Page 30 of Breakaway Goal

I fish my phone from my pocket, and we follow each other.

I’m actually exchanging Instagram accounts with a cute guy I have things in common with. A sort of giddy feeling bubbles through me. I try not to let it lifttoohigh of a smile onto my lips.

After all, to James, this might be a totally platonic gesture.

Even though the boyish grin on his face and the sparkle in his eyes as they hold contact with my own through the rest of lunch sure doesn’t feel platonic.

14

RHYS

Iput my shopping basket on the ground at the grocery store just long enough to grab a frozen pizza, but when I turn back to it, something’s not right.

I’m looking at a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips. In my grocery basket. Something Idefinitelydid not put in there. If there’s one food in the world I can’t stand, it’s salt and vinegar potato chips. Everyone who knows me knows that.

I regard them blankly for a beat of time, until it hits me, and a grin carves on my mouth.

“Maddie,” I call out, looking side to side. “Where are you?”

Flutters swirl through me when I hear her bubbly giggle. She steps around a display of bread she was hiding behind, and heat laces through my bloodstream. Because holyfuck.

The first thing my eyes latch onto is the way the curve of her hips hugs the pair of black jeans she has on. She’s wearing a chambray shirt with the top button undone, revealing a glimpse of her chest, the smooth, healthy glow of her skin instantly making my cock twitch.

My cock does a lot more than twitch when my gaze finally snags onto her lips. She’s wearing lipstick, a light shade of redthat accentuates the heart shape of her pretty mouth. I have to snatch up my grocery basket and hold it in front of my hips to keep the outline of my erection from showing.

I shove all the thoughts about those red lips that I shouldn’t be having out of my head. I grab the offending bag of chips and hold it up at the corner between my thumb and index finger, like I can hardly bear touching it.

“Really, Maddie?” I ask.

She laughs. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice until check out.”

I slice my gaze to the chips dangling between my fingers. I shrug and drop them back into the basket. “What the hell, they can be a surprise for Lane.”

Maddie famously shares my hatred for salt and vinegar potato chips—but Lane famously loves them. In fact, they’re his favorite snack. Somehow, I’ve managed not to let it get in the way of our friendship, even though it’s a heavy indictment against his taste and judgment.

The reason a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips makes Maddie and me laugh like idiots is because of a memory from three years ago. Lane and I were back home after our freshman year at Brumehill, and the three of us drove down to the beach one weekend.

On the way back home, we were stuck in an awful traffic jam for hours. We hadn’t eaten all day, and the only thing to eat in the car was a family-sized bag of salt and vinegar potato chips that Lane had brought along. Maddie and I were so desperate to quell our rumbling stomachs that we stuffed our faces with them, groaning about how disgusting they were with every bite.

“So, what did you come here for, other than to give me traumatic flashbacks about these disgusting chips?” I ask Maddie, shifting my shopping basket to my side now that my cock has calmed down.

“Not really sure, honestly,” she says as we meander down the nearest aisle. “I’ve just kind of missed cooking now that I’m living in a dorm, and I thought that while I’m staying with you guys and your real kitchen, I’d taken advantage of it and cook something for everyone tonight. I thought I’d just wander around for a bit and see if I spot an ingredient that gives me an idea.”

As chance would have it, we happen to be passing the pasta selection. I grab a container of lasagna sheets from the shelf.

“What do you think?” I ask Maddie with a boyish grin as I bounce the box of pasta in my hands “Treat the boys to some famous Rhys and Maddie Lasagna?”

She folds her arms in front of her chest and quirks an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Don’t you meanMaddie and RhysLasagna?”

Another silly inside joke of ours.

Years back, I went over to her house one day looking for Lane, but he was out doing something. Maddie had recently gotten into cooking and was excited to try to make some lasagna from scratch, homemade tomato sauce and all. I helped her cook it, adding a couple interesting twists to the recipe, while waiting for Lane.

When we served up the tray to Lane and his parents, it got rave reviews. We’ve cooked it together a couple more times since.

There’s something about making a meal together with Maddie that feels so fucking good. Those are some of my favorite memories. My chest is warming just thinking about doing it again.

I scrunch up my face in response to her retort. “Maddie and Rhys Lasagna?” I question in a disdainful voice. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of it. Sounds disgusting. Rhys and Maddie Lasagna,on the other hand, is well known and beloved, so let’s stick with that.”

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