Out of Bounds (The Summer Games #2)

  Lexi gagged. “That’s an Olympic-sanctioned event. It’s like an ice cream social with chaperones.” She turned and leaned in toward both of us. “I’m talking about real parties, the kind where pants are optional.”

  I stared down at my jean shorts and Lexi laughed.

  “Why would Brie want to go to those?” Molly asked with a hushed tone. “Unless of course they allow coaches in as well?”

  I glared at her. “Stop.”

  “What?” she asked innocently. “The tension between you two has hit a new level. You won’t tell me what happened at yoga, so I can only assume the worst.”

  She waggled her eyebrows and I shook my head. “Nothing happened.”

  Lexi coughed. “Liar.”

  Another giggle sounded from first class and I leaned forward to rifle through my backpack for my MP3 player. I wouldn’t survive the flight, not with Erik up there ignoring me and Lexi and Molly interrogating me. I stuffed my earbuds into my ears and closed my eyes, crossing my arms when Lexi tried to get my attention.

  “Wake me up when we get there,” I said, squeezing my eyes closed harder.

  “Fine,” she said, just before tugging one of my headphones out so I could hear the second part of her sentence. “But after the mixer tonight, we’re going out—Olympic style.”

  It was a short drive from the airport to the village, though that didn’t make it any better. All six of us were stuffed into the same shuttle. As we’d loaded up, Erik had stood back, letting us all climb in first. He didn’t make eye contact with me as I passed him, but his hand pressed to my lower back, guiding me toward the back seat. I’d shivered at his touch and I knew the bastard had felt it.

  Once we were all inside, he’d hopped in and slid the large door closed behind him. For the twenty-minute drive, I stared at the back of his head, taking in the clean cut of his inky black hair and trying hard to read his thoughts; I wanted to get to the juicy stuff: the things that kept him up at night, what he really thought of me. I could smell his body wash from my perch behind him. It was a scent I’d come to associate with lust and longing. I hated it.

  Lexi leaned in close and whispered, “You haven’t blinked in like five minutes. I think there’s dust collecting on your eyeballs.”

  I elbowed her in the chest and she laughed, not the least bit deterred.

  “Whoa! Look!” Rosie said, pointing out the window as our shuttle drove into the Olympic Village.

  The place was everything I’d imagined: new and luxurious. It reminded me of an outdoor mall with shops lining a central road. There were coffee shops, salons, bookstores, pharmacies. Anything we needed was only a short walk away from the American athlete complex.

  “Don’t be late this evening and don’t do anything stupid,” Erik said, keeping his attention out the window. “We have qualifications in two days, so no alcohol and no parties.”

  “Gonna put a guard outside our door?” Lexi challenged.

  I caught his subtle smirk. “If I have to.”

  “Will you be there tonight?” I asked the back of his head. It was the first time I’d talked to him in two days and I regretted the question as soon as I’d asked it.

  “With the coaches,” he answered with a cool, even tone, never glancing away from the window.

  “What about the men’s gymnastics team?” Lexi asked. “Will they be there?”

  I shot her a curious glance. She wasn’t interested in the men’s gymnastics team; she was into soccer players.

  He shrugged. “They should be.”

  Lexi squealed and grabbed my arm. “Perfect, Brie. That means you’ll get to see Noah!”

  Lexi was an evil genius, and she wouldn’t let me forget it.

  “Did you see the way he reacted to the mention of Noah?!” she asked, falling back on my bed and letting her arms splay out wide. She was still reveling in her “well-placed jealousy bomb”, as she’d so humbly dubbed it.

  “You mean the way he didn’t react?” I asked, pulling out another shirt and hanging it up in my closet. We’d just arrived to our five-room condo and I was unpacking. I’d managed to hang up two shirts in my small closet before Lexi let herself into my room so we could continue to discuss her favorite topic as of late: Erik. Though we each had our own bedroom in the large condo, Lexi and I were paired up to share a bathroom, which apparently meant she had free rein of my room as well.

  “His jaw clenched so tight I thought it would break!” She laughed, pushing up to lean on her hands.

  “Well I didn’t see that.”

  She rolled to the side and propped her head on her hand. “Fine, new subject. So you and Noah are still friends?”

  Noah. Easy, nice Noah.

  I shrugged. “We were never really anything more than friends. We ended things pretty amicably. We went out for dinner while we were competing at Worlds, but like I said, he ended the night with a high five. By the time we returned to the States, there was too much distance between us. Besides, we both needed to focus on gymnastics.”

  “And he didn’t make your heart race and your palms sweat the way Erik does.”

  I swallowed. “And that.”

  I seriously needed to stop confiding in Lexi.

  “But maybe he’s a late bloomer and now he’s some confident sex-god. Are you excited to see him tonight?”

  I hadn’t really thought about it. When I’d made the Olympic team, Noah had sent me a long text congratulating me. We’d gone back and forth a few times, agreeing to meet up in Rio if we had the chance.

  “I’ll be happy to see a familiar face. He’s a nice guy.”

  She squealed and pushed off the bed. “Perfect. He’s just the bait we need. Meet me in the bathroom in ten minutes.”

  I finished hanging up my clothes and shot my mom a quick text to let her know I’d arrived in Rio, safe and sound—though sharing a bathroom with Lexi didn’t guarantee I’d stay that way.

  “This is what you’re wearing to the mixer.”

  Excuse me?

  Lexi was standing in my doorway, holding up a silky black dress that looked super sexy and about a foot too short for a public outing.

  I shook my head. “I can’t wear that.”

  “Just try it on,” she insisted, handing it over before I could protest. The material was soft in my hand, and I decided I’d humor her. Once she saw how low-cut the top was on me, I’d tear it off and find something to wear that was more appropriate.

  I slid into the dress, loving the feel of it against my skin. The triangle top cut across my breasts and showed off a bit of cleavage. The black silky material stretched tight across my stomach and then flared gently around my hips in an A-line cut that balanced the low-cut top.

  In my life, I could count on one hand the number of times I’d felt truly sexy. Usually I was stuck in leotards, sweaty and tired after practice. My body was sculpted and beautiful, but I rarely noticed. The second I saw my reflection in that little black dress, I knew I wouldn’t take it off. I looked good. The dress showed off every inch of my petite frame and when Lexi dropped a pair of simple strappy nude heels in front of me, I didn’t even protest.

  “Can I do your hair and makeup?” she asked with her hands squeezed together in a plea. “I think a tiny bit of eye shadow and mascara will make your eyes pop.”

  Lexi’s makeup always looked good. In the last month, I’d learned that she spent more time watching makeup tutorials on YouTube than anyone else on earth. Even still, I called Molly in to supervise her just to be safe.

  “Is she doing too much eye shadow?” I asked ten minutes later, trying to peek through my closed lids.

  Molly stepped in front of me, blocking the mirror.

  “Don’t look yet!” she said, holding out her hands. “You look so freaking good, just relax. Erik’s going to eat his tongue,” Molly said with a triumphant smile.

  “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 loo
ked 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.