I fidget nervously, unsure what to do. On one hand, I’m terrified out of my mind, but on the other hand, I want to get kissed. And kissing Benton doesn’t seem too bad. It would get my first kiss out of the way too and maybe then Taylor wouldn’t feel like she couldn’t talk to me about guy stuff.
“Okay, let’s do it.” My voice is as quiet as a mouse and nearly gets lost in the booming music outside the door.
But Benton must hear me, because he wets his lips with his tongue, and scoots closer to me. His gaze flicks from my lips to my eyes, lips, eyes, lips, eyes, lips…
He leans in without warning and his mouth grazes mine. I freeze, unsure what to do, my hands balling into fists on my lap.
Oh my Gosh, I’m kissing a guy.
Oh my Gosh, I’m kissing Benton!
“Relax,” he whispers against my lips, sounding sort of amused and sort of uneasy.
I try to do what he says, forcing my muscles to unstiffen. But any relaxation goes straight out the window as he parts my lips with his tongue and deepens the kiss. He tastes like cherries and something more potent and his tongue in my mouth feels strange. Strangely amazing. His hand finds the back of my head and his fingers thread through my hair as he kisses me slowly. Unsure of what to do with my hands, I reach out to grab onto something and end up putting them on his sides. Without his shirt on, the warmth of his skin overwhelms my palms. Worried maybe touching wasn’t part of this deal, I start to draw back.
“Don’t,” he whispers as I start to move my hands away.
His body shudders as I place my hands back where they were. My fingers tremble, my heart slams in my chest, and my anxiety soars through the roof as he starts to kiss me more fiercely while gradually lowering me down toward the floor.
Oh my Gosh, this is getting intense. I should stop it, right? Shouldn’t I…
I don’t know…
Before I can make a decision, the bathroom door flies open. I jump back, my cheeks flushing and my heart racing. Benton blinks at me, looking dazed. And confused. And worried.
“Zhara, I—”
“Dude, Benton, there’s some people at the front door that say they need to talk to you. They look like bodyguards or bikers or some shit.” A guy we went to school with is standing in the doorway, glancing back and forth between us with perplexity written all over his face.
Benton lets out a string of curses as he starts to stand to his feet. “Sorry,” he says to me, then walks out of the bathroom.
I watch him go, utterly puzzled over what he’s sorry for. Leaving me? Or kissing me?
Kissing?
Reality slaps me across the face.
Oh my Gosh, I just had my first kiss with a guy I barely know.
The thought makes my head spin because I’m unsure whether what I did is right or wrong. Would my mom have been disappointed in me? Or is this normal?
I don’t know what to think or do, my mind racing a million miles a minute. Sensing a panic attack coming on, I get up, hurry out of the bathroom, and power walk out of the house, leaving the party without so much as a glance back. When I reach the bottom of the stairway, I notice Benton in the parking lot, talking to two large guys wearing leather jackets and sunglasses. He looks worried and upset. As I start toward the sidewalk, he catches my eye and stares at me with his brow furrowed.
Then suddenly his eyes light up. “Hey, Zhara, can you come here for a minute?” he calls out, giving me a pleading look.
I hesitate, wanting to continue running home. But ultimately, Benton’s begging stare wins me over and I walk over to him.
“Hey,” I say to him, unsure what else to say.
He offers me a cocky smile, but beneath the arrogant demeanor resides a hint of worry. “Zhara, I’d like you to meet Tank and Ralpho.”
Tank and Ralpho… what strange names. Even stranger, though, is why is Benton introducing me to them?
“Um, hey.” I give them a tentative wave, then glance at Benton, lost.
He gives me another pressing look before turning back to the two guys. “Tank and Ralpho, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend. You know, the one I’ve been telling you about—who all of us have been telling you about.”
All of us? Huh?
The guys stare at me with their sunglasses still on so I can’t see their eyes, which makes me feel extremely unnerved.
“Hey,” they both grumble, frowning in disappointment.
Their reaction throws me off. Disappointed? Why would they act…
Wait a second!
I rewind through what Benton just said and my jaw nearly ninja kicks the asphalt. Girlfriend? Did he just refer to me as his girlfriend?
“So, as you can see, we weren’t lying.” Benton smirks at the guys then drapes his arm around my shoulder, drawing me closer to him.
His move is casual, but I can sense the tension flowing off him.
Who are these guys? And how do they have someone like Benton scared?
“I guess not,” the taller guy mumbles.
Then he exchanges a look with the shorter guy. They stare at each other momentarily, as if having a silent conversation. Then the taller guy turns back to Benton.
“I guess we’ll see you on Monday then.” His deep voice reverberates. He pauses, sticks his hand into his pocket, and retrieves a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. Then he lights up, takes a drag, and releases the smoke in Benton’s face. “Bring the girl with you. I’d like to talk to her some more, but in private.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary, is it?” Benton grits out, his muscles wound tight. “She’s not part of this.”
“Oh, but she is,” the short guy sneers, adjusting his glasses. “Monday, Benton, and don’t be late.”
They turn, walk across the parking lot, and climb into a sleek, black BMW with tinted windows and chrome rims. They don’t start the engine up right away and Benton makes no move to budge or say anything. He waits patiently, staring at the car until they finally they drive off.
The instant the car vanishes, Benton releases a stressed breath, moves his arm from my shoulders, and rakes his fingers through his hair. “God dammit, why the fuck did they have to come here today?” He curses several more times before his eyes land on me. He blinks, almost as if he’s forgotten I was standing there, then wariness crosses his expression. “So… I’m thinking you might be wondering what that was about?”
I nod. “Yeah, sort of. I mean, I don’t know who those guys are… And you told them I was your girlfriend so…” I have no clue how to finish that statement.
He scratches the corner of his eye while shifting his weight. “Yeah, about that…” Another shift of his weight. “I think I really need to talk to you, but not here.”
He sounds just like Tank and Ralpho. “Okay… About what exactly?”
“About what just happened.” He chews on his bottom lip, eyeing me over with confliction. “And about a favor I might need—Well, all of my friends might need.”
I point at myself. “You and the Bad Boy Rebels need a favor from me?”
He lets out a soft chuckle. “Are people still using that stupid little nickname?”
My cheeks warm. “Some do.”
“Well, just so you know, we don’t call ourselves that. But yes, me and the,” his lips quirk, “Bad Boy Rebels need a favor from you.”
“What sort of favor?” I ask, tugging on the bottom of my shirt. Or well, his shirt. Crap! I still have it on. “Should I be worried?”
He wavers. “Not you, but we might need to be.”
I frown. “Why’s that?”