Settling the Score (The Summer Games #1) - R.S. Grey Page 0,78

wished I could play a sport like that. You must be so talented.”

Freddie smiled on the other side of her, watching her praise me. He had assured me Caroline knew nothing about our relationship, but I still would have given anything to disappear. The waiter handed back my water and I set it down beside my plate.

I glanced up to find Sophie Boyle watching me with a small self-serving smile from across the table. She had a tape recorder set out right beside her plate and the small blinking red light served as a reminder that anything I said, she could quote in an article. That was the whole point of the media dinner.

“Soccer isn’t so hard,” I said, swallowing past the frog in my throat. “I just started playing at a young age and it seemed natural, even back then.”

“She’s being modest,” Freddie insisted.

“Well it obviously keeps you in great shape,” Caroline said. I kept my gaze forward but I could feel her eyes on me.

“Thank you.”

“You must run ten miles a day to have a body like that.”

I forced a laugh and reached for my water glass. Why was the attention on me? There were eight people at the table, six other athletes worth talking about, and yet everyone was happy to listen to Caroline.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to put you on the spot,” she continued with an apologetic smile. “I’ve just been watching your games and I was so excited to meet you. Now I’m making a fool of myself.”

I glanced over to see a slight blush dotting her cheeks. Was she really as nervous as I was? I reached out to touch her arm and smiled genuinely for the first time since she’d arrived. “It’s fine. That’s really cool that you’ve been watching the games.”

Her features perked up again. “Do you think you’ll be able to play tomorrow?”

I shook my head. “Not tomorrow, no. I won’t be ready.”

She nodded, but kept quiet.

Kinsley leaned forward. “Freddie, you race tomorrow, don’t you?”

After that, the conversation turned to Freddie and his first day of racing. For a week straight he’d have to compete in multiple races per day. He’d take the pool fifteen times before he was finished and though he seemed confident sitting at that table with his fitted suit and his wide smile, I knew the pressure had to be getting to him, even just a tiny bit. I’d played in thousands of games over the years, but these big events never got easier. The world was anxious to watch him compete, and the other swimmers naturally put a target on his back. It wasn’t every day that an Olympian came back for his third games poised to break the records he’d set four years earlier, and yet when I glanced over, there was no hint of anxiety behind his eyes. He winked and I melted, dropping my face so that Sophie Boyle wouldn’t notice my secret smile.

Caroline leaned closer. “Would you mind coming with me to get a drink? Between the two of us, we ought to be able to fight our way to the bar.”

I smiled. “Of course. I actually need to use the restroom too.”

I dropped my napkin on the table and nodded to Kinsley. “I’ll be right back. Bathroom.”

Caroline linked her arm through mine and led me away from the table. We wove through the crowd, trying to stay out of the way of the waitstaff flitting around the room. There was a bathroom tucked away in the corner next to the bar, and I tilted my head toward it.

“Bathroom first?”

She smiled. “Sounds good.”

I pushed through the door and Caroline stepped in after me. I slipped into the first stall and listened to her heels clap against the tile as she moved around the small space. She pushed open the other three stall doors, as if to decide which one was most suitable for her use. I smiled at the idea just before I heard her walk back toward the bathroom door. I listened to the distinct metallic clink of a lock sliding into place, and the smile dissolved from my face. Silence filled the small fluorescent space as my blood turned to ice.

I stood and flushed, trying to stay as calm as possible. Surely it was just another quirk of aristocracy, to reserve a public restroom for the duration of her private use. My heart pounded against my chest, as if sensing before my brain that something was seriously wrong. I