Settling the Score (The Summer Games #1) - R.S. Grey Page 0,49
reach out to him. He’d gone out of his way to come to my first game, and even though I’d told him to stay away, it meant a lot knowing I’d had someone there rooting for me. That’s why I swiped my finger across the screen to answer his call, or so I told myself.
“Andie,” he said, as if surprised I’d answered.
“Hi.”
“Have I caught you at a bad time?”
My eyes flitted around the room. “I just stepped out of the shower.”
“Andie.”
My cheeks flamed. Stupid. “Um…that wasn’t supposed to sound as porny as it did, it’s just the truth.”
“Have you still got your towel on?”
“Freddie…”
“I’m just curious.” I could tell he was smiling.
“I’m getting my clothes on right now.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
I inhaled a shaky breath. “Freddie. Why did you call?”
He sighed. “I want to know how the last few minutes of the game went. I had to leave to make it to my evening workout.”
“We won.”
“Good.”
“Did your workout go well?”
He chuckled. “Brilliantly. Could’ve used a spotter.”
“Right, well…” I said, eyeing myself in the mirror. My long hair fell down my back, in desperate need of a good brushing. My full lips were parted and my eyes were wide and curious. “I need to go now.”
“You’re lying. I can tell.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not lying. I need to ice my wrist and put clothes on and generally ignore you.”
“Stop saying you need to put clothes on.”
“Well I do.”
He sighed.
“Why’d you really call, Freddie?”
“I already told you.”
I tightened my towel around my chest. “You could have watched the highlights on the news.”
“Maybe I wanted to hear your voice then.”
I avoided my reflection in my mirror.
He sounded so sincere. I hated that he sounded sincere; it only made the fight harder.
“I told you to stay away from me.”
“I remember.”
Silence.
“My brain can’t keep up with you, Freddie,” I said, turning away from the mirror. “You push me away one minute and then you show up at my game as if everything is okay and it’s not.”
“I know.”
“This whole thing is too confusing for me to handle right now. I’m in the middle of the Olympics for God’s sake—”
“I’m not going to stay away from you, Andie.”
The way he said my name sent a subtle shiver down my spine. His voice came across differently on the phone, a little more seductive and demanding.
“I need to hang up now.”
“Lie down on your bed.”
My stomach flipped.
Silence.
“Did you hear me? I want you to lie down on your bed.”
“It hurt when you pushed me out of that bathroom, Freddie.”
“I know, and I want to make it up to you,” he continued, undeterred. “Lie down on your bed.”
I stepped into my room and eyed my tangled sheets. I wasn’t going to lay down, I knew that. So then why am I stepping closer?
“Are you still wet from the shower?”
I sat down on the edge of my bed, hardly on it at all, really.
“Answer me.”
“My hair is.”
“Is your body wet?”
I swallowed. “Ye…Yes.”
“Run your fingers up your thigh, feel how soft your skin is there.”
“Freddie—”
“Yes?”
“I think we should stop.”
“Hang up if you want to, Andie.”
Silence. I stared up at the ceiling and clutched the phone.
He knew I wasn’t going to hang up.
“Are you touching yourself?” I asked with a soft voice, eyeing my closed bedroom door.
“Do you want me to be?” His voice was strained.
“I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”
“You’ve never touched yourself?”
I smiled. “I’ve never had phone sex.”
“Where’s your hand right now?”
I glanced down. “Gripping the bottom of my towel.”
“Let go and drag your fingers up the inside of your leg until I tell you to stop.”
“Freddie…”
“Don’t overthink it,” he begged. “Let go.”
I squeezed my eyes closed and moved my hand to my leg, just above my knee. It was a harmless spot. A nothing spot.
“Higher,” he whispered into my ear. It sounded like he was right there, controlling my hand and dragging it higher for me. I could hear the pleasure in his voice as he told me to keep going, to let my fingers touch the groove of my hip. I squeezed my eyes tighter as a flush ran across my chest and neck. I was hot, burning up. I yanked the towel off and threw it aside, laying back on the bed, naked and alone.
“Open your legs.”
“Freddie,” I protested.
“Andie, slide your legs apart,” he demanded, a little less patient this time.
My thighs slid across the soft sheets, just a few inches at first, not so far that I couldn’t squeeze them closed if I