Settling the Score (The Summer Games #1)(92)

I slipped my hand along the hard ridges of his stomach. “You don’t feel pruney to me.”

His sharp inhale told me how much he loved my touch. His head turned and he captured my mouth in a kiss so powerful, I lost track of my breaking heart. With his lips on mine, it felt like there was only us, the two of us standing in an ocean with our bodies wrapped up and our hearts on our sleeves. I loved him in a hopeless sort of way, the type of love you feel for what could have been. I wasn’t giving up on him, or us. I was giving up on the promise of more. In six hours, we’d be worlds apart.

“I don’t even know your middle name.”

“William.”

“Or your favorite food.”

“Spaghetti.”

“Or your favorite song.”

“Anything by Jake Bugg.”

I was crying, but he was kissing away the tears and answering my questions as if it would actually help. His hand pressed against my heart, trying to calm me down, but it didn’t work. I told him I didn’t want to think about the future. I wanted to stay in that ocean forever, but I knew life wouldn’t pause for us—the setting sun was a constant reminder of that.

When the night had turned black and the only light we could see was from the moon and the cafes along the avenue, Freddie carried me out of the ocean and into a hotel across the street. We took the last room they had, a shabby beachside suite for tourists on a budget. The carpet was old and stained. The drapes were stiff and smelly. The bed was small and hard, but Freddie stripped off the old comforter. We tossed the pillows to the ground and he pushed me down onto the sheets. The mattress dipped with his weight as he crawled over me. We hadn’t bothered with a lamp; he was hardly visible in the darkness, but half his face was illuminated from the light slipping through the closed curtains. I reached up to touch him, feeling for the features obscured in the shadows.

“I know it’s not much,” he whispered as his mouth traveled down my bare stomach.

I shook my head and clenched the sheet as his hands untied my bikini bottom. He pulled it off and cast it onto the floor with the rest of our mess.

“Freddie…”

I needed him to look up at me. I needed to tell him how I felt before it was too late.

“Freddie, I—”

“I know.” He glanced up to me, but I couldn’t make out his eyes in the darkness. His hands pressed against my thighs, pushing them apart.





MY PHONE BUZZED on the bedside table, jolting me awake. I blinked in the darkness and reached over to silence it before it woke Freddie up as well. Kinsley’s name flashed across the screen and though I was tempted to ignore her call, I knew she’d probably been trying to get ahold of me all night.

I pushed up off the bed and walked into the bathroom. Once the door was shut, I answered with a hushed tone.

“Kinsley, hey—”

“Where are you, Andie?” She sounded frantic. “We need to leave.”

I pulled the phone from my face to look at the time: 2:00 AM. How was it already 2:00 AM?

“I can’t leave yet, Kinsley.”

She sighed. “Andie, where are you? Becca and I already packed up all your stuff. We’ll come pick you up and then head straight for the airport.”

She wasn’t listening to me.

“I can’t go. I have to stay here.”

“Andie, you can’t stay in Rio. This thing with Freddie, if it’s real, you two will find each other again. Right now, you need to focus on yourself. You have that doctor’s appointment tomorrow and then we have to meet up with the rest of our team in a few days for interviews. On Friday we’re flying to the White House for a special dinner with the president.”

My heart was splitting in two, but she kept on talking. “Life goes on. You have to be at these interviews. The world needs to be reminded that you’re a soccer star with your own hopes and dreams, not just another one of Freddie’s groupies.”

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the bathroom wall. I didn’t want her to be right. I wanted to stay in Rio.

“Now, where are you?”

I rattled off the name of the hotel and she promised they’d pick me up in five minutes. I had just enough time to slip out of the bathroom and pull on my dirty clothes. I hadn’t showered since the game, but the ocean had washed away the sweat. My skin was sticky and warm and when I sniffed my arm, it smelled like Freddie. I’d sit on a ten-hour flight back to the United States with his scent wrapped around me.

Kinsley called when they were outside the hotel and I scrambled to gather up my things inside the dark hotel room. Freddie was still asleep, laying on his stomach with his body splayed out over the bed. I made sure his phone had two alarms set so he wouldn’t oversleep, and then I leaned down to kiss his cheek.

A part of me wanted him to wake up and pull him down onto me. I wanted him to hold me down so I couldn’t leave. The plane could take off without me and I’d stay in Rio forever with Freddie.

He didn’t wake though, even after I whispered his name in the dark.

Kinsley called me again and my phone buzzed in my hand. Freddie stirred and rolled over. I froze, but he didn’t wake up. I walked to the door and resisted the urge to look back at him. I had a thousand images to remember him by; one more would only only make it harder to walk away.