Settling the Score (The Summer Games #1) - R.S. Grey Page 0,54
declare independence from you guys.
I laughed.
Freddie: See you then.
Andie: No you won’t.
Freddie: 7:00 PM.
I turned my mobile off and tossed it into my workout bag before she or my sister could reply. After I’d gone through my afternoon workout, I ripped my sweaty clothes off and checked the clock on my bedside table. It was already after 5:30 PM, which meant I didn’t have long to shower and get ready before Andie arrived. Her message said she wouldn’t show, but something told me she was having as hard a time staying away from me as I was from her.
I showered quickly, lathering body wash over my tired muscles before rinsing them clean. I hadn’t paid attention to the status of the flat when I’d first walked in, but I knew Thom wasn’t always a shining beacon of tidiness. I frequently found his boxers in the dishwasher, and his drinking glasses in the laundry pile. After I hopped out and pulled on a white shirt and jeans, I stood in the living room, horrified at its current condition.
“When did you get in?” Thom asked from his perch on the couch. He hadn’t been there when I’d arrived back home, but he’d managed to create a mess since then. He sat there, munching on crisps with his feet up on the coffee table. A pile of wrappers surrounded him on the floor and when I glanced over into the kitchen, the sink was full and nearly overflowing with our dishes.
“She’s nearly going to be here.”
He flipped the channel on the telly, less than concerned. “Who’s that?”
“Andie, you twit. Remember the plan?”
“Right, that. It’s only 6:00 PM.”
I ripped the remote out of his hand. “And what comes after six, you wanker?”
He tossed the bag of crisps aside. “Fine, what do you want me to do?”
I put him to work tidying up the flat, starting with the area near the couch. I washed the dishes as quickly as I could, layering them into the dishwasher in tight stacks. I wiped down the counters and took the rubbish out to the chute in the hallway. When I went back into the flat, there was a distinctive smell I couldn’t get rid of. I went round to the neighbors, begging for a candle or air freshener. A few English girls down the hall had a candle they lent me in exchange for an autograph. I lit it as soon as I returned and marveled at the ability of two grown men to spoil a brand new flat in only a few days.
“Thom, Jesus. My room doesn’t smell like this. What do you do out here when I’m gone?”
He held his hands up in innocence. “You know I have a weakness for tuna. And sardines are some of the best sources of—”
“Sod it, I’m starting to think this was a mistake.”
The place smelled like a fish market and there was no changing it. I gave up and went back to work tidying up. By the time she was due to arrive, I’d completely forgotten about dinner. My stomach growled, letting me know how much it didn’t appreciate not being fed on time.
“Mate, do me a favor: will you order something from the food court? I doubt Andie will have eaten and I’m starved.”
“Anything in particular?”
I shook my head. “No, but she’s got a match early tomorrow, so something with lots of protein.”
He went off to his room and I reached for the supplies I’d picked up in the shop on the first floor. They had a small selection of birthday decorations—for the few sad sods who had to celebrate while they were competing in the games—but hopefully it would be just enough to convince Andie not to turn around once she opened the door and discovered I’d lied.
“Oh, and mate—don’t you dare bring back fish!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Andie
“ANDIE, YOU’RE IN the way. I can’t see the movie.”
“Well maybe that comes with the territory when you decide to watch a movie in my closet. Isn’t there a better place?”
Becca rolled her eyes up at me from her spot on the ground like I was the crazy one. “We can’t very well watch it in our closet—it’s full of cute clothes that can’t get wrinkled.”
“Why do you have to watch it in a closet at all?” I demanded.
“It would be sacrilege to watch The Notebook under the glare of the harsh Rio sun,” Kinsley said while drying her tears with one of my shirts.