Settling the Score (The Summer Games #1)(104)

I smiled. “Well if you wouldn’t mind giving me his address, I think I’ll just head straight there.”





CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE


Freddie




“OPEN UP, FRED!”

I groaned at the sound of Georgie banging on my door. “Go away, G. I’m not up for company.”

She ignored me, used her key, and shoved her way into my flat like a Tasmanian devil. I kept my head tucked in the fridge—looking for something to eat—but she strolled past me and picked up an empty bag of crisps from the kitchen counter.

“Listen, you insufferable hermit,” she said, crumbling up the empty bag. “You need to tidy this place up and then maybe consider having a shower yourself.”

I picked up my shirt, sniffed it, and only recoiled a bit. “It’s not so bad,” I said, returning to my search for food. I’d already eaten dinner a few hours earlier, but food was distracting and since Andie was on my mind, a distraction was more than welcome. I shoved the vegetables aside and reached for a cheese stick.

I let the refrigerator door fall closed and then glanced over to see Georgie drop a heavy paper sack at the base of the kitchen island. It sounded like there was a bowling ball stuffed inside.

“What’ve you brought, G?”

She ignored my question and walked toward me with determination. I’d barely pulled back the cellophane wrapper on my cheese stick when she slapped it out of my hand. It fell to the ground with a sad thump.

“Hey,” I moaned. “I was going to eat that.”

“Are you listening to me?! Leave the cheese stick!” she said with fire in her eyes. “You need to shower! Now!”

I’d seen a few different versions of Georgie over the years. She was excitable and loud and opinionated and crass, but this was Georgie on a whole new level. Her bright eyes were wide and anxious, urging me to take her seriously.

When I didn’t move quick enough, she groaned and shoved past me to get a bin bag out of the broom closet. She whipped it open with a loud POP and tore through the kitchen, throwing away anything in her sight: trash, papers, an empty pizza box. She nearly tossed one of my gold medals (I hadn’t gotten around to putting them up with the others yet) but I reached out and caught it before it fell into the bag.

“Georgie, you’ve gone completely mental. Should I ring a doctor?”

She ignored my teasing and turned back for the broom closet where she’d found the bag.

“Do you have a candle or something?” she asked, pinching her nose closed with her fingers.

“What’s going on?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Just…” She glanced around, trying to think up a lie. “I think you needed to freshen up a bit.”

“I have a housekeeper who comes twice a week. Now fess up. What’s gotten into you?”

She was a terrible liar, made worse by the anxious energy she put off when she was up to something.

I pulled the bag out of her hand and let it drop to the floor. “You’re being really weird. Either tell me what’s going on or—”

A loud knock on my front door interrupted my ultimatum. Georgie’s eyes widened even more as she swept her gaze to the door.

“Oh no.” Her hands covered her mouth. “I’m too late. You’ll mess it all up with your manky apartment.”

“Mess what up, Georgie?”

She didn’t respond.

“Who’s at the door?”

She shrugged and turned back for the broom closet, rooting through my cleaning products. “Go see for yourself,” she said. “I’ve got work to do.”

I wiped my hand down my face, annoyed at the idea of company. I didn’t know what Georgie was up to, but the person at the door was knocking again, so I stepped over the bin bag to go answer it. I’d barely turned the knob when I heard Georgie spraying something in the kitchen. She’d truly gone off the deep end. I shook my head and whipped the door open.

Time stopped as Andie came into focus on my doorstep. I was gripping the door, mouth open, breath frozen, heart pounding.

I blinked, and blinked again.

It couldn’t be her. She was supposed to be half a world away, and yet she was here, standing a foot away from me and waving a small British flag back and forth in front of her chest.

I couldn’t quite wrap my head around her being here. In London. At my flat. Her luggage was tucked behind her and she was wearing a small, tentative smile. Her gray eyes were gleaming with hope and her hand was shaking around the flag. Her pale blonde hair was falling out of a messy bun and she had on jeans and a wrinkled white blouse. She should have looked weary from her flight, but she was radiant. I wanted to reach out to touch her, but I was scared she’d disappear like a mirage.

“Andie?” I asked, hearing the hope in my voice.

Question after question sprang to mind (How did you get here? When did you plan this? Where are you staying? How long will you be here?), but I settled on a simple statement. “You’re here.”

A loud crash sounded in the kitchen and her smile dropped. Her eyes scanned past me, trying to find the source of the commotion. “Is this a bad time?”

I shook my head and pulled the door open wider. “No, it’s just Georgie. Come in.”

We hadn’t touched. She’d been on my doorstep for one whole minute and I hadn’t kissed her and I wanted to kiss her.