The First Taste Read online Crystal Kaswell

Categories Genre: Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Crystal Kaswell Advertisement

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"I'm proud of you." His voice stays strong. In control.

But I know better. He's trying not to cry. He's usually more… stoic. Like Oliver. But since last year—

I get that he's scared. That he and Oliver are scared. I'm scared too.

When they look at me like I'm fragile, I start to believe it. I start to worry I will break.

And then—

I just wish they believed I could handle this.

"I know," I say.

"You've been so strong." The wall drops. His voice cracks. It's right there, on the surface please, Daisy, be careful. Tell me what I can do to make this okay. I can't watch you spiral again. "You're such a good kid."

"Dad, please." I release the hug. "I'm okay. Really."

"I know." He looks down at me, his blue eyes filled with equal parts concern and love. As stoic as he is—was, I guess—he's never shy about telling us he's proud.

I've always known I was loved.

It's just, sometimes, I had trouble believing it.

"You're going to do so well at Berkeley." His smile is soft. Caring. "I'm so proud of you, baby girl. I really am." He pulls me into another hug.

I hug him back. I'm scared too. I'm overwhelmed too. And, historically, I don't do too well with those feelings.

But I can't tell anyone. They'll dote even more. Wrap me in even more bubble wrap.

"If you need anything, call. Okay?" he asks.

"Okay."

"Money. A ticket home. Advice. Anything." He releases me. Looks me in the eyes. "You have condoms?"

"Dad—"

"I know you don't want to hear it. But if you're going to have sex, you need to be safe."

"We already—"

"I know." He shifts his backpack off his shoulder. Pulls something from it. A box of condoms.

They're just there.

Not wrapped or in plastic or in another bag.

Here for everyone to see.

"Oh my God." My cheeks flame red. "I already—"

"Your brother has extra. I told him not to crowd you. You're an adult. If you want to experience sex, you should. It can be a beautiful thing. It doesn't have to be serious. You don't have to be in love. But you do need to trust your partner."

"Dad, we already—"

"Humor me." He presses the box into my hand. "Tell me you'll be safe."

"I will."

"That you won't drink too much."

"I won't."

"That you'll only be with someone if you trust them. If they respect you."

God, please kill me now. People are staring. They're staring at the box. At me. At the awkward virgin sign on my forehead.

"Daisy?"

"I promise." Why does everyone think I'm aiming to lose my virginity this trip? God, does Dad know I'm a virgin? Has word gotten to him and Oliver?

"If you need anything, I'll get on the next flight."

I shove the box into my purse. It's huge. Two dozen condoms. More than anyone could use in a week.

Well. I guess I shouldn't put it past Oliver.

Or Holden even.

Ahem.

"I will." I hug Dad one more time. "I promise."

"I love you so much, baby girl."

"I love you too."

He squeezes me tightly for a long moment, then he releases me. Turns to our right. Nods hello.

Shakes hands with Holden. "How are you doing, son?"

"Good, sir." Holden smiles, suddenly respectful. It's bizarre. He's never serious. Ever.

"Gabe," Dad says. "You know 'sir' makes me feel old."

"It suits you. You have a real issuing orders vibe," Holden teases.

Dad just laughs. No, he laughs knowingly. Like he—

Ew.

So gross.

So, so gross.

I don't care how hot Luna finds him; I don't want to picture that.

"Are you going to take care of my daughter?" Dad asks Holden.

Holden nods. "Of course." He turns to me. Holds up his boarding pass. "You ready to go?"

No. But I'm not sure I'll ever be ready. "Getting there."

He motions to the stairs, where Oliver and Luna are sipping iced drinks, watching.

Luna waves hey. Holds up my iced tea.

We have an audience.

I guess I should get used to it.

Chapter Seven

Daisy

Mmm. Tea number two.

English breakfast with a touch of honey and a dash of milk.

Sweet, creamy, rich caffeine.

From the Peet's Coffee in the terminal. The line is always shorter, even though their tea is so much better.

I'm still getting into tea. It feels safe. Easy.

There's something about the warmth filling my mouth, throat, stomach.

It's comforting. Like a hug.

This is a classic black tea. A robust blend of Assam and Ceylon. It lacks the nuance of something like Lapsang Souchang or Yunnan. But it's just tea, all tea. Not a tea flavored with oil or spices, like Earl Grey or Chai.

Not that I'd turn down either.

I love trying different blends. Different flavors. Lychee rose, chocolate chai, Market Spice. Anything. Everything. So long as it's warm and comforting.

I swallow another sip of English Breakfast. It isn't the finest drink in the world. It's hard to really brew tea right at a coffee shop. It always comes out too strong. Or not strong enough.

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