on one of the doors at the end of the hallway.
She turned and smiled at me over her shoulder. “Andie.”
I knew that name. “Andie Foster?”
“How’d you know?”
“You and the other football girls are the talk of the games.”
She arched a brow and nodded, not bothering with a response.
The room she pulled me into was an unoccupied bedroom. It had the same furniture as all the other rooms in the Olympic Village: standard queen bed, chair, and dresser. There wasn’t a suitcase or bag in sight.
“Looks like we’ll be safe in here,” she said, turning to face me. “But you’ll have to turn while I change.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but she was already working on the waistband of her shorts. I turned and stared at the opposite wall, trying to talk down the excitement in my pants. I could hear her pushing down her shorts. I pictured them sliding down her tan legs and I shoved my hands into my pockets and pinched my eyes closed. I had as much willpower as any bloke, but this was pushing it.
“Hey, I don’t hear you taking your boxers off over there,” she said with a laugh.
Oh, right.
I unbuttoned my trousers, pushing them down to the ground.
“Rest assured, I put these boxers on right before the party,” I said with a smile.
“I don’t care,” she said. “Here.”
I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and then something landed on my shoulder…a red, silky something.
“Jesus.” I groaned under my breath. She’d tossed her panties at me, a red, lacy pair that felt like heaven in my palm.
That’s it. I’m moving to America after the games. It’s such a beautiful, beautiful country.
“Ahem!” She cleared her throat. “I need those boxers. My butt cheeks are cold!”
I’d survived more high-pressure situations than most blokes have by the age of twenty-seven. I’d competed in two Olympic games and swam in hundreds of races at the international level. None of those situations were half as difficult as facing away from Andie in that moment. I knew she was standing behind me. Her bare skin was right there, all I had to do was turn around; she probably wouldn’t have even noticed.
“Freddie!”
Bloody hell.
I pulled my boxers off, ignoring the slight tenting situation occurring in the front. I walked backward, trying to hand them off to her like a gentleman. It seemed like a good idea right up until my hand brushed against her bare ass.
“HEY! Hands off the tush,” she said, yanking the boxers out of my hand.
“Ah, sorry,” I said with a cheeky smile. “My mum told me never to throw my knickers at a girl.”
She laughed, though I was more focused on trying to push aside the memory of how soft her skin had felt. I pulled my jeans back up and buttoned them.
“All right, they’re a little big, but it’ll work.”
I turned to find her rolling up my boxers so they wouldn’t fall down her hips. They were rather large on her, but by the second roll they seemed secure enough.
“How do I look?” she said, adjusting the hat over her hair.
Un-fucking-believable.
“ANDIE!”
Bang. Bang. Bang.
“ANDIE FOSTER! We’re coming in!”
Fists pounded on the bedroom door right before it crashed open. Two girls jumped forward, one with pepper spray and the other with a bottle of beer poised to strike.
“We’re too late!” The brunette one had zeroed in on Andie’s knickers still clutched in my hand. “HE ALREADY HAS HER PANTIES!”
CHAPTER FIVE
Andie
I WOKE UP to Kinsley and Becca standing over my bed, doing their best impersonation of FBI agents. Their arms were crossed and their glares would have sliced me in half had I not been burrowed safely beneath my covers.
“What do you two want?” I asked, clutching a spare pillow beneath my chin.
“Sleep well, Andie?” Kinsley asked with an arched brow.
Apparently they had practiced the good cop, bad cop routine.
“Or was it pretty…drafty down there?” Becca asked, yanking the covers back to expose my blue tank top and matching pair of boxers—the pair Freddie had given me. They were loose around my hips, but I liked the feel of them and, SUE ME, I didn’t see the point of taking them off before going to bed.
“Planning on wearing those things to practice as well?” Kinsley asked, eyeing the boxers like they were contagious.
A quick glance at the bedside clock revealed I’d slept right through breakfast. I felt like total shit, but I wouldn’t let them know that. They wanted me to suffer after what I’d put