Settling the Score (The Summer Games #1)(54)

“Congratulations are in order, sir,” the limo driver said, winking at Freddie. “Your fiancée told me during the drive over.” His voice was slightly distorted through the glass, but I could hear him loud and clear. He scanned from Caroline to Freddie. “Have you two decided on a wedding date yet?”

Caroline clapped excitedly. “Early winter hopefully! As soon as Frederick has time to devote to the wedding, we’ll get to planning.”

She turned to him with stars in her eyes and I slowly processed how careful and specific her answer had been, as if they’d gone over it a thousand times before. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me.

Early winter.

Wedding.

And worse yet, Freddie didn’t deny it. He tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. I couldn’t see his face, but I could imagine that perfect smile stretched across his perfect mouth. His mouth. The mouth he’d used on me the night before. It’d been on my neck and my chest and my stomach and my…

I couldn’t breathe.

My breaths were coming short and shaky and I pressed my hand to my chest as images flooded my mind. He’d carried me into his room knowing full well that his betrothed—no, his fiancée—was due to arrive the very next morning. He’d dropped me onto his bed and tangled me up in his sheets—the same sheets he planned on using with her. Had he even bothered to wash them?

I missed the last half of their conversation, but I watched the driver tip his hat and turn, adding a few parting words over his shoulder. “Welcome to the games!”

“I’m going to be sick.”

I turned and ran for the nearest bathroom—there was one tucked away in a corner of the lobby—and I shoved past an open stall door. I was barely hunched over the toilet when my stomach turned over. I kneeled there, dry heaving and wiping away the tears that insisted on streaming down my cheeks. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t understand how quickly my life had gone to shit.

My wrist burned from the pressure of holding myself up over the toilet, but I didn’t ease off it. I let the pain sear through me.

“Andie, are you okay?”

Kinsley was there, rubbing my back and trying to console me.

I couldn’t form words. The dry heaves wouldn’t stop.

My Olympic dreams were over…

And Freddie was a f*cking liar.

Welcome to the games, indeed.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN


Freddie




I RAKED MY hands through my hair and tried to get ahold of the situation as best as I could. Georgie and Caroline were in Rio. They were in Rio, together. In my flat. I paced back and forth in Thom’s room, trying to figure out what to do.

“This is a bloody mess,” I said, keeping my voice down so it wouldn’t travel across the flat. Caroline was in my room, returning the phone calls she’d missed during the flight. Fortunately, it gave me a few minutes alone with Georgie.

My sister leveled me with a narrowed stare. “Obviously, you twat! Why do you think I’ve been trying so hard to get ahold of you over the past two days!”

“I told Mum the betrothal was over!”

“Yes, and like always, Mum has ignored you and sent Caroline anyway. This is precisely how she used to get what she wanted with Dad—sheer stubbornness. She thinks you’ll see Caroline and be overcome with unbridled love for her.”

I wiped my hand down my face. “I did nearly pass out when I saw her get out of that limo before you.”

Georgie laughed. “Maybe that’s what unbridled love feels like?”

I groaned. “I assure you, it’s not.”

“Well what do you want me to do?”

“Keep her occupied. I need to talk to Andie and warn her that Caroline is here.”

Her smile fell. “I saw a story about her injury while we were in the limo. Do you think it's serious?”

I wouldn’t know. I’d watched the game on the TV during my workout. I’d stood immobile as they replayed her bad landing over and over again in slow motion. Her pain was written across her face as they walked her off the field with her friends in tow, looking more dejected than the losing team. I’d cut my workout off early and tried to reach her.

“Freddie? Have you heard from her? What’s going to happen?”

“I don't know, Georgie. I haven't managed to reach her all day. She's been ignoring my texts.”

Georgie laughed. “Probably because you’re a miserable sod. Maybe you ought to keep Caroline around. She could be all you’ve got.”

“You aren’t helping.”

She threw her hands up. “Fine. I’ll go distract Caroline, but you owe me big time. I’ve already been on a flight with the turtle for a million hours. I had to occupy myself with one of her corny inspirational books the entire way. It was my own personal purgatory.”

Caroline was still in my room with the door closed, so hopefully she couldn’t hear Georgie.

“Wait, did you say ‘turtle’?”

She smiled, proud of herself. “She’s got the personality of a sea turtle so I’ve taken to addressing her as such.”

“Georgie,” I scolded.

“What? The book she lent me was called Becoming Boring: Volume III. She’s clearly already memorized the first two.”