She Tastes Like Summer

The invitation had been casual, the way everything with Hana was casual — a text message with too many emojis, an insistence that Eunbi didn't need to bring anything, a promise of "too many mangoes" and "Leo's famous fish tacos" and "maybe a board game after if you're not sick of us yet."

Eunbi was not sick of them. That was, in fact, the entire problem.

She spent the afternoon after Leo left in a strange, suspended state. Her body was still humming from the morning — the ghost of his hands on her breasts, the ache between her legs that came from being thoroughly, satisfyingly fucked. She'd showered, letting the hot water beat against her shoulders while she replayed the encounter in her head. The way he'd said her real name. The way the "good boy" had landed. The way he'd flipped her over, finally letting go of that iron self-control.

But the shower wasn't just about cleaning up. It was about resetting. About shifting her mind from what had happened with Leo to what was about to happen with Hana.

Because tonight was the night. She could feel it. The way the three of them had been circling each other for nearly two weeks — the glances, the touches, the way Hana's eyes lingered on her a beat too long, the way she'd curled into Eunbi's shoulder during the movie. The door was open. All Eunbi had to do was walk through it.

She chose her outfit with care.

It was a matching two-piece mesh set, the kind of thing you bought at a resort boutique and told yourself you'd wear on vacation but somehow never did. The fabric was lightweight and semi-sheer, printed with an abstract watercolor pattern that bled shades of blue and pink and lavender into each other like a sunset caught in fabric. The top was a camisole with delicate spaghetti straps that sat on the edges of her shoulders, a draped cowl neckline that caught the light and cast soft shadows across her collarbone, and a pointed hanky hem that fell in soft, uneven points around her midriff. Beneath it, she wore nothing — the mesh was opaque enough at the bust to keep things decent, but only just.

The matching skirt was technically a beach cover-up: sheer, flowing, cut to fall just above mid-thigh. It had adjustable side ruching that could be pulled up to reveal more leg, and delicate tie-strings on one hip that seemed to exist solely for the purpose of being untied. Underneath, a simple pair of white lace panties — the kind that were more symbolic than functional, a last line of defense that wouldn't hold for long.

She looked at herself in the mirror. The watercolor print made her skin glow. The cowl neck draped elegantly over her breasts without clinging, suggesting everything and revealing nothing. The hem of the camisole flirted with the waistband of the skirt, leaving a strip of toned midriff visible when she moved.

You're going to seduce a girl tonight, she told her reflection. A girl who's probably never been with anyone but her boyfriend. Be gentle. Be patient. Don't rush.

Her reflection didn't answer. But her reflection was smiling.

The evening air was soft and warm as she walked the sandy path between the houses. The sun was just beginning its descent, painting the sky in shades that matched her outfit — lavender bleeding into pink bleeding into the deep blue of approaching twilight. The fairy lights on Hana and Leo's deck were already lit, twinkling against the darkening sky like earthbound stars.

Hana met her at the door before she could even knock.

"Sumin!" She threw her arms around Eunbi in a hug that was far more enthusiastic than their casual acquaintance warranted — and yet felt completely natural. She was wearing a simple white eyelet sundress, the kind with thin straps and a square neckline and little embroidered flowers scattered across the fabric. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, still slightly damp at the ends from a recent shower. She smelled like coconut and vanilla.

"You look amazing," Hana said, pulling back to look at her. Her eyes traveled down the watercolor mesh set, taking in the cowl neck, the sheer skirt, the tie-strings at the hip. "That outfit is so pretty. Is it new? Did you get it at the seashell shop too?"

"This one's from Seoul," Eunbi admitted. It was close enough to the truth. "I packed it thinking I'd never actually wear it."

"Well, I'm glad you did. You look like... like a painting. Like one of those watercolor paintings, but in real life." Hana's cheeks flushed slightly, as if she realized she'd said too much. "Come in, come in. Leo's grilling on the deck. The fish turned out so good, you're going to love it—"

She grabbed Eunbi's hand and pulled her inside.

Their living room was warm and inviting in the way that only a lived-in space could be. String lights crisscrossed the ceiling, casting a soft golden glow over everything. The sofa was deep and comfortable, facing a modest TV that was currently off. The floor was covered with a plush, cream-colored carpet — the kind you could sprawl on, the kind that invited bare feet and long conversations. The sliding glass door to the deck was open, and through it Eunbi could see Leo standing at the grill, tongs in hand, a faint plume of smoke rising into the evening air.

He glanced over his shoulder as she entered. Their eyes met. Something flickered between them — recognition, memory, the shared secret of what had happened that morning — and then he turned back to the fish.

Good, Eunbi thought. He's playing it cool.

Dinner was easy. The fish tacos were genuinely excellent — Leo had marinated the mackerel in something citrusy and spicy, and the mango salsa Hana had made was bright and fresh and the perfect counterpoint. They ate at the small table on the deck, the ocean spread out before them in shades of deepening purple, and the conversation flowed as naturally as it always did. Hana talked. Leo made dry comments that made Hana laugh. Eunbi watched them both and felt something in her chest that she didn't want to name.

After dinner, they moved inside. Hana insisted on cleaning up ("You're the guest, Sumin, sit down, I mean it") and Leo settled into his usual spot on the sofa with a beer. Eunbi drifted to the carpet, sitting cross-legged on the plush cream fibers, watching Hana move around the kitchen with the efficiency of someone who'd done this a thousand times.

When the dishes were done, Hana came and sat across from Eunbi on the carpet. Not on the sofa with Leo. On the carpet, facing Eunbi, her legs tucked under her, her sundress pooling around her. She'd brought a deck of cards with her — some Japanese game she wanted to teach Eunbi — but the cards sat untouched between them as the conversation drifted.

This was the moment. Eunbi could feel it.

"I still can't believe you're single," Hana said. She'd opened a bottle of wine — a crisp white that tasted like summer — and was on her second glass. The alcohol had brought a pretty flush to her cheeks, a looseness to her limbs. "You're like... the most beautiful person I've ever seen in real life. How is there not a line of men outside your door?"

Eunbi laughed. "My work keeps me busy. Too busy for dating, most of the time."

"What do you do exactly? You said entertainment, right? Behind the scenes stuff?" Hana leaned forward, genuinely curious. "Are you like... a producer? A director? No, wait — a stylist? You always dress so well, I bet you're a stylist."

"Something like that." Eunbi deflected smoothly, the way she always did. "It's not very interesting. Mostly just... making sure things run smoothly. Managing people. Solving problems before they become problems."

"That sounds like code for something."

"It's code for 'I don't want to talk about work on vacation.'" Eunbi grinned, and Hana laughed and let it go.

The conversation drifted. They talked about Hana's childhood in California — growing up next door to Leo, the treehouse his father had built between their two yards, the time she'd fallen out of it and he'd carried her all the way home even though she wasn't really hurt. They talked about why they'd moved to Japan (Hana's grandmother was from Okinawa, and Hana had always wanted to see where she grew up) and whether they'd ever move back to the States (probably not, but maybe, someday, if they had kids).

"You two have been together a long time," Eunbi observed. She was on her second glass of wine now too, the warmth spreading through her chest. "Since you were kids, right?"

"High school. Officially. But we were... I mean, we were always together. Even before that." Hana glanced at Leo on the sofa, her expression soft with affection. "He's the only person I've ever... you know."

She trailed off, suddenly shy.

"The only person you've ever what?"

Hana's blush deepened. "You know. Been with. Like... been with." She made a vague gesture that was probably supposed to mean something specific. "He's my first everything. First kiss. First boyfriend. First..."

She trailed off again. Eunbi filled in the silence.

"So you've never been with anyone else? Not even a casual thing? A fling?"

"No. Leo's... he's it. He's always been it." Hana looked down at her wine glass, turning it in her hands. "Is that weird? Sometimes I feel like it's weird. Like I missed out on something. Not that I'd change anything!" she added quickly, glancing at Leo again. "I love him. I love our life. It's just..."

"Just sometimes you wonder," Eunbi finished gently. "What it would be like. With someone else. Someone different."

Hana's eyes met hers. There was something vulnerable in them. Something searching.

"Yeah. Sometimes."

The air in the room had changed. Eunbi could feel it — a thickness, a charge, like the atmosphere before a storm. Leo was still on the sofa, still nursing his beer, but she could sense his attention. He wasn't looking at his phone anymore. He was listening.

"You're so beautiful," Eunbi said, and she let her voice drop slightly — not seductive, not yet. Just... honest. "You must get hit on all the time."

"Me?" Hana laughed, but it came out slightly breathless. "No. Not really. I'm cute, maybe, on a good day. I'm not... I'm not like you."

"Like me?"

"You know. You're so..." Hana's eyes traveled over Eunbi's face, her neck, the draped cowl of the camisole. "You're so confident. And curvy. And your body is... I mean, I don't know how to say this without sounding like a creep, but your body is incredible. I wish I had a body like yours."

"You have a beautiful body," Eunbi said, and she meant it. "You're small and toned and perfectly proportioned. I've seen you in that yellow bikini, remember? The pink one too. You're gorgeous, Hana."

Hana's blush had spread down her neck now. She took a quick sip of wine.