“What do you mean?” I asked tentatively.
“What can you give me?” he asked back.
I paused. I was still a little tipsy from the beer and it suddenly felt like the room had gotten much smaller around me.
“What do you want?” I asked nervously.
“What do I want?” he mused to himself, looking out the window. “What do I want?”
He scratched his chin contemplatively, then turned towards me.
“I want to call you Nikki,” he said. “Not Mrs. Kim.”
“Uhh, okay,” I said, feeling a little uneasy. “You can call me Nikki, if you want.”
“And I want your phone number,” he said.
“No, I don’t think so,” I said, shaking my head.
“Why not?” he said. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Why do you want it?” I asked suspiciously.
“So I can text you,” he rolled his eyes.
“I don’t think we should be doing that,” I said hesitantly, feeling uncomfortable but trying not to upset him. “That’s… that’s not really appropriate.”
“What’s inappropriate about it?” he asked, his voice innocent but his eyes narrow.
“It just… feels like a bad idea to me.”
“You said I was like Danny’s other brother,” he pushed, sitting up on the bed. “Does Riley have your number?”
“That’s different,” I said crossly. “And you know it.”
“You’re right, it is different, because Danny’s not really my brother,” Johan said, standing up. “Which means I don’t have to keep being nice to him.”
“Johan, please,” I pleaded. “He really needs you as a friend.”
“Nikki, stop making a big deal out of this,” he said, sticking his palm out. “Just give me your phone for a second.”
I was distraught. If Johan was really going to stop being friends with Danny… this whole tournament could turn from a dream to a nightmare. He had that kind of influence over my son.
Without thinking, I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone.
“What are you going to do with it?” I murmured.
“Relax, Nikki,” he said, rolling his eyes again. “I’m just going to put my number in and send myself a text.”
Before I could say anything, he plucked the phone out of my hand.
“Hey, give that back!” I said. “I didn’t say you could do that.”
He turned the camera to face me and held it up, using FaceID to unlock it.
“Johan, I said give it back,” I reached for it. “I’m not kidding around. That’s my private property!”
“Chill,” he said, holding it away from me. “I’m just going to put my number in, and…”
Suddenly, he paused. The screen was facing away from me, so I couldn’t see what he was looking at, but I saw his smirk widen into that same wolfish grin.
“OHMYGOD,” I yelled, instantly remembering the photo I’d sent to Steve earlier that day. “GIVE IT BACK, JOHAN!”
“One second,” he said, lifting the phone out of my reach as I lunged for it. “And… there. Done.”
He locked the screen and handed it back to me.
“What did you do, Johan?” I said, hurriedly unlocking the phone.
“I sent myself a text,” he chuckled. “Just like I told you I would.”
“Delete it,” I said, as I heard his own phone buzz inside his pocket. “I’m serious, Johan. Delete it right now.”
“Delete what?” he asked coyly.
“I’m not playing games with you,” I said coldly. “That’s not for you. Delete it right now.”