Settling the Score (The Summer Games #1) - R.S. Grey Page 0,23

me, a slow smile spread across her face.

“Freddie,” my mom continued. “I know you’ve a lot to think about right now, but just know that I’m arranging everything in your best—”

“Mum I’ve got to go.”

I hung up before she could respond and stood to greet Andie.

“Before you say anything,” she said, “I came straight from practice.” She pointed to the mess of hair atop her head. The usually light strands were damp with sweat and her cheeks were still flush from her workout. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and I swept my gaze over her features quickly, trying to commit the pink shade of her bare lips to memory without her noticing.

“I hope you’ve worn a bathing suit under that thing,” I said, gesturing to her track pants.

She smirked, glanced over her shoulder to the empty natatorium, and then reached for the zipper of her jacket. I averted my gaze as she undressed, though I didn’t know why. Force of habit, perhaps.

She cleared her throat and I glanced back toward her, laughter spilling out before I could stop myself.

“What in the world have you got on?”

She was wearing a tight blue spandex top that covered her arms down to her wrists and zipped up the center of her chest until it ended at the base of her neck. It looked like what surfers wore during competitions, and the bottom was even worse: baggy red board shorts that cinched above her waist and fell below her knees, turning her figure into an amorphous blob.

“What is that?”

She smiled. “A swim shirt. I found it in the gift shop on the way over. And the trunks are to dispel any assumptions of…impropriety, should we have any spectators.”

“Right well, the place is deserted,” I said, waving to the empty natatorium. “Besides, you can’t possibly wear those trunks to swim. They’ll pull you down like an anchor.”

“No. They’re light.” She proceeded to hop up and down to prove her point. “Look. See how high I can jump?”

My smile spread wider as I shook my head. “Please tell me you’ve got a normal swimsuit on under there.”

She leveled me with an annoyed gaze. “Fine.”

With a sigh, she tugged the slip-knotted drawstring and the baggy shorts fell to the ground, revealing light blue bikini bottoms. Thin strings tied on either side of her slim, tan hips, and I took in the sight with a heavy inhale. The tight swim top stopped just below her belly button, revealing the last few inches of her tiny waist. She had an athlete’s body, lithe and strong, but there was no denying she was all woman. She’d put on the swim shirt to hide herself, but instead it served to accentuate the outline of her breasts, full and tempting. She was bloody gorgeous and I needed to get in the cold water straightaway.

“Maybe I should have had you keep the trousers on,” I said, standing up and tossing my towel to the side.

The sooner we hopped into the pool, the better.

She laughed. “This was your doing, remember? You made the bet.”

Her words reminded me that in travelling down this road, I was betting on much more than poker.

Andie

TRYING TO SLYLY check out Freddie in his swim shorts should have been an Olympic sport in itself. The moment he stood up and shed his towel, I turned my head but simultaneously developed one lazy eye, which pointed at Freddie regardless of which way I looked.

When he stretched by the edge of the pool, I lost motor function and suddenly couldn’t remember how normal people stood. Do they hold their weight on both legs or just sort of casually lean on one? Crossed arms? No that looks angry. Wait, what are arms for again? I let the now meaningless limbs fall limply to my sides and pretended to listen to Freddie as he went on about proper freestyle form. I didn’t care about swimming form, I cared about his form. He had the most powerfully fluid body I’d ever seen, like a modern day gladiator. Every square inch of him was made up of layers of tight, coiled muscle. Thick biceps gave way to broad shoulders. His defined upper back and strong shoulder blades tapered to a slimmer waist, but my gaze had to stop there. He was wearing those tight spandex shorts Olympic swimmers wear. The navy material sat low on his hips, slicing his Adonis Vs in half when he twisted around to make sure I was paying attention. To maintain

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