Chapter 5 My First Kiss

I couldn't believe that was my first kiss.

My lips were visibly swollen, throbbing from the way we had just kissed. And my knees—god, my knees felt weak, not just from the lust he pulled out of me, but from the embarrassing situation that just happened.

I had almost become one of the fuck buddies I so despised, and it was for a guy who I was just meeting for the first time.

Worse, I had fucked it up. The memory of my teeth catching on that piercing made my stomach twist into a tight knot.

.

"Get it together," I gave myself a quick slap. Being reckless was Chloe's specialty and not mine.

I kept my head down, pushing through the cheering crowd of the dirt lot, wrapping my jacket tighter around my chest. The noise of the revving engines and shouting spectators washed over me, but all I could hear was his mocking voice offering me a "fun night. No strings."

I needed to get out of here.

I scanned through every single head until I spotted Chloe who was back in her car, getting tongue fucked by her tattooed biker boyfriend. His hands were gripping her waist, while they wrestled for who had the ability to eat someone whole, completely oblivious to the world.

Before I could even take a step toward them, my phone vibrates in my front pocket. I was already expecting this so I sighed, hastened my steps to the car and pulled my best friend away.

"Hey, what the fuck—" her boyfriend grumbled, turning around with a scowl.

"Hey," Chloe protested. "Who the fuck are you? What is wrong with you?"

When she saw that it was me, she calmed down a bit.

She blinked, her lipstick smeared, looking dazed. "Nora? What's wrong?"

"My Dad is calling," I whispered, before answering the phone. "Hey . . . Dad," I said nervously.

"Nora Yasmine Mercer." My dad's voice came vibrating through the speaker. "Where the helm are you?"

I squeezed my eyes shut. "I'm sorry, I lost track of time. I know I missed curfew—"

"You missed curfew by almost six hours," he snapped, his tone leaving zero room for argument. "I called the academy. They said your practice session ended at five. I have my security team tracking your car right now, but your GPS is disabled. I've given you more than fifty missed calls within the last six hours, and I am two seconds away from calling the police. Where are you?"

"I'm at Chloe's," I lied flawlessly, even though my heart was hell bent on exposing me. I practically shoved the phone against my ear to muffle the sound of a roaring exhaust pipe fifty yards away. "We went out for dinner after practice, and I was so exhausted I just crashed in her room. I turned my location off to save battery. I'm really sorry, Dad. It's just a sleepover."

There was silence on the other end of the line. My father didn't become a billionaire by being gullible. He was the most ruthlessly perceptive man I knew.

"A sleepover," he repeated flatly.

"Yes."

"Put Chloe on the phone."

My eyes widened. I pulled the phone away from my ear and shoved it into her chest, mouthing the word, Sleepover.

"Hi, Mr. Mercer!" She chirped brightly. "I am so, so sorry. I totally kidnapped her. We were doing face masks and watching movies, and we both just completely passed out. I should have made her text you."

I held my breath, watching her face.

The tension stretched for five agonizing seconds. Then, I heard the faint sigh of my father over the speaker. The panic in his voice shifted back into his usual, overprotective authority.

"Fine," he said, the sharp edge dulling slightly. "Tell her she is grounded for the rest of the week when she gets home. And Chloe?"

"Yes, Mr. Mercer?"

"Take good care of her. Keep the doors locked."

"Always," she promised sweetly. "Goodnight, Mr. Mercer."

She ended the call and handed the phone back to me, blowing out a massive breath that ruffled her blonde bangs. Her boyfriend let out a low whistle, shaking his head at the performance.

"I cannot believe that worked," I muttered, my hands actually shaking as I shoved the phone back into my pocket.

"Are you kidding?" She laughed, leaning back against the car. "Your parents love me. Even more than they love you. In their eyes, I'm the perfect little angel who's their daughter's guardian angel."

"It's fucking ridiculous," I said, rubbing the tension out of my forehead. "I'm their actual flesh and blood. I have never been arrested, I don't do drugs, and I spend eighty hours a week in a simulator. But they trust you—the girl

that's currently dating a guy with a rap sheet—over me."

She grinned, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend's neck and kissing his cheek. "That's because I know how to play the game, babe. You just argue with them." She pulled her keys out of her pocket. "Come on. We actually have to go home now, just in case your dad's security team decides to do a drive-by."

I nodded, thankful that she was finally ready to go home.

She said a quiet goodbye to her guy, who gave me a respectful nod before walking off toward the main building. As she started the engine and threw the car into drive, I was reminded of my little fling.

I leaned my head against the passenger window, staring out at the dirt lot as we pulled through the gates. I looked for him. I didn't want to, but my eyes scanned the shadows near the shipping containers anyway.

He wasn't there.

"So," she said softly, the tires transitioning from cracked dirt to smooth highway asphalt.

I didn't turn my head. "So what?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her smirk. She reached over and flipped on the dome light for a second, just long enough to illuminate my

flushed neck, my messy hair, and my visibly bruised lips.

"You were gone for twenty minutes with a guy who looked like he kills people for a living," she noted, her voice dropping into a teasing, highly anticipated whisper. "How was your first time?"