I Accidentally Stole The Bad Boy's First Kiss

ADDY

I’m looking at Asher, a bit confused.

“Why do you need my help?” I ask, taking a sip of my lemonade soda that I’d left on the table earlier. Asher’s gaze lands on my drink, but he doesn’t say anything.

“You want one?”

He shakes his head, declining my offer.

“Because I think you’re the only one who can help me,” he finally answers my question.

I furrow my brows and lean back into my couch. This guy knows practically everyone at school, and he’s asking me for help—a person he’s only met twice.

Not that he knows about the second time. I blush at the memory of our second encounter, my fingers instinctively touching my still-chapped lips.

“Are you okay?” Asher’s eyes are on my fingers on my mouth, a brow raised in question.

I quickly drop my hand and look away.

You’re going to give yourself away in the next few minutes if you keep this up!

“Yes, yes. My lips just feel dry,” I say without thinking.

Asher seems to stiffen for a second before relaxing again.

Addy, what the hell!

“Uh, why do you think I’m the only one who can help you?”

“I have my reasons. Don’t you want to know why I’m asking for your help first, though?”

Asher smirks at me. I study his face before nodding. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. I grab my lemonade, taking another big sip.

“I want you to help me find out who kissed me the night of Trevor’s party last week.”

I spit out my lemonade in shock, the liquid splashing all over the table.

I’m staring at Asher in horror, not even slightly embarrassed that I just spit my drink out in front of him.

I must have misunderstood him. Yes, that’s it. There’s no way he just asked me to find the girl who kissed him at the party.

I look up into his eyes, waiting for him to tell me it’s a joke, but he’s still looking serious, not at all bothered by my reaction.

“I’m sorry, let me clean this up!” I suddenly panic. Oh, God. What am I doing?

I rush into the kitchen to grab something to clean up my mess with before hurrying back out.

Just as I finish cleaning, Asher speaks up again.

“I’m serious. I want you to help me find out who kissed me that night when the lights went out.”

I look at him, confused.

“What makes you think that I know about it?”

“Everyone in our grade already knows, which means you know about it, too.”

“Uh-huh, right, but, um, why do you want to find her?” I ask, my hands shaking slightly.

“That’s none of your business. Just do it,” he says firmly.

Is he insane? Helping him means exposing myself. How am I supposed to find the girl Asher wants when I’m the one he’s looking for?

“Look, I can’t help you, Asher.” I sit back down on the sofa.

“I don’t think you have a choice here, Buttercup.”

I freeze for a second at the nickname he’s given me before tensing up again.

“What do you mean? Of course I have a choice. If you want anything else, then sure, but I can’t help you with finding your girl.”

Shit, why did I say “his girl”?

I mentally slap myself before turning to look at him again.

“She’s not my girl!”

“Uh-huh. Right.” I look down at my hands.

“Are you going to help me or not?” Asher smirks confidently.

“I just told you no, and I’m not going to change my answer anytime soon either!” I say, trying to sound calm.

“I don’t see why you can’t help me, unless you’re the girl who kissed me,” he says smugly. I jump up from my seat and stare at him in horror.

“NO! I just have a lot to do. I don’t understand why I have to do this for you. Why are you so sure of yourself? I’m not going to agree! This is ridiculous!”

My heart is pounding as he moves closer to me.

“I don’t think you’ll turn down my offer when you see something.”

I look up at Asher, my eyes wide. What could he possibly have on me? He’s barely noticed me his whole life.

I raise a brow at him in challenge.

Asher leans down further, his mouth right next to my ear. I freeze, feeling a warmth spread through me.

“We wouldn’t want your parents to find out about your nightly strolls, would we?”

This time I don’t freeze because my crush is standing so close to me. This time I freeze because his words sink in. My mouth drops open in shock and I take a step back.

“Wh-what?” I stutter.

“You heard me, Buttercup, loud and clear.” Asher sits back down on the sofa and I just stand there, rigid.

How could he possibly know about my night walks? He never even notices me, so how? Has he been watching me all this time?

No. That’s impossible.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, trying to sound confident.

“Are you sure?”

I nod frantically.

“Come here,” Asher motions for me to sit next to him. In any other situation, I would have blushed like crazy if Asher had asked me the same thing. But now, all I feel is dread.

No one can find out, Addy! You have to keep your secret safe!

Voices are echoing in my head as I sit down, looking up at Asher.

“If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then explain what this is.” He hands me his phone.

I look down at the black screen. “Huh?”

“Press play.” He smirks.

The black screen vanishes as I do as he instructs, and suddenly, there I am. My eyes go wide as I watch myself clambering out of my window. The video is clearly shot from Asher’s room. He actually recorded my escape!

I’m glued to the screen, watching myself descend, repeating the same mantra I always do, “Mom and Dad can’t find out, Addy!”

A few moments later, I’m on the ground and bolting into the woods. This isn’t footage from the last time. This is an older video.

Why does Asher have videos of my nighttime escapades?

Does this mean he saw me the last time too?

My eyes widen further, and I attempt to swipe the screen to find the next video, but the phone is yanked from my grasp.

Asher looks down at me, and I swallow hard.

“Why do you have videos of me?”

“None of your business,” he replies coolly.

I spring to my feet.

“What do you mean? Those are videos of me!”

Asher rises too, completely unfazed by my outburst.

“You know what you need to do if you want them gone; get ready to spend the next few months with me.”

I open my mouth to retort, but no words come out.

Just great!

“We’re going jogging first thing tomorrow morning. Six a.m. sharp. I can’t stand tardiness.”

I gawk at him, unable to believe what I’m hearing.

“What does jogging have to do with finding the girl who kissed you?”

“I’m holding your videos, Buttercup. See you at six sharp tomorrow?”

He grins before striding out, leaving me standing there, utterly flabbergasted.