Page 5 of Breakaway Goal

MADDIE

There are some places where you’d rather not run into anyone you know. The condom aisle at the pharmacy is one of them.

But that’s exactly where I am—reaching for a pack, no less—when I hear the voice of my older brother’s best friend behind me.

“So, you come here often?”

My stomach dips, and a chill of embarrassment crawls up my spine. I couldn’t mistake the low, rumbly timbre of that voice for anyone else.

I turn around and find myself face to face with Rhys, right in front of the condom shelf.

My stomach was already dipping in embarrassment when I knew he was behind me, but now that Iseehim in front of me, my stomach is twisting into knots.

His high cheekbones, razor-sharp jaw, pouty lips, deep amber eyes, and his thick mop of jet-black hair are all things I’ve been acquainted with for as long as I can remember, but they never fail to make my heart do a funny sort of flip in my chest every time I see him.

Right now, there’s an extra twinkle in those amber eyes and a twitch on those pouty lips. Rhys is beaming with boyish glee over catching me in an embarrassing moment.

“Oh, you know it,” I snark back, collecting myself. “The condom section of Davis Pharmacy is totally my jam. I’m here all the time.”

Dimples carve into Rhys’s cheeks as he laughs. “Wow, didn’t know this is where all the cool kids hang out now.”

“That’s because you’re not one of them,” I quip.

His eyebrows leap. He covers his heart with his right hand, a motion that makes his huge, tattoo-covered bicep pop. “Ouch, talk about a low blow.”

I shrug. “Truth hurts.”

Rhys reaches out his right arm, thick with corded muscle and coated from his wrist up to his chest with ink, to grab the pack of condoms I was just reaching for off the shelf. I catch a whiff of his woodsy, cinnamon scent as his arm passes by my head, and I try to ignore what feels like an electric current traveling from my nose straight to my core.

His eyebrow quirks as he examines the case. “Snug-fit, huh?”

My cheeks feel so hot they could glow. “Well, uh,” I stutter, before gathering my wits and answering, “I don’t discriminate.”

Rhys doubles over at my words, peals of his laughter booming down the condom aisle.

I really had no idea what I was reaching for. I didn’t know they made so many kinds of condoms, or how the heck you’re supposed to choose between them. I have zero experience buying them, and that’s not because I’m against practicing safe sex.

It’s because I haven’t practicedanykind of sex.

Yep. As a twenty-year-old college sophomore, I’m still a virgin.

“Ohh, party in the condom section?” Jasmine, my best friend of twelve years and roommate of one day, exclaims as she saunters down the aisle toward us.

“You know it,” Rhys jests in reply.

Jasmine and I are here to do some shopping for our dorm room. Staples like paper towels, tissues, cleaning products, and basic over-the-counter medicine like aspirin.

She’s just coming back from the bathroom. Right as we were passing the condom aisle, she told me she had to go, asking me with a wink to pick up a pack of condoms as she speed-walked away, reasoning it would be good to have some in our dorm just in case.

And I’m sure she was reasoning to herself that it would be funny for me to be flustered and awkward trying to make a selection given my utter lack of experience. Jasmine and Rhys are my two closest friends, but both of them really do enjoy messing with me.

But messing with me is their way of nudging me out of my comfort zone. It’s probably a good thing, honestly. Otherwise, I might never leave it.

“Catch,” Rhys says, tossing the pack of condoms in Jasmine’s direction.

She snags them from the air. “Snug-fit, huh?” She smirks at me. “Good call, Maddie.”

I roll my eyes.

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