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“Jesus H., boss. You deaf?” I breathe through a chuckle.

“First, we’ve clocked out, so I’m not your boss right now.” He lifts a brow at me, and I nod in agreement. “Second, I can’t help but blast that song. It’s my favorite.”

“Really? What is it? It sounds familiar.” I tilt my head to listen more closely.

He turns it up a little bit, and I hear it’s in a different language. “It’s called ‘Idol’ by BTS,” he replies.

I turn wide eyes to him. “You… you listen to BTS?” I pull my lips between my teeth, and my nostrils flare in my attempt to keep from laughing at him. Which would be super rude. “My daughter Lola loves them. She’s nine.”

He eyes me as he puts the truck in reverse and starts backing out of his spot. “Then Lola has amazing taste in music.”

I let out a little laugh then. “If you say so.”

He pulls out on the main road. “Have you ever taken the time to listen to the songs with her?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I’ve listened here and there when she wants to show me, but they’re singing in Korean. I have no idea why she loves them so much when she can’t tell what the heck they’re saying.”

“Ah, you’re one of those,” he says with a nod, and I lift a brow.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

He smirks. “Let me ask you this. Did you like the song ‘Despacito’ when it was all over the radio? Did you find yourself singing the English parts and mumbling along with the Spanish parts?”

I shrug. “Well, of course I did. You can’t help but dance a little in your seat when it comes on. It’s super catchy.”

“Do you know what the hell that song is about?” He lifts both brows and glances at me before turning his eyes back to the road.

I purse my lips. “Well… no,” I admit.

“Do you let your girls listen to and sing that song?” He bites his lip, looking like he’s holding back a laugh.

“When it comes on the radio, yeah,” I answer, feeling uneasy.

“Despacito means slowly,” he says, and I shrug.

“Okay, Justin Bieber says that enough in the English part. So what?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “What do you think he’s wanting to do slowly, naekkeo?”

I shrug again. “I don’t know. Dance, I assume.”

He grabs his phone and scrolls, pushes something on the screen then turns the music up a little. The first notes of the song in question start to play.

After Justin Bieber sings the English opening, and then Luis Fonsi sings the first Spanish part followed by the chorus, Winston pauses it. “Basically, he just said, ‘I want to breathe on your neck slowly. Let me tell you things in your ear so that you remember when you’re not with me. Slowly. I want to strip you with kisses slowly. Sign the walls of your labyrinth and make your whole body a manuscript.’”

My face flushes, but he just turns the song back on. When another minute passes, he pauses it again. “Right there, he said, ‘I want you to show me your favorite places. Let me surpass your danger zones—” He glances at me with a quirked eyebrow and smirks. “—to make you scream and forget your name.”

I swallow thickly. “Oh” is all I say.

“Now, listen to this,” he tells me, and he uses his phone to put on the song that was playing when we got in the car. I have to admit it’s got a good beat, and their voices are beautiful, even if I don’t understand them. He pauses it.

“What did they just say?” I ask curiously.

“He basically said they can call him whatever they want, but he’s proud of himself. He doesn’t care. He says ‘I have always been me… I know what I am. I know what I want. I’m never going to change. I’m never going to trade.’ And then later in English, they sing ‘You can’t stop me lovin’ myself.’” He pushes play, and a few moments later, I hear the English part, and I realize my head is bobbing to the beat.

“So,” he prompts, “which would you rather Lola listen to? A song about fucking until you forget your name, or one about being proud of yourself and loving who you are?”

My face flushes once more. “But that’s just one song. Who knows what the rest of their music is saying?”

“Their ARMY does. Anyone with internet access does. The second they release a song, usually in the middle of the night in the US, since they’re on the other side of the world, their fans, also known as ARMY—which stands for Adorable Representative MC for Youth—start translating it and making music videos. In the videos, which hit millions of views within hours, there’s usually three lines of subtitles. The Korean, the phonetic way to say the Korean words, and then the English translation,” he explains.


Tags: K.D. Robichaux Romance