Chapter 32
32
MADDIE
M y biggest fear about crossing the line with Rhys was that it would change things between us.
But when he sneaks up behind me as I’m hunched over my Art History textbook in the library studying for a big exam, reaches over my shoulder to scoop it up, and plays keep away holding it high above my head for three minutes while other students shoot interested, amused, or annoyed glances our way, I know for sure that hasn’t happened.
“Come on!” I plead, trying to hold back the laughter bubbling in my chest so we don’t make an even bigger scene in the library.
His eyes gleam with boyish mischief. “Say please,” he teases.
I press my lips tight and grit out, “Please.”
He tilts his head, his sharp features pinching with thought. “Actually, say pretty please .”
My eyes narrow. “Pretty please.”
“Hmm,” he muses, tapping his index finger on his chin. “Actually, say—ow!”
He doesn’t get to finish that sentence, because I kick him in the shin. I hold out my hand, and he places my textbook into it, laughing while he shakes his leg.
“You don’t play fair, Maddie,” he says.
I balk. “ I don’t play fair!? You’re the one using your completely unnecessary height to keep me from studying.” I scoff. “Who needs to be six-foot- three anyway? It’s excessive.”
He chuckles, pulling out a chair and lowering his big frame into it.
Even though Rhys Callahan’s kissed me in ways that have made my brain melt, raked his lips all over my naked body, and made me come so hard that I saw stars, sitting here with him doesn’t feel awkward at all.
We both have big exams coming up, so we agreed to meet here and study together. Rhys takes out his Biology textbook, and for a while we just share the table, eyes pouring over our textbooks while we take notes.
Even though nothing’s awkward, it wouldn’t be quite right to say that nothing’s changed. There’s an extra spark in the air between us that wasn’t there before. The parts of my body that Rhys’s lips have covered burn with the memory of his touch at intervals.
And I’m a lot less surreptitious about the way I let my gaze eat him up. Rhys has his waxed jacket hung on the back of his chair, and he’s pulled up the sleeves on the long-sleeve t-shirt he’s wearing underneath, revealing his thick, corded forearms.
Next time we’re behind closed doors together, I’m going to lick those forearms like lollypops.
I force my attention back to my Art History book.
People who don’t know what they’re talking about might think it’s a fluffy class, but it’s incredibly information-dense. Each quiz so far has required an encyclopedic knowledge of the content, and the professor warned us that the upcoming exam is going to be even more demanding, not to mention about three times longer than the quizzes have been.
Rhys blows a raspberry through his lip, burying his face in his hands after about forty minutes of concentration.
“Can’t they just give everyone an A and be done with it?” he groans. “It would be so much easier.”
I push his head playfully. The soft, thick tuft of his hair feels so good against my palm. “Doesn’t it feel better to earn a good grade?”
“No.”
I laugh, leaning back in my chair to stretch. “Let’s take a study break.”
Rhys slams his textbook shut with enthusiasm. “Cosigned.” His bear paw of a hand taps his stomach. “Snack run?”
My own stomach rumbles. I haven’t eaten since lunch. “Sure.”
In an instant, Rhys is on his feet, and he doesn’t wait for me to stand up. His hands are suddenly underneath my arms, and he’s lifting me effortlessly from my chair.
A giddy thrill flashes in my chest at the weightless feeling as Rhys’s powerful arms easily scoop me up so high that I only need to curl my knees for him to glide me over the backrest of the chair and set me down on the other side.
A tingling feeling scatters between my thighs when I’m back on solid ground. I take a moment to let my eyes appreciate the muscles that allowed Rhys to scoop me up like I were nothing more than one of his new pillows.
“Let’s go,” he says, striding forward and playfully jostling me with his shoulder as he passes. “I’d gawk back, but I’m too hungry right now.” He adds a roguish wink that has my stomach doing something funny.
I hustle to catch up with him as he’s already a couple strides toward the elevator.
Yeah, it definitely wouldn’t be right to say that nothing’s changed between us.
Even when we’re just hanging out as friends, he’s freer with his touch than he’s ever been before.
His teasing is starting to feel more like flirting. I’m trying not to be too shameless in the way I ogle him, but no longer needing to be guarded about how attractive I find him has lifted a weight from my chest that I never knew was there. It makes each of our interactions somehow more … honest.
It almost feels like we’re a couple.
Immediately, I reprimand myself for the thought. Rhys is just helping me with something because I broke down and begged him to do it. Once we have sex, and I get the regret-free first time that I asked him for, we’ll go back to being just friends.
The thought settles coldly in my stomach. I shake off the feeling as Rhys punches the button to the first floor and the elevator doors close on us.
This is Rhys’s senior year, and it’s unlikely that we’ll ever be living close to each other again after this. I shouldn’t waste any of the precious moments I have left hanging out with one of my best friends on feeling morose.
It’s dark when we step outside the library. There’s still a pale, twilight-blue tinge of setting sunlight on the limit of the horizon, while the sky above us is already spread with black and speckled with stars. It’s a chilly night with still air. We’re well into October by now, and it feels the way it should.
“Oh, no,” I realize, glancing at Rhys as we walk down the front steps of the library. “You forgot your jacket. Should we go back up?”
He tilts a shoulder. “Nah. I’m good.” Then he adds with a wry tone and a twitch on his lips, “I’ll just stand closer to you for warmth.”
He does just that, the side of his arm nudging against mine. Even through my jacket, heat radiates off him. Those muscles stacked on his frame must turn his body into a furnace.
We walk through campus in the direction of the closest corner store, quite literally side to side. I pull in a deep breath through my nose, fragrant with autumnal tones, enjoying the bracing chill it brings to my chest.
A gentle breeze stirs up the sound of dried leaves scraping against the stone walkways, the lighting around campus throws a calming and atmospheric yellow hue, and everything feels so perfectly seasonal.
“Did you have dinner today?” I ask Rhys when we step inside the store a block from campus.
It wasn’t too cold outside, but the warm interior feels good after the stroll through the chilly October air.
“Nope,” he answers. “Not since lunch.” He adds a laugh. “Coach is going to kill me if he knew what my dinner tonight is about to be.”
We both have the same idea, walking right past the coolers that offer salads and sandwiches, straight to the snack section.
“I’m not the only one in the mood for the most unhealthy food known to man?” I ask with a giggle.
“Absolutely not,” Rhys says, proving the truth of his words by snatching up a Zebra Cake.
I grab some Skittles, an oatmeal cream pie, and a packet of mini frosted donuts. “Ugh, my stomach hurts just thinking about eating this for dinner, but I can’t help it,” I groan.
Rhys reaches for a box of chocolate chip cookies. “We’re being self-destructive.”
With our arms loaded full of junk food, we walk to the checkout.
“Wait,” Rhys says, “we should get one healthy thing.”
My stomach crunches with laughter when he then reaches for a large bag of cheddar Sun Chips.
“Oh, yeah,” I snark, “now we’re eating clean.”
And like every time we get something to eat together, two peach teas complete our purchase.
Remembering our shopping trip for lasagna ingredients from a couple weeks ago, I quickly grab the handles of the plastic bags on the counter before Rhys can snatch them.
“I’m carrying this time,” I announce primly.
The square between Rhys’s eyebrows scrunches up. It’s hilarious how much he really wants to carry everything when we’re together.
“Fine,” he grouses, making me smile.
While we’re walking back to campus, he makes a low humming sound in his throat. “What ever am I do to with my empty hands while you’re carrying the bags?” he questions. “Guess I’ll have to find something else to hold onto …”
I yelp as his big, strong hand cups one of my ass cheeks.
Electricity fires from the point of contact, snaking through me and instantly turning my nipples into taut nubs. Warmth beats in my chest, but I still nudge him with my elbow in response.
“Rhys, someone could see,” I whisper admonishingly.
As a star Black Bear, Rhys is one of the most recognized people on campus, with eyes pointing at him wherever he goes. The last thing either of us needs is for news of him feeling me up to make it back to Lane. This campus can get gossipy as anything when it comes to the hockey players.
I hear a tiny sigh of disappointment as he retracts his hand, and I immediately miss the feeling of it against me.
But when we get back into the elevator and Rhys presses the button for the fourth floor, and the doors close with only the two of us inside, his hands immediately reach for my hips. He spins me toward him, eating up the distance between us so his hard, firm torso is pressed into me.
“No one can see us now,” he drawls, and I sink into him as he dips his lips onto mine.
It’s the shortest elevator ride I’ve ever experienced; and when we reach our destination and he steps back, it’s suddenly a lot easier to believe the tiny voice in my head that whispers to me that we might be more than friends now.