Page 62 of Breakaway Goal

Rhys reaches down to grab a fortuitously discarded towel right next to my bed, cleaning himself up where his release spilled on his hard muscles.

This would be the perfect time to drop my head to his chest, for both of us to drift into a blissful nap as we’re sated and spent.

Would be, if this weren’t a secret arrangement between us, and Rhys didn’t have to hurry up and get dressed before Jasmine gets back.

We linger for as long as we can, letting our unraveled senses recover. There’s the strangest sense of comfort mingled with an unsure awkwardness as we’re getting dressed at the distance of a pace from each other.

This thing we’re doing still feels like it rests on unstable foundations, and I’m not sure whether or how it’ll change things between us.

All I know is I sure as hell don’t regret what just happened. And when Rhys pulls me close and teases me by asking whether this particular firstwasn’t disappointing, the twinkle dancing in his eyes tells me he feels the same.

When he leaves, I collapse on my bed, replaying what just happened in my mind over and over again, and looking forward to more.

32

MADDIE

My biggest fear about crossing the line with Rhys was that it would change things between us.

But when he sneaks up behind me as I’m hunched over my Art History textbook in the library studying for a big exam, reaches over my shoulder to scoop it up, and plays keep away holding it high above my head for three minutes while other students shoot interested, amused, or annoyed glances our way, I know for sure that hasn’t happened.

“Come on!” I plead, trying to hold back the laughter bubbling in my chest so we don’t make an even bigger scene in the library.

His eyes gleam with boyish mischief. “Say please,” he teases.

I press my lips tight and grit out, “Please.”

He tilts his head, his sharp features pinching with thought. “Actually, saypretty please.”

My eyes narrow. “Pretty please.”

“Hmm,” he muses, tapping his index finger on his chin. “Actually, say—ow!”

He doesn’t get to finish that sentence, because I kick him in the shin. I hold out my hand, and he places my textbook into it, laughing while he shakes his leg.

“You don’t play fair, Maddie,” he says.

I balk. “Idon’t play fair!? You’re the one using your completely unnecessary height to keep me from studying.” I scoff. “Who needs to be six-foot-threeanyway? It’s excessive.”

He chuckles, pulling out a chair and lowering his big frame into it.

Even though Rhys Callahan’s kissed me in ways that have made my brain melt, raked his lips all over my naked body, and made me come so hard that I saw stars, sitting here with him doesn’t feel awkward at all.

We both have big exams coming up, so we agreed to meet here and study together. Rhys takes out his Biology textbook, and for a while we just share the table, eyes pouring over our textbooks while we take notes.

Even though nothing’s awkward, it wouldn’t be quite right to say that nothing’s changed. There’s an extra spark in the air between us that wasn’t there before. The parts of my body that Rhys’s lips have covered burn with the memory of his touch at intervals.

And I’m a lot less surreptitious about the way I let my gaze eat him up. Rhys has his waxed jacket hung on the back of his chair, and he’s pulled up the sleeves on the long-sleeve t-shirt he’s wearing underneath, revealing his thick, corded forearms.

Next time we’re behind closed doors together, I’m going to lick those forearms like lollypops.

I force my attention back to my Art History book.

People who don’t know what they’re talking about might think it’s a fluffy class, but it’s incredibly information-dense. Each quiz so far has required an encyclopedic knowledge of the content, and the professor warned us that the upcoming exam is going to be even more demanding, not to mention about three times longer than the quizzes have been.

Rhys blows a raspberry through his lip, burying his face in his hands after about forty minutes of concentration.

“Can’t they just give everyone an A and be done with it?” he groans. “It would be so much easier.”

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