The Summer Games: Out of Bounds (21 page)

“Don’t we want him to eat something else?” Lexi asked.

My jaw dropped. “LEXI.”

“Oh please. Everyone was thinking it.”

A few minutes later, after Lexi had nearly burned me with the curling iron, poked my eye out with the mascara wand, and yanked my hair with a brush so hard I could have sworn I was bleeding from my scalp, she stepped back and waved her hands in front of me.

“Voila! Sexy by Lexi.”

I took a deep breath and glanced up, prepared for the worst.

“Holy…”

I couldn’t even get the second word out of my mouth. Lexi had worked some serious magic on my appearance. I angled my face left and right, taking in the soft brown and gold eye shadows she’d used to cover my lids. I had even, tan skin, but she’d done something to make it glow under the bathroom lights.

Lexi crossed her arms, proud of herself. “See? Subtle, but sensual.” She reached out to push my hair forward so the long loose waves fell over my shoulder. It felt like silk against my bare skin.

“What about lipstick?” I asked, taking in my pale pink lips.

“I was going to suggest some, but I figured you’d fight me on it.”

“How about red?”

Lexi squealed and lunged for her makeup bag. “YES. I have the perfect shade for your skin tone.”

Molly laughed and shook her head. “Why do I feel like we’re preparing Brie for
more
than just the mixer?”

I let a slow-spreading predatory smile unfold across my lips as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

You’re preparing me for war.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Brie

Our gymnastics mixer
coincided with the opening ceremonies. I was sad to be missing out, and though the parade of nations takes hours on end, it would have been fun to meet the other athletes competing for the United States. Rather than having us attend, the U.S. Gymnastics Association had invited male and female gymnasts from every competing country in an effort to “unite nations” for one common goal: bringing gymnastics programs to the less fortunate across the globe. Our involvement would ensure that enough donors with deep pockets would be in attendance. In exchange, we waltzed around the room, stuffed our faces with hors d’oeuvres, and smiled for the cameras when they were aimed at us.

All in all, it wasn’t so bad. They’d rented out a ballroom inside a hotel in the heart of downtown Rio, a few miles away from the village. The decor was beautiful and the lighting was low, giving off an elegant tone.

“Have you tried the chicken skewer things?” Molly said with a full mouth.

Well,
almost elegant
.

“Um, ma’am there’s a limit per guest…”

I glanced over to see Molly trying to shove nearly half the tray onto her small appetizer plate.

Lexi stepped forward and waved the waiter away. “Do you realize who she is?! She’s not a guest; she’s the reason we’re all here, buddy. If she wants to eat
your
skinny little chicken legs, you’d better let her!”

He flitted away, opting not to call Lexi’s bluff.

Molly blushed. “I’m just really hungry from the flight.”

She had a point. We were all athletes with intense training regimes; feeding us tiny chicken bites was just cruel.

I brought my glass of water to my lips and continued my survey of the room. I’d been looking for Erik for the last twenty minutes, ever since we’d first arrived, and I still hadn’t found him in the crowd.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get real food after this,” Lexi assured her. “I saw like twenty restaurants on the way here.”

“Where’s Rosie?” I asked.

“Talking to a reporter. They latched onto her as soon as we arrived and she’s too polite to walk away.”

I cringed. I had no interest in talking to reporters. They asked the same questions every single time: are you ready for the games, have you been training hard, are you nervous, etc.

“Well if she’s still trapped by the time Molly finishes eating her family chicken platter, we should go save her.”

“Where’s June?” Molly asked, holding out her plate for us to steal from. I waved it away, too nervous to eat.

“Eh,” Lexi replied. “Last time I saw her, she was trying to suck some French guy’s dick.”

Had I been eating, I would have choked. “Wait what?”

She shrugged. “She’s over there talking to the French gymnasts.”

I followed her finger and found June in a circle, smiling and chatting away without a care in the world.

“I don’t understand her,” Molly said.

Lexi turned to me with wide eyes. “Incoming.”

Before I could process what she meant, I felt a solid hand hit my lower back.

“Brie!”

I turned over my shoulder and locked eyes with Noah—sweet, handsome Noah. His bright brown eyes held my attention for a moment before I let my gaze fall down his body. He’d grown up since I’d last seen him; he wasn’t the boy I’d left at Worlds the year before. This version of Noah was a year older and half a foot taller.

“I thought that was you,” he said, bending to wrap me in a hug.

I inhaled his cologne and felt my heart flutter before he took a step back and gave me enough space to assess him. He was wearing black pants and a charcoal gray button-down rolled up to his elbows. His blond hair was a bit overgrown, falling over his forehead and adding to his boyish charm.

“You look good,” he said, raising a brow as he stole a quick glance down my body.

I laughed and thanked him before introducing him to Lexi and Molly.

“We’ve heard sooo much about you,” Lexi oozed. “Brie said you guys met last year at Worlds?”

He smiled wider, revealing a dimple on the right side of his mouth. “We became friends there and then I somehow talked her into going on a few dates with me.”

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 fuck 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.

I needed to be closer to him, to catch his scent or hear his voice, something that would connect us. I walked right behind him and held my breath, expecting him to reach out and stop me, to call a fucking spade a spade.

He didn’t falter from his conversation, but one of the other coaches noticed me walking by and reached out to stop me.

“Oh, Erik! Isn’t this one yours?”

My back bristled as the group turned to asses me.

Yes. Tell them I’m
yours,
Erik.

Erik took a sip of his drink and nodded. “Brie Watson.”

The pretty coach with blonde hair and a runner’s body stepped forward.

“I watched you compete at Worlds. You’re quite a vision up on the beam,” she said with a genuine smile and an adorable English accent. She reached her hand out for me and I shook it as she introduced herself. “I’m Valerie. I coach for Great Britain.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, hearing the strain in my voice.

Erik was a foot away from me but he wouldn’t make eye contact, wouldn’t grace me with his gaze.

“Could I speak with you for a second, uh, Coach?” I asked, turning to him. There were half a dozen eyes pinned on us, waiting for his answer, and when he shook his head, my heart broke in two.

“It can wait until tomorrow, right?”

He looked bored when he turned to me, like he was assessing a complete stranger. I wanted to reach up and slap him, but instead, I clenched my fists by my sides and swallowed down my embarrassment with my head held high.

“I—sure,” I said, unsure of how to counter his presumption without sounding desperate.

“Go ahead Erik,” Valerie said, concern etched across her features. “I’ll just go—”

He cut her off and stepped forward, turning his back to me. “It’s all right. What were you saying about the coach’s orientation in the morning?”

My mouth dropped.
Fucking asshole.
How could someone be so cold? So domineering? So indifferent? I wanted to tear him apart for treating me like that in front of other people, but there was nothing I could do that wouldn’t draw untoward attention to us.

I turned away and tried to find Noah again. He was right where I’d left him with a smile and a glass of water, waiting for me like a true gentleman. Noah was the person I belonged with; he made so much more sense.

“Do you want to go sit down and talk?” he asked, holding his hand to a safe spot behind my shoulder.

I forced a polite smile. “I’d love to.”

Sometime later, while I was at the bar with Noah, ordering another water, Erik stepped up to join us. He could have slid into the space beside me, but he chose to go on the other side of Noah, putting a clear distance between us.

His eyes caught mine and a challenge was issued with a single look. I pressed up onto my toes and slipped my hand around Noah’s back. He’d been going on about something stupid, but the second my lips hit his ear, he shut up and listened.

“What are you doing after this?” I asked Noah, keeping my eyes on Erik.