Page 65 of Breakaway Goal

My head feels heavy with sleep, and that surreal feeling of waking up after a totally unexpected nap still hangs on each ofmy senses. I turn my eyes to Maddie, and the breath hitches in my chest.

My vision is still a little blurry, and the sight of Maddie next to me is fucking … ethereal.

The edges of my vision are hazier than the center, and the way Maddie stands out sharper than her surroundings in my gaze right now enhances her beauty. It feels like I’m in the middle of a dense fog, but Maddie is the one, single bright light that I can clearly distinguish through the obscurity.

Time draws out as my gaze stays locked on her. It feels like I’m still in the middle of a dream. Especially as memories of what Maddie and I did last week rush to my imagination while I’m still staggered with grogginess and my mind still feels slurred.

Is this truly the real world, where I know what Maddie looks like underneath that green hoodie she’s wearing, where I know how perfectly pink her nipples are and how sharp they get when I’m dragging my fingers through her arousal, where I know how fucking sweet her moans are while I make her unravel with pleasure?

There’s a sort of underwater, slow-motion feeling in my consciousness as I look at Maddie, feeling dreaminess still buzzing through my limbs.

Is this really reality, where I actually know what it feels like to have her delicate, soft hands wrapped around my cock? Am I still dreaming?

But it must be reality, because I’ve never had a dream where I feel a sharp, throbbing ache at the base of my dick like I do right now. My erection strains against my jeans to the rhythm of my heartbeat.

Then Maddie confirms I’m awake by lightly kicking my shin under the table. “Don’t fall back asleep,” she says in a reproachful voice.

I shake my head vigorously, trying to throw the cobwebs off my brain. “I’m awake, I’m awake,” I protest. I straighten my back and stretch my arms, letting out a long yawn. “You should’ve woken me earlier.”

A shy smile curls on Maddie’s lips. “I was too busy working on this.”

She shows me her sketchpad. A smile pulls on my lips when I see what she’s drawn.

It’s a sketch of me, my face collapsed against my open textbook, my eyes closed, my mouth open, my messy hair ruffled as I doze off.

I fucking love it.

“Wow,” I say, my heart practically melting at the idea of Maddie taking time away from her studies to sketch me just because she liked the way I look asleep. “You really captured my essence as a lazy piece of shit who stuffs himself with junk food and falls asleep at the library when he should be studying.”

She laughs. “That’s exactly what I was going for.”

A desire swells in my chest. “Hey, you know what would be cool? If you painted a picture of us. Together.” It’s not something she’s ever painted or drawn before, and it suddenly dawns on me that if she did, it would be my most prized possession. I’d treasure that painting for the rest of my life, hanging it up somewhere I could see it every day.

A ruddy color floods the apples of her cheeks. “You think?”

“Definitely,” I nod. “I’d love to have something like that.”

Love. Using that word in the context I just did almost feels dangerous. Too close to the mark.

Maddie may have come to me because she trusts me to help her experience the things she’s missed out on, but that doesn’t mean she feels anything close to the way I do about her.

“Okay,” she nods, the smile on her lips so beautiful it feels like a stab to the heart, but somehow in a good way. “I’ll work on one.”

“Good,” I answer. And then, to avoid falling into a trance and spending the entire fucking night gazing at Maddie, which I absolutely think I’m capable of doing, I push my chair back and stand up. “We should probably head back.”

“Yeah,” Maddie answers, rising to her feet. She picks up the box of cookies and shakes them, the sound revealing there’s still some left. “Want the rest?” she asks.

“Nah. I’ve had enough to eat.” I’m going to have to have a salad for lunch tomorrow as penance for how badly I ran afoul of my diet tonight. If Coach knew what I fed myself considering we have another game in a couple of days, he’d rip me three new assholes.

“Can I keep the drawing?” I ask as Maddie reaches for her sketchpad.

Her pretty blue eyes light up. “You want it?”

“Of course I do.”

She nods, the smile on her lips shedding some of its shyness. “Okay.”

She carefully detaches the page and hands it to me. I hold it in front of me, admiring it. It’s a really, really fucking good drawing, and the fact that Maddie saw me asleep and wanted to take time away from studying to make it … I don’t know, it just pulls at something in my chest. I like it a lot.

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