Out of Bounds (The Summer Games #2)(67)
Molly perked up. “Oh really? What was she like as a girlfriend?”
I opened my mouth to correct her—I was never his girlfriend—but he spoke up first.
“Brie was…hard to nail down,” he said, eyeing me with mischief. “She had a way of always making me want more.”
Oh really? Because I remembered all but forcing him to try phone sex with me and him always seeming to redirect the conversation to his new protein powder.
“But now you’re both in Rio,” Lexi said, pushing me toward him. “So she should be easier to nail.”
“Nail down,” corrected Molly.
Lexi shrugged. “Whatever.”
I resisted an eye roll. “All right. I think he gets it.”
He laughed. “Come dance with me, just for a second, and then I’ll give you back to your friends.”
I peered over his shoulder at the small dance floor. There were a few couples lingering there, no one taking it too seriously. I figured the moment we hit the floor, cameras would swoop in; the media was always looking to shoehorn romance into their normally sterile sports pieces. Despite that, my previous experience with Noah told me it probably wouldn’t be an issue, so I let him take my hand and lead me over to the dance floor.
“I meant what I said.” He bent low to whisper against my skin, “You look so good, Brie.”
Noah seemed to have grown up; maybe now he wouldn’t be so clueless. I smiled and turned to glance over his shoulder as he wrapped his hands around my waist. There was a guitarist sitting a few feet away on stage, strumming a seductive tune that made slow dancing easy. I let the music wrap around me as I interlaced my fingers behind Noah’s neck.
“So how have you been since I last saw you?”
He shrugged. “Been training hard. You know how it goes.”
I nodded. “I’ve watched a few of your competitions.”
“That makes two of us,” he said, brushing a few strands of hair over my shoulder.
He led me across the dance floor, turning me gently so I could glide along with him. I tried to think of something to say, fully aware of the lull in conversation, but then I spotted Erik a few yards away. He was standing in a group of coaches, smiling at a woman as she spoke. He looked like the devil personified, dark and alluring. His black hair was styled in a way that made his sharp features even more unbearable. He was clean-shaven and impeccably dressed.
The sight of him completely stole my attention from Noah. He asked me questions as we danced and I mumbled replies, but my attention was on Erik—only Erik. He was wearing a fitted navy suit with a crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His espresso brown watch matched his belt and shoes. Until that moment, I hadn’t once considered Erik’s wealth. He kept it carefully hidden. He drove that beat-up truck and lived in his small cabin, but I knew hundreds—if not thousands—of gymnasts were shilling out big bucks to train with him at Seattle Flyers.
He wore that suit like a second skin, comfortable and confident in the designer material. The entire ensemble was tailored; I knew because I’d never once seen someone reach for clothing off a rack that looked that good.
The guitarist slipped into another song and Noah asked me if I wanted to keep dancing. I nodded and spun around, trying to stay facing Erik. I watched him, wanting him to turn from the woman he was chatting with and lock eyes with me. I needed his gaze on my body, his attention on me, even just for a second.
Another coach walked up to chat with him and I sighed, fully aware that he was too busy to notice the fact that I was in the same room as him.
“Are you okay?” Noah asked, drawing back to stare at me.
I shook my head and pulled my attention from Erik. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”
“I just asked if you were nervous about qualifications,” he said with a light, airy laugh.
When? I hadn’t heard a thing.
“Um, a little bit, I guess,” I said, confused why he wanted to talk about gymnastics of all things.
His hands tightened on my waist and I glanced over his shoulder again, helplessly drawn to Erik. He had a commanding presence and whether he was aware of it or not, every single woman in that room felt it. They circled around him, lingering and hoping he’d deem them worthy of a second glance or a smile. He wrapped his hand around a woman’s elbow to pull her out of the way of a passing waiter, and I saw the shudder that ran down her spine. She liked the way it felt to be touched by him. He dropped his hand once the waiter had passed, but she didn’t pull away. She turned to him, flushed and glowing.
He could f*ck her if he wanted to and the mere thought made my stomach turn. I wanted to march over there and lay some kind of claim to him; I wanted to scratch my hands down his chest and scar him so every woman that came after me would know he was mine.
When he finally turned to scan the room, I waited for him to find me.
I’m right here.
Finally, his blue eyes locked with mine and he paused, raking his gaze down my body, greedily inhaling the dress I’d worn for him. I reached up to finger my thin strap and ensure I wasn’t spilling out of the top as much as it felt like I was, but his gaze was already on my legs, snagging on the heels before he turned away with a devious smile. He tried to cover it with a sip of his drink, but it still heated my skin from across the room.
There was a clear line down the middle of the mixer: athletes on one side, coaches on the other. When I finished dancing with Noah, I told him I was going to go find something to drink. Instead of walking to the bar near my teammates, I crossed over the invisible line and headed straight to the bar behind Erik.