“American athletes, your busses will leave first! Please find your group and make sure you have your badges with you or you won’t be allowed into the stadium for the ceremonies!”
Kinsley dragged me past a group of guys pulling flasks out of their red jumpsuits. (I guessed Lorena had been on to something with all the pockets.)
“Here’s to being drunk for the entire Parade of Nations,” one of the guys proclaimed. His buddies laughed and leaned forward to clink their flasks against his. I watched in awe as they all took long swigs. Weren’t they worried about looking drunk on TV?
“C’mon,” Kinsley said, drawing my attention back to the pathway she was trying to make. I let her pull me through, ignoring the groans from the people she was brushing out of the way.
“Where you goin’ girls?” one guy asked. “Party’s right here.”
Kinsley flashed her ring. “I’ve already got a party of two.”
“Boo,” he said, waving his hand and moving on to his next conquest.
That’s when I first saw Freddie. He was on the opposite side of the lobby, standing on a small staircase that separated the sunken lobby from the hallway that led to the food court. He stood up on the third stair, leaning back against the railing. There were other British athletes around him, talking and joking, but he seemed uninterested, surveying the crowd instead.
I’d seen him in suits, workout clothes, and dressed down in jeans, but seeing Frederick Archibald standing there in his opening ceremonies outfit was physically painful. They’d put him in a tight navy sweater and matching slacks. On everyone else, the outfit looked foolish, but his broad shoulders and strong arms filled out the sweater too easily, making it fit like it’d been designed with exactly his body type in mind.
His medium-length hair was brushed back in one of those GQ cover styles. He’d just shaved and I visually inhaled the sight of his strong jaw, committing it to memory as best as possible before his gaze landed on me in the crowd.
Fuck. He’d caught me staring at him.
My breath caught in my throat and though I wanted to, I couldn’t look away.
“Andie?” Kinsley asked.
Someone walked in front of me, cutting us off for a moment, but when they moved, he was still there, watching me from across the room. There was no smile playing on his lips, no hint of friendship, just those caramel brown eyes assessing me coolly. I hated his beauty. I hated the way his attention made my heart race and my palms sweat. I could tell myself to look away, but deep down, I knew that until he was done with me, I’d never be done with him.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Freddie
“YOU LOOKED LIKE a knob in that outfit last night.”
I groaned. “Georgie, it’s too early in the morning for your sarcasm.”
“I’m telling the truth. Who designed those things anyway? Why can’t they just put you in a pair of normal trousers?”
“Did you and Mum watch the whole thing?”
“She did. I got bored after a few minutes. I did stick around long enough to see this Andie of yours carry the flag for the Yanks though.”
“And?”
“And she is quite pretty.”
I wiped the sleep from my eyes.
“How’s that progressing by the way?”
“Terribly.”
“That’s because you looked like a knob. No American girl wants a man who wears sweaters. You’ve probably gone and scared her off.”
“Is this why you’ve phoned me, Georgie? To torment me?”
She sighed. “No. I overheard your conversation with Mum earlier.”
I waited for her to continue.
“Are you seriously considering scuttling the betrothal?”
“More than serious. I’ve made my mind up. I don’t want to marry Caroline.”
“Because you’re gaga over this American footballer?”
Yes.
“No, it’s because I’ve never wanted to marry Caroline, and I shouldn’t go through with a marriage only to fulfill some antiquated notion of familial responsibility.”
“Won’t Caroline’s family be cross?”
“I don’t really care. If Henry’s death taught me anything, it’s that life is too short to worry about upsetting people—especially when you’re doing what’s right.”
“Well, Mum explained to me why it’s important for you to marry Caroline, how good it’ll be for the family, but I agree with you. Caroline is such a bore, Freddie. I’d go mad if I had her as a sister-in-law for the rest of my life.”
I smiled. “So you’re on my side?”
“’Course. Well, except about the sweater. You really ought to burn that thing.”
“I think Andie liked it. She stared at me when she first saw me in the lobby downstairs.”
She laughed. “Yes, Fred. She was probably concerned that you’d lost your mind wearing a thing like that.”
A fist pounded against my door before I could reply.
“Freddie open up,” Thom shouted. “I’ve prepared a lovely breakfast for you, including all the crispy bacon, so stop being a mope and get out here.”
I shoved off the bed and opened the door for Thom.
“I’m talking to Georgie, not moping.”
“He’s moping!” Georgie yelled through the phone loud enough for Thom to hear.