Page 76 of Breakaway Goal

“Come on, Rhys, wingman us!” Carter pleads.

“Wing-man,” Sebastian says in a low, chanting voice.

“Wing-man,” Lane joins in with the same cadence.

Suddenly, all the guys, even fucking Hudson, are chantingWing-manat me like I’m in the middle of some damn cult ritual.

“Fine!” I snap. I sigh and down the rest of my beer in one swing, ordering another one before heading over. I’m really not in the mood to pretend to give a shit about any girl other than Maddie, but I feel like if I resist any harder, suspicions might be raised.

My chest sinks as I walk over with Sebastian and Carter, and we introduce ourselves. A sort of guilty feeling wraps around my stomach, that I’m going to be taking up another girl’s time, not even able to work up the ability to pretend to be interested in her.

In less than sixty seconds, Carter and Sebastian are locked in on their respective girls, who clearly reciprocate the interest.

The girl I’m talking to is named Charlotte—and I’m honestly relieved by the fact that she seems as unenthused to be here right now as I am.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” she says to me, an icy undertone to her voice, “my friends dragged me out, and I just wish I were home right now.”

I grin, relieved. “We’re on the same page, then. I got dragged over, too. My two friends are on the prowl and didn’t want to enter a two-on-three situation.”

A shadow of suspicion hangs in her gaze. “Don’t just say that thinking you’ll ingratiate yourself, hockey boy.”

I bark out a laugh at her nickname. She might recognize who I am, but she doesn’t seem impressed by it, which is refreshing. “Not at all.”

“Because I’m taken. Well, not exactly taken, but …”

“It’s complicated?”

She rolls her eyes. “Something like that.”

“Trust me, I get it.”

“Are youit’s complicated, too?”

I huff a laugh. “Something like that.”

She snorts and holds out her beer bottle. “To complications and being forced into unwanted positions by our friends.”

I clank my beer against hers. “Here, here.”

We’re both able to let our guards down and chat a little bit as our four friends engage in more intimate conversation.

Turns out Charlotte is training to be a tattoo artist. We end up talking about our tattoos, our best and worst tattoo experiences, and how much more art we want to have done in the future.

It ends up being a pretty decent time.

After a little while, Charlotte suggests, “Think if we walk out together and go our separate ways home, our friends won’t give us shit about it?”

I drain the last of my beer and set it down with a thud on the bar counter. “You’re a genius, Charlotte.”

I hold the door open for her and give her a nod and a smile as it closes behind us. “Good luck with your tattoo apprenticeship. And with yourcomplication, whatever it is.”

“Back at you,” she answers, and then she turns to head to the bus stop.

I’m sinking my hands into my pockets for my walk home in the crisp air, when Hudson’s voice shocks me. “Struck out?”

I jump with a startle. “Hudson, what the fuck? You’re teleporting now?”

He pushes off against the outside wall of the bar that he was leaning against. He holds up the phone in his hand. “Stepped out for a phone call.”

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