Page 44 of Breakaway Goal

“It might be,” Jasmine sings in a low, insinuating voice, nudging me more and more until we both laugh.

I know I set the goal of losing my virginity this semester. It’s already October. I let a whole month pass by making no progress on the guy front until this date. James seems into me. Maybe I should be open to hooking up with him sooner than later.

Anxiety twists in my chest at the thought. I try to search to see if there are any feelings of excitement, of anticipation, laced with it, but I can’t find any. But that doesn’t mean anything, right?

Jasmine brings me back to reality when she tilts her head to the side and says, “Looks like love’sreallyin the air.”

We’re at Last Word. The café-bookshop takes up every floor of a beautiful old three-story rowhome, with the ground floor a coffee shop featuring delicious sweet treats, and the top two floors filled with books.

Jasmine’s directing my attention to the counter of the café. The owner of Last Word, Cindy, is behind it with an apron tied on, and the customer on the other side is the owner of the ramen shop in town.

I look just in time to see him dip down with her hand held daintily in his and place a kiss to the back of it. He shoots her a sly wink and then turns around with his order of coffee, leaving Cindy blushing and suppressing a giggle.

They’re an odd couple if there ever was one, but they sure seem into each other.

“It could beJameskissing your hand like that before long,” Jasmine says, lowering her voice to add, “not to mention other parts of you.”

“Whatever,” I laugh bashfully before taking a sip of my coffee.

James is cute, nice, we have things in common, and, most importantly, he actually seems interested in me.

I just wish I knew why the thought of kissing him doesn’t make me feel anything.

21

RHYS

“Date?” I ask, my voice suddenly a growl.

“Yeah,” Lane says as he lies down for bench press reps. “With some guy in one of her art classes.”

My jaw ticks. I think back to a couple days ago, at the park, when my eyes dipped to her mouth, and I saw her soft, slick lips gently open; then I imagine some other asshole kissing those lips.

Jealousy rockets through me like a white-hot electric current. My hands curl into tight fists at my side.

“Who is he?” I ask, trying to keep the hostility level in my voice somewhat belowMurderous Rage. I’m not sure how successful I am.

Lane shrugs. “Dunno. Like I said, some guy in one of her art classes.”

My brow pinches. “You’re not worried? What if this guy’s, like, some … sleazy womanizer? Or a serial killer?”

Lane’s chest shakes with laughter. “You know Maddie, dude. I’m not worried about her. She can take care of herself.”

Now I think back to something else. That interview Lane had with the student paper at the beginning of the semester. When he said there was no one on the team he’d be okay with dating Maddie.

Maybe he was just putting on an act, if he’s so relaxed about her going out with some random guy whose name he doesn’t even know?

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” he says, reaching up to wrap his grip around the weight bar, “there are definitely guys out there who I wouldn’t want my sister getting involved with. But I don’t think Maddie would go for those kind of guys anyway. I’m not worried about her judgment.”

An unpleasant feeling ripples through me. My lips tug downward.

Yeah, I bet there are guys Lane wouldn’t want his sister getting involved with. I’m probably one of them.

I spot Lane while he does his reps. But I’m still thinking about Maddie going on a date with this guy from her art class. It doesn’t sit right with me. Some of the guys in the art department can be real sleazy. Maybe Lane thinks they’re all harmless nerdy types, but I know better.

Lane sits up to take a break between sets, stretching his muscles.

“So, where are they going?” I ask.

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