Settling the Score (The Summer Games #1) - R.S. Grey Page 0,92

taken up residence on my floor and pulled open one of the cartons. Salty, spicy goodness wafted around my room and I knew there was no way I’d be asking her to leave. I was starving. I hadn’t had lunch yet and I was avoiding the food court at all costs. I’d planned on begging food from Kinsley or Becca, but this was much more convenient.

“How’d you get in my condo?” I asked as I took a seat across from her on the floor.

She was already sitting cross-legged and tearing into one of the cartons with chopsticks. She had noodles sticking out of her mouth when she titled her head toward the living room.

“Through the door,” she said in a tone devoid of sarcasm.

I made a mental note to berate my roommates for leaving the doors unlocked.

“Here, eat up,” she said, passing me one of the takeout cartons. “It looks like chicken fried rice, but I can’t be sure. Anyway, are you…all right?”

I shrugged.

“Freddie told me Caroline gave that photo to the press. That’s part of why I’m here; he wants to make sure you’re doing okay.”

I kept my gaze on my rice. Georgie had called Caroline all sorts of names when I’d first met her, but I had no clue if she was genuinely friends with her or not. I called Kinsley and Becca names all the time, but they were the closest thing I had to sisters; maybe that was how she felt about Caroline.

“Just so you know,” she continued after I didn’t offer up a response. “Excluding the fact that it’s my brother, I thought that photo was very sexy. Everyone on the internet is obsessed with you now.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Obsessed with their hatred of me.”

She laughed. “Some of them, but when you start to dig into the blogs and hashtags, you’ll find that there’s a quiet contingent that’s quite besotted with you.”

I shook my head. “Well, no more photo talk, seriously.”

It’d only been one day since the story broke and I still didn’t have a real grip on my emotions. I’d crashed early the night before and slept in as late as I could. Having a solid eight hours seemed to help, but my eyes were still puffy and the story still wasn’t anywhere close to being my favorite topic of conversation.

“Freddie mentioned that Sports Illustrated party is tonight. Do you have to go?”

I frowned. “Sadly.”

She nodded. “Caroline is going too. She told me about it at breakfast.”

I paused with my chopsticks midway to my mouth. “You had breakfast with her?”

“Yes.” She laughed. “Have you forgotten that she was commissioned by my mother to be my chaperone while I’m here? We’re staying in one big suite at the hotel and everything.”

My eyes widened. “Lock your door at night.”

The jab slipped out before I could stop it, but when I glanced up to Georgie, she didn’t look offended. She was smiling.

“Don’t worry, I have been. I always knew Caroline was a bore, and the fact that she’s bonkers isn’t that surprising. It actually came as somewhat of a relief to know that there is something going on in that alarmingly sized skull of hers, even if it is just plotting and scheming.”

“You two weren’t friends in London?”

Georgie’s eyes nearly fell out of her skull. “I’d rather cut my right arm off than loll around with Caroline. Her idea of a fun Friday night is reorganizing her closet and then sipping on a bit of bubbly while she watches her laundry spin.”

I laughed. God, it felt good to laugh again, especially when my new archenemy was the butt of the joke.

“I’m actually sort of glad we’re sharing the suite though because now I can keep better watch over her.”

I nodded. “Good point.”

“For instance, I know she’ll be wearing a killer dress to the event tonight.”

My glaze flitted over to the two dresses hanging up on my closet door. Sometime during practice, a designer had dropped off dresses for Kinsley, Becca, and me to wear to the party later. It was a glamorous affair, and something I had been looking forward to before C-Day 2K16. (i.e. the day Caroline released the story to the press. Also, to be clear, the C stands for Caroline, not for the other “c” word, though it would be fitting in this instance…)

“Are those your options?” Georgie asked, pointing to the garment bags. I nodded. One was a white dress with simple beading and an A-line fit. The other was black and