Page 79 of Breakaway Goal

When we’re alone in the secluded, unlit area, Rhys’s hands immediately shoot to my waist, and his mouth presses to mine.He sweeps his tongue across the seam of my lips, his grip curling into the dip of my waist.

“Couldn’t wait another fucking second,” he says when he pulls back, his voice hoarse. He shakes his head as he looks down at me. “Gatsby would forget Daisy in a second if he saw you at a jazz club dressed like that.”

The way he’s looking at me is making my cheeks blush so bright and hot that I have to look away and slap at his chest. That compliment was so cheesy it really shouldn’t make me feel as gushy as I do right now.

“I like your costume, too,” I say. “The baggy eyes and hair standing up in a hundred directions really works on you. You should go for the zombie look more often.”

“I’ll tell you one thing,” Rhys says, “the dead aren’t the only thing that’s rising right now.”

Peals of laughter burst through as Rhys tugs me closer to him, and my stomach flips when an outline in his thigh-hugging baseball pants confirms that he’s not lying.

“You know,” I say with a sly tone, “Jasmine’s been hitting it off with this guy tonight. It’s possible my dorm room will be available later.”

Heat flashes in his eyes. “Fuck, Maddie, these pants are tight enough as it is without me thinking about that all night.”

I press a kiss to the sharp edge of his jaw and giggle. “I’ll keep you posted.”

40

RHYS

I’m trying to get into the festive mood of the party and enjoy myself, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than how fucking good Maddie looks and whether or not I’m going to be ending this night the way I want to: being the one to remove her costume.

I keep searching out Jasmine and the guy she’s been talking to in the crowd to make sure they’re still looking appropriately smitten with each other. Never before have I cared so much about whether or not a guy succeeds in bringing a girl back to his place. It’s like I’m rooting for my favorite NHL team in a playoff game.

Maddie’s by the couch, talking to a guy she’s acquainted with from one of her art classes.

I know I need to work on myself a little, because there’s a twinge of jealousy twisting through me even though the guy’s girlfriend is literally standing right by them and talking with them, too.

Not to mention the fact that I have no right to be jealous, because Maddie and I aren’t in a relationship …

Luckily, Hudson’s voice pulls my attention before I can wallow in the negativity of that thought.

“Rhys, dude, there’s something wrong with this carton of Pringles, I can’t get it open. Try it.” He hands it out to me.

I take it from him. That’s weird. Hudson’s got monster strength, and anyone can pop the plastic top off a carton of Pringles. Maybe it somehow got sealed to the carton during the packaging process? I dunno.

Either way, I give it a try.

It pops off easily—and a snake plushy gets launched into my face by a spring.

I gasp and jump back in shock. Of course, everyone around me cracks up.

I narrow my gaze at Hudson, who’s wearing an uncharacteristic grin. He’s the last guy in the house I’d expect a prank from—which is why it worked, I guess.

“Damn it, Hudson,” I groan.

Tuck wraps his arm around Hudson’s shoulders, grinning ear-to-ear. “Bestie, that was incredible. I’m proud enough to kiss you.”

The two improbable best friends start wrestling with each other as Hudson tries to keep Tuck from planting a smooch on his stubble-covered cheek.

A couple more hours pass. As the clock approaches twelve, the whole party decides to do a New Year’s Eve-style countdown for the last ten seconds, as midnight officially marks Halloween day.

About half an hour after that, I’m chilling outside, getting some respite from the heat of the packed and stuffy house, sipping on a beer with Sebastian.

When he excuses himself to go to the bathroom, Maddie slips next to me. “Jasmine’s leaving with Chris,” she says, her voice low and zesty with suggestion.

My lips curl, and heat tips into my bloodstream. “Then so are we,” I growl.

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