Page 86 of Breakaway Goal

Hudson and Tuck have apparently been nursing hangovers all day long.

“Know what’s good to cure the post-hangover doldrums?” Tuck says. “Candy.” He shoves his hand into the basket and grabs a fistful.

“I don’t think that’s true, but fuck it.” Hudson mimics his action, and they sit down next to each other, peeling open Snickers, Milkyways, and Reese’s.

My phone vibrates with a message from Jasmine. She was gushing about what a great time she had with Chris last night—so good that they’re going on another date tonight. She keeps texting me updates.

I’m excited for her. Chris sounds promising, and I know she’s been wanting to find a steady relationship lately.

I hand the pumpkin basket off to Lane to go to the bathroom. When I walk back down, a sharppsstfrom Rhys draws my attention.

Just like at the party last night, he’s standing by the back door at the end of the kitchen, indicating for us to sneak away to get a moment to ourselves. Excitement simmers through me as I bounce over, loving the look of hunger that flashes in his eyes.

His hands are running up and down my side the second we step out. He pushes me against the wall, the hard planes and sharp contours of his torso pressing against my soft curves. Excitement draws tight between my thighs while our lips slant.

“I’m gonna fucking die if we don’t find a way to be alone tomorrow,” he sighs into my ear.

I giggle, resting my hands on his trim hips. “I’ll try to convince Jasmine to go on another date with Chris.”

Wind wooshes past his teeth. “I’ll pay for their dinner if they promise to take about three hours eating it.”

I roll my eyes, swatting at his chest. “Let’s go back out front, they’ll start wondering where we are.”

When we settle back in our chairs out front, I can’t help but think how nice it would be to curl up in his lap without caring who sees.

44

RHYS

Ikill the motor of my bike and push open the kick stop after pulling into a parking space at the Fleming Museum of Art in Burlington.

Then, I do the unusual part of my parking routine—I pull my helmet off.

I’ve never worn a helmet while riding before. It’s not that I’m reckless or careless or anything; I just never gave it too much thought. I liked the feeling of the wind whipping through my hair and streaking past my face. In my mind, giving up that feeling wasn’t worth the precaution.

Until a couple weeks ago, Maddie looked up at me with those damn eyes of hers and told me,I really wish you’d wear a helmet when you ride.

I bought my first helmet that day, and I’ve worn it every time I’ve been on my bike since.

Maddie and I are meeting here for a sneaky date in the middle of the week. She took the bus down while I rode my bike, because there’s no way I’m letting her get on this thing. Motorcycles are dangerous, and she means too much to me to put at risk.

Honestly, I’ve been thinking about getting a car just so I could drive us around. It would make getting the two of us out from under the eye of her brother or other people we know easier.

Images of us having date nights at nice restaurants, or doing cute things like going to farmer’s markets or apple picking dance through my brain, and my cheeks warm with a smile.

Man, I’m really getting sappy these days. And I don’t have any intention of checking those tendencies where Maddie Larsen is concerned.

I leave my helmet on my seat and walk into the museum. My pulse stutters when my eyes sweep the lobby and find her sitting down on one of the benches as she waits for me.

My jaw muscles arc, and I pull in a sharp breath through my nose at the sight of what she has on.

She wears a dark green skirt with black leggings that have sparks firing in my brain. The way the black fabric goes thin and shows the light complexion of her skin on her bent knees while she sits is something I know I’m going to be recalling dozens of times as I fist myself in the shower.

Above it, she has a pale yellow sweater, and she wears her hair in a tight bun. It’s taking every ounce of self-control I can summon not to scoop her up and march her to the nearest closet.

She spots me, and an excited expression comes alive on her face. Seeing her excited to see me makes my heart leap in my chest. It’s a high better than any drug.

She stands up to greet me as I stroll over. “Enjoy your bus ride down?” I ask.

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