Settling the Score (The Summer Games #1) - R.S. Grey Page 0,6

my act really soon.”

The face laughed and I focused on the lips that had been moving and now stretched across a seriously cute face. If Satan was this handsome, I’d probably be able to handle the eternal damnation business.

“All right, I’m going to lift you up. Just give a shout if something hurts,” said the devil with a very cute British accent.

Hands wrapped around my shoulders and lifted me up to a sitting position. I could breathe again, and I didn’t feel any pain. I patted my elbows and my head. I surmised that I’d managed to fall very gracefully, like the princess I’d imagined earlier.

“All right?” the British voice asked again, coming around to face me.

The bobbing head was connected to a very, very handsome body. I took my time scanning over him until I reached his face and realized all at once that I recognized the devil.

“You’re Frederick Archibald,” I said with a small, shocked voice.

“I prefer Freddie—”

A slow-spreading smirk took hold of my heart just as Gareth rushed forward.

“Lassie!” Gareth boomed. “I’m sorry, but you’re too slippereh!”

The rugby team was all there surrounding me, probably awaiting my cue to send me off for a proper Viking funeral. I waved him away and pushed to stand. “I’m fine, really.” My wrist hurt, but that wasn’t from the fall. “I swear.”

There was another five minutes of them picking up my arms and turning me around to confirm I didn’t have a bone sticking out or something.

“I think she’s fine,” Freddie said, hovering just behind the rugby guys.

I stared up and smiled, finally getting my first real look at him. Either he was stealing my breath, or I’d lied about being okay earlier. Had I punctured a lung? Dislodged my heart?

The rugby team agreed that I was stouter than I looked, or that I looked like I needed another stout. Either way, they departed and I was left standing a few feet from Freddie, trying to work up something witty to say. He was wearing blue jeans and a red t-shirt. I couldn’t tell what color his boxers were, but if I swapped my pants for his, I’d be one step closer to completing my Rubik’s cube.

“Feeling better?” he asked, taking a step toward me.

I smiled. “Yes, but I need you to take your pants off.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Freddie

“YOU NEED MY trousers?” I asked, confirming that she had in fact said what I thought she’d said.

This girl was cute—more than cute, really. Her blue tank top rode up an inch or so on her trim torso, and one look at her long legs proved she played a sport in which she ran—loads. Her bluish gray eyes were hard to ignore, even with the lopsided yellow cap covering half of them.

She looked like that type of American girl blokes dream about: pale blonde hair and sun-kissed skin, as if she’d just walked off the beach. I told myself this was the reason why I wasn’t leaving her alone. She’d had an entire team of titans more than ready to keep her occupied for the night, and yet my curiosity had gotten the better of me.

She pointed to her red shorts and I caught another glimpse of her long legs. “Yes, we have to swap so that I can have blue pants and a blue top. It’s for the game. We have to leave the party wearing one color, and I guess my color is blue.”

I had no clue what she was going on about, but there was no way we were swapping trousers. Her shorts would hardly fit around my ankle.

“C’mon, you have to play,” she said, jutting out her bottom lip. Something told me she got away with murder having a pair of lips like that.

“I can’t give you these,” I said, “but my boxers are blue.”

Freddie, you dim perv. She doesn’t want your boxers.

Her brows rose in shock, but it didn’t last. The surprise faded into a smile and she reached out for my hand. “C’mon, we can change in here.”

I’d braced for a slap for even suggesting the idea, but maybe American girls were different. She led me past the drink table and we turned a corner down a long hallway. The party was less crowded back there, and every person we passed took one look at us, her hand in mine, and assumed the worst. The lads clapped me on the shoulder and the girls flashed jealous stares.

“Wait, I don’t even know your name,” I said as she knocked