Page 47 of Breakaway Goal

Rhys scoffs. “Good? It’sgreat. You’re great at painting people, Maddie. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

With that, he shoots James another hard, accusing look, as ifhecriticized me rather than me just having a simple conversation with him about my strengths and weaknesses as an artist.

When Rhys turns away, James’s eyebrows draw together, and he gives me a questioning tilt of his head. Rhys is completely ruining my first date, and I wish I could turn around and punch him in the chest.

Did Lane put him up to this? Is he just doing this out of stupid, macho protectiveness?

I just shrug my shoulders and shake my head, too exasperated to know what to say.

The overhead lights turn off, and I’ve never been more thankful for movie previews in my life. At least for the next two hours, Rhys will have to keep his mouth shut.

I’ve been looking forward to watching this movie for years, but now that it’s playing in front of me, I can’t get into it. I’m too distracted by being mad at Rhys, by being embarrassed over having a catastrophe of a first date, by the feeling of Rhys’s jagged arm that’s crowding me thanks to his stupidly broadshoulders, by his characteristic woodsy scent that I can detect even over the smell of popcorn in the air.

When the movie ends, I practically push James up out of his seat and into the aisle, wanting to hasten out of this movie theater and away from Rhys.

If he tries to interject himself into any more of our date—if it’s even salvageable at this point—I don’t know if I’m going to be able to resist reaching out and pinching one of his nipples on his stupid, muscular, tattooed chest. He sure as heck deserves it.

When we exit the auditorium, though, James says he needs to go to the bathroom. This date is going bad enough that I hardly need to make it even worse by demanding he hold it in just so we can hightail it away from my older brother’s overbearing best friend.

I wait for him in the lobby, taking a minute to stand in front of a small, thin mirror that adorns one of the columns. I’m wearing a sweater over a polo shirt with the collar peeking through the crew neck of the sweater, and it got kind of disarranged while sitting.

Frustration crawls down my back when I see Rhys appear in the lobby, his date following a couple paces behind him.

She looks like she’s totally over it, and I don’t blame her. He hasn’t paid any attention to her at all, and even now, he’s swiveling his neck, obviously looking for me.

His date says something to him, and then she heads to the bathroom, too. As she walks away, his eyes finally find mine in the reflection.

Anger and frustration rattle through me. Before Rhys can even take a step forward to me, I turn on my heels and march toward him, the set of my jaw hard.

“What the hell was all that about?” I demand, straightening my back to confront him.

“What was what about?” he asks, but there’s no conviction in his voice, and the self-consciousness that clouds his eyes gives him away.

I set my brow straight and firm, not letting him wiggle out of this. “Why did you feel the need to ruin my date?”

Guilt casts a shadow over his face. “What do you mean? It was just a coincide?—”

I stop him. “Yeah, sure. A coincidence that you showed up here. A coincidence that you ignored your own date all night. A coincidence that you sat right next to us. A coincidence that you kept butting into our conversation.”

With each point I hammer, Rhys’s expression pulls with a wince.

“James and I are going somewhere to eat after this,” I say, although I wouldn’t blame him and won’t be surprised if he just wants to go home, “and we’d really appreciatenothaving your company.”

Before Rhys has the chance to say anything else, I turn around and march out the door. I send James a text that I’m waiting outside so he’ll know where to find me.

I don’t want to even share a movie theatre lobby with Rhys Callahan right now.

23

RHYS

The roar of the crowd is deafening as I slam Boston U’s left forward into the dasher board and come away with the puck.

It’s the first game of the season, and it’s been a barnburner.

We started shaky. Jamie’s new to the first line, and as good as he’s been in practice, he made some major errors in the first two periods of the game. At one point, we were down 0-3, the away team absolutely hammering us on our own rink.

To his credit, though, he didn’t let his mistakes get in his head. He rallied, and since the end of the second period, he’s been playing lights out, shutting down Boston U attackers and doing a hell of a job assisting our forwards.

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