Settling the Score (The Summer Games #1) - R.S. Grey Page 0,47
really ought to burn that thing.”
“I think Andie liked it. She stared at me when she first saw me in the lobby downstairs.”
She laughed. “Yes, Fred. She was probably concerned that you’d lost your mind wearing a thing like that.”
A fist pounded against my door before I could reply.
“Freddie open up,” Thom shouted. “I’ve prepared a lovely breakfast for you, including all the crispy bacon, so stop being a mope and get out here.”
I shoved off the bed and opened the door for Thom.
“I’m talking to Georgie, not moping.”
“He’s moping!” Georgie yelled through the phone loud enough for Thom to hear.
“’Ello Georgie,” Thom said, trying to take the phone from my hand. “Goodbye Georgie.”
“Not yet, mate.” I stepped back out of his reach. “She’s advising me.”
“When’s she coming to Rio?” he asked, ignoring me.
“Next week!” Georgia yelled back.
I worked the door out of his hand and tried to shut it.
“And she’s not hanging out with you,” I said just before shutting the door in his face.
“Fine, I’ll leave, but I’m eating ALL THE CRISPY BACON.”
“You really ought to be nicer to him,” Georgie said once I’d shut the door and turned back to find a clean pair of workout shorts. “He’s the only one who can stand you during competition, and it wouldn’t do you any favors if you scared him off.”
“I have loads of friends.”
“Your eighteen-year-old sis doesn’t count.”
I laughed and checked the time on my watch where it sat on the bedside table. I had twenty minutes before practice, which meant I needed to get a move on.
“Don’t discredit yourself, Georgie. You’re just as good as any of my mates. Nearly as hairy, too.”
“Ha ha, very funny, Fred. I’ll have you know I’ve morphed into quite a beauty since you’ve gone. Can’t walk down the street with all the drivers crashing from craning their necks.”
I laughed.
“Now piss off and DON’T mention the whole betrothal thing to Mum again. She’s going mad over here. Wait ’til I’ve arrived in Rio and we’ll get it sorted.”
I agreed and hung up, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d manage. It’d been one day since I’d nearly had my wicked way with Andie in the bathroom at the cocktail party. Keeping my distance for the remainder of the party and then again during the opening ceremonies was testing my patience in new and unusual ways. I’d already replayed every encounter we’d had in my mind and a bloke can only wank it so many times before it starts to feel shameful.
I’d nearly texted her the night before after returning from the opening ceremonies. It was late and I was missing her, wondering if she’d had a good time carrying the flag. I’d tried to find her during the Parade of Nations, but Great Britain and the United States were separated by too many countries to make it possible.
“Mate, honestly,” Thom shouted. “Come get this bacon or I’m going to chuck it out the window.”
I laughed and walked out into the living room to find Thom standing at the open window, ready to haul the bacon out onto unsuspecting pedestrians. I yanked the pan out of his hand and plated it beside the eggs he’d made as well.
“We’ve got practice in fifteen and then afternoon workout after,” he said, reading our team’s itinerary off his phone.
I shook my head. “I’ve talked it over with Coach already. I’m going to work out this evening instead.”
He glanced up. “What? Why?”
“There’s a soccer match I want to attend.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Andie
I COULDN’T SLEEP the night before our first game. I’d lain in bed worrying about my wrist and wishing the dull ache would go away on its own. I was nervous about the game. I could stop a ball like no other woman in America, but I didn’t trust my wrist. I knew that at any time, my sprain could take a turn and I’d be benched, or worse. I tried to find a sleeping position that offered some comfort, but in the end, I’d lain like a mummy staring up at the ceiling, willing sleep to take me.
When the alarm beside my bed blared three annoying chimes at 6:30 AM, I threw off my blankets with a plan. I’d take three Advil and have the trainer compress my wrist even tighter than usual. It needed to be secure if I was expected to stop balls hurtling toward me at 60 mph. I didn’t care about the pain¸ but I wanted my mind clear and focused.