Page 41 of Breakaway Goal

“Yeah.” She turns back to the scene in front of her, sighing a happy sigh. “Isn’t the view beautiful?”

I don’t take my eyes off her. “It sure is.”

My eyes trace the gentle slope of her neck, the curve of her chin, the outline of her cute nose, the swell of her pale pink lips, so full and plush.

Those lips that my own were so damn close to last week, when we tumbled to the floor in my living room, tangled together, and she landed on top of me.

Every day since, my own lips have tingled with the imagined sensation of what would have happened if I hadn’t stopped arcing my mouth toward hers as I lay underneath her, feeling the heave of her chest against mine.

It’s a stupid thought. It was all in my head, anyway. There’s no way that, when she parted her lips as her face hovered over mine, she meant anything other than to catch her breath after tripping.

“This town is so gorgeous,” Maddie continues. “Do you think you ever get used to a scene this beautiful? That it ever, I don’t know, loses its luster if you’ve lived here long enough?”

“If something’s really beautiful,” I say, keeping my gaze tethered to her profile as she looks at the foliage across the river, “I don’t think you ever get used to it. If it’s really, truly beautiful … I think it still makes your heart skip a beat every time you see it.”

She makes a low hum of acknowledgment. “And if you have to move, leaving it behind? Do you ever stop missing it?”

My throat feels tight, emotion slicing through my chest.

“If it’s beautiful enough? I think you keep missing it every single day.”

Maddie turns to me, and our eyes lock. Her irises are deep, perfect pools of blue, and I feel like I could drown in them and still breathe; I feel like I could drink nothing but the sight of her eyes and never need a glass of water.

Something crackles in my chest, a spark that has my nerves buzzing down to my fingertips. I pull in a deep breath through my nose, and Maddie’s vanilla scent mixes with the smells of the autumn outdoors, a concoction that sends a thrill shooting up and down my spine.

A lock of Maddie’s hair slips past her shoulder, fanning over her face. I reach out and brush it behind her ear with my index finger. The silky softness of her hair against my hand is enoughto send a jolt of exhilaration coursing through me, enough to thicken my blood, enough to coil the muscles low in my core.

I can’t fucking help it: as I pull my hand away from her, I let the tip of my finger trace the delicate outline of her jaw. It feels like sparks sizzle between our skin as the pad of my finger rakes gently across her creamy skin.

There must be something in the air making me crazy. Something about the way the slanted sun is shining behind the trees, its rays catching on the leaves and turning the horizon into a glorious blaze of golden light.

That’s the only explanation there is for me touching her like that, touching her in a way I have no excuse for.

Maddie’s response isn’t to ask me what I’m doing; it isn’t to shrink away.

Instead, she angles her body toward me, tentatively placing her hand on my leg. The pressure of her touch sends a blast of heat shooting through me, settling in my groin.

“Rhys?” My name is a breathless, unsteady question from her lips.

“Yeah?” My own voice is raspy and tight.

Something laces into the air, a heavy, tense immediacy that makes me feel like the two of us are encased in a bubble of our own. It’s a feeling that bends reality and makes me forget about everything other than the girl in front of me.

When I lift my hand, it feels like it’s moving through a dense, unstable electric charge; it’s as if the air could catch fire at any moment. And when I settle my hand, it settles on top of Maddie’s.

I don’t know if I move first. I don’t know if she moves first. All I know is that, suddenly, I’m aware that I’m inching toward her, and that she’s inching toward me. That her lips are parted, their pink softness glistening where the dapped sunlight falls on them through the leaves of the trees.

My gaze drops to her lips, and fire blasts through my bloodstream at the sight of her soft, red tongue behind them. That’s the last sight I see before my eyes flutter closed, our lips on a path to …

A metallic clang of bells reverberates in the air, clear and loud.

My eyes snap open. So do Maddie’s. She jerks back, her brow leaping in shock. I do the same, my heartbeat frantic in my chest.

There’s a church nearby that chimes its bells every hour, and the sound that rings in the air feels like it presses on us with the weight of a thousand pounds.

“It’s getting cold,” Maddie says, her voice shaky as she runs her palms up and down her arms.

“Yeah, right, cold,” I stutter, my voice hoarse, my mouth so dry I can’t swallow. I push myself up from the ground. “We should go home. Don’t want you to get sick.” All the while, I’m burning underneath my clothes, like I’m standing in front of an open furnace.

---