Settling the Score (The Summer Games #1)(24)
“Did you need something? Or…”
“Well I actually have a light day today. No interviews or anything.”
My throat tightened. I couldn’t have this conversation in front of everyone. I reached forward and tugged his hand to pull him out of the practice facility after me. The sun hit my skin and I inhaled a breath of fresh air, happy to be free from the prying eyes.
I let go of his hand as soon as I realized I still had hold of it. “Sorry, everyone was listening to us and I couldn’t take it.”
He nodded. “I came to see if you wanted to have lunch with me. You haven’t eaten yet have you?”
He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t show up at my practice and invite me to lunch. He couldn’t look like that and smell that good and be that nice without expecting me to fall. I really didn’t want to fall.
I shook my head. “Actually, I’m going to the gym.”
I thought that would end it, case closed, but he smiled wider.
“Brilliant. I’ll bring the protein bars.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Freddie
OUT OF THE two of us, my brother Henry was always the one fit to take over as the heir to our family’s estate. He was born first and meant for the role, but even still, it was never a duty he tried to shirk. He enjoyed the old traditions: the stuffy etiquette rules that bored me, the hunts that lasted four hours too long, and the dinner parties that, to me, always seemed like a chore.
As soon as I was old enough, I moved from our estate and rented a flat in central London. By the time I competed in my first Olympic games, the fate of our family had long been decided: Henry would follow in my father’s footsteps, take over the family business, and later, accept my father’s title.
There was peace in the few years following my father’s passing. Henry ran the Farlington estate as he saw fit and I was free to swim. It was out of respect that Henry and I never discussed his duties. I pitied him for being shackled to our family’s title while I traveled the world doing as I pleased.
When Henry’s heart failed suddenly, it was during a time in my life when I felt untouchable. I’d just finished up at the London Games and I had more medals to my name than most Olympians could ever dream of. I was dating and going out and enjoying my life in London when I got the call that he was in the hospital.
The realizations about Henry’s sudden death came in waves. First, came grief: I had lost my oldest friend, my nearest idol, and the shield that held the weight of familial responsibility at bay. But it wasn’t until I stood at the wake, shaking hands with stuffy old friends of my father that I fully understood: my father’s legacy and my brother’s dream were now my reality. The mantle, meant to be worn and passed proudly, had become my own funeral shroud.
My mother, grieving both a husband and son in the span of a few years, couldn’t be refused. For all I had lost, she had lost more. This gave her immunity to any protests as she strove to preserve normalcy for our family. I wanted nothing to do with that old world, but I couldn’t step aside and let things go to ruin. My mum wanted so much from me and I wanted nothing but freedom. I became a duke, but I wouldn’t move home, nor quit swimming. I would not soon become the caretaker for the estate, and I wouldn’t take over my father’s business. That was when she’d countered with Caroline. After everything I’d already turned down, she slid Caroline onto the table as if a betrothal was a compromise. In her words, it was ‘my contribution to the institution to which I owed everything.’
I DROPPED MY weights onto the rack near the back mirrors and glanced up just in time to watch Andie step onto the mat behind me. I pulled my earbuds out and smiled. “I figured you wouldn’t come.”
She and I had agreed on a time to meet up at the gym after her practice, but that’d been an hour earlier. I’d started my workout, lost myself in thoughts of Henry and my family, and slotted Andie as a no-show. Yet, there she was, dropping her water bottle beside mine and twisting her hair up into a messy ponytail.
She shrugged. “Truthfully, I thought it’d be a better idea if I came after you were already finished, but I guess you’re more persistent than I thought you’d be.”
I didn’t ask why she wanted to come after I was done; we both knew the answer.
“I’d like to work out with you. It’s more fun with a partner,” I said.
She propped her hands up on her hips and tilted her head. “Don’t you usually work out with Thom?”
I nodded. “Sometimes.”
“But not today?” she asked, her eyes scanning the gym around me.
I smiled. “No. Sometimes you need someone with real muscle spotting you.”
She shook her head and walked past me toward the weight rack, doing a poor job of concealing her smile in the mirror. She reached for a set of weights and took up residence on the mat a few feet away—far enough that I knew she wanted some space. It was no use though. The moment she’d arrived, other athletes scooted closer, pulled their weights to the edge of the mats, and lingered nearby her until she’d glance up and flash a smile or a nod. She had a gravitational pull about her and it was hard to keep my distance, especially since these fleeting moments were all we had.
I was in the middle of a set of dead lifts, breathing heavy and trying to focus on my posture, when I caught sight of her out of the corner of my eye. She was at the corner of the mat watching me, and when I dropped the weights and took a deep breath, she stepped closer.