him and Greta for conspiring to dive-bomb me the same day over OLO. We're both laid here trying to sleep, but it's been obvious neither of us is while lost in our own heads.

"I wasn't mad. I needed headspace," I reply with a tight tone and exhale as his hands slide over my waist and...