“You two, how you say, exercer together?” he asked, his heavy accent muddling the words. He pointed back and forth between us, but ultimately fixed his attention on Andie as if I didn’t exist.

  I stood up and stepped behind her. My shoulder nudged hers and though it was tempting, I didn’t reach out and wrap my hand around her waist. I had Nathan in height and weight. He was smaller than I remembered, and built lean for soccer. Jesus. I sounded like a caveman, even to myself. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sized up another bloke.

  “Yeah, just finishing up, actually,” Andie said, wiping her hand across her forehead. She was sweaty and beautiful, and Nathan was just as aware of it as I was. He dragged his gaze down her legs and nodded with a smile like he was drunk on the sight of her.

  “Good. Good. Tonight we are—a few of us are going to dancing,” he said. “Do you want to come?”

  Andie glanced over her shoulder at me and then turned back to Nathan.

  “Are you inviting both of us?” she asked.

  Nathan—as if only then remembering I even bloody existed—nodded his head with a fake smile. “Yes. Yes, the more the marrying!”

  He was being overly enthusiastic, with a heavy nod and a thumbs up.

  “Oh, okay then. That sounds really fun. I’d love to go,” she said, making his day without even realizing it.

  “Freddie?” Nathan asked with a flat smile.

  If I said yes, I’d have to go and dance about like it was something I actually enjoyed. If I said no, Andie would be at the club alone with Nathan.

  I shrugged. “Not sure, mate. I need to take a look at my schedule.”

  He perked up at that, the wanker.

  I didn’t pay attention when he rattled off the details, but then he was waving goodbye and I had Andie’s attention again. She turned and flashed me a little smile, a nothing smile that told me she knew more than she was letting on.

  “You’re kind of territorial. Do you realize that?”

  No one had ever accused me of that before. I’d never acted the role of the jealous boyfriend. I narrowed my eyes, feigning confusion, and she shook her head.

  “Fine. Forget I said anything.” She waved back to the spot on the mat where she’d been doing sit-ups. “Let’s finish up so we can go get ready.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Andie

  * * *

  I’D PACKED A red dress in my luggage as an afterthought. It was short and skimpy, something I’d never wear in my normal life. I found it in an expensive boutique in L.A. and purchased it on a whim. It was hardly more than a few strips of well-placed fabric, but when I slipped it on in the dressing room of the upscale boutique, I felt sexier than I ever had in my life. It was short and thin, made of a light cotton material that didn’t cling to my skin. The front looked innocent enough, though it did hug my hips and cut off fairly high on my thighs. The real detail was in the back—or lack thereof. The dress was a halter that tied behind my neck and wrapped around my waist, leaving most of my back exposed. I’d tried to figure out a bra situation, but the saleswoman at the boutique had assured me you were supposed to wear it sans brassiere. I’d laughed in her face—seeing as how I didn’t do anything “sans brassiere”—but there I sat, in the back of a cab in Rio, letting the girls fly free. I glanced down again, trying to decide if I should cave and turn back to the village. I knew I wouldn’t though; I felt just as sexy as I had in the dressing room in L.A. The dress felt wild, I felt wild, and I wanted one night in Rio where I wasn’t a soccer player competing in the Olympics, but a twenty-one-year-old girl out for a night on the town.

  “What is this place anyway?” Michelle asked as we pulled up at the address Nathan had given Freddie and I at the gym. The building itself looked unassuming, nothing more than a warehouse really, and if there hadn’t been a line of people winding around the building waiting to get in the front door, I’d have assumed we were at the wrong place.

  “It’s called Mascarada,” I said, handing the driver a few colorful Brazilian bills before sliding out of the back seat after Michelle.

  Inviting her had been an afterthought. I’d wanted to go with Freddie, but I hadn’t been able to get ahold of him after the gym. We’d finished our workout and exchanged numbers. I’d asked him about the club; he’d shrugged and said he’d think about it.

  I checked my phone one last time as we walked toward the entrance of the club.

  * * *

  Andie: Do you want to ride to the club together?

  Freddie: You go ahead. I’m not sure if I’m going.

  Andie: Do you want me to wait for you?

  * * *

  I’d sent the last text an hour earlier and he’d never replied. I’d given up hope and invited Michelle so I wouldn’t have to go alone, and as the two of us flashed our athlete badges—Nathan had suggested it as a quick way to bypass the line—I wondered if maybe it was a good thing Freddie wouldn’t be there. I could find a new guy, someone to focus on who wasn’t already spoken for.

  “Do you two have masks?” the bouncer asked, handing our badges back to us. I slipped it into my purse and shook my head.

  “Are we supposed to?”

  “Go in and turn left,” he said, reaching past us for the next I.D. “You’ll find one there.”

  Michelle shot me a curious glance as we stepped forward, past the club doors. “What was he talking about? Masks?”

  I didn’t have to answer her because the moment we walked into the dark club, it made sense. The club was called Mascarada because it was an actual nightly masquerade. Everyone we passed in the foyer was wearing a mask that covered some or all of their face.

  “C’mon,” Michelle said, tugging my arm and leading me to the left where the bouncer had directed us. The hallway was packed with people trying to get to and from a small room at the very end. We pushed through the crowd and I stood frozen as I came face to face with masks in every shape, size, and color. Feathers, glitter, rhinestones, bows, lace. They were beautiful and exotic, and I knew I’d have a hard time picking just one.

  “Entra! Come in!” an older woman called from behind a small counter in the back corner of the room. She had white hair, tied up in a severe bun on top of her head. She waved everyone forward, trying to tame the crowd. “Find a mask and then check out with me before you leave.”

  Easier said than done.

  I reached for a white mask hanging on the wall just past the door. It was glittery, cheap, and a bit obnoxious, but I could hardly move in the room, and I didn’t care enough to shove through the crowd and try on others. Michelle reached for a blue one next to where I’d found mine, and we edged our way toward the back counter to make our purchases.

  It was ten or fifteen minutes before we made it to the front of the line. I’d been jostled and shoved more times than I cared to count, but when I dropped my mask on the counter and reached for the extra money in my small clutch, the woman manning the station shook her head.

  “No. No. This one won’t do,” she said, eyeing me over the rim of her glasses. Up close, she was even smaller than I’d expected. Before I could protest, she abandoned her station at the counter and disappeared into the crowd. I glanced back at Michelle, confused.

  “Out of my way!” the woman shouted, though I couldn’t pinpoint where exactly she was located in the room. She was a sneaky little thing.

  People behind us in line eyed me with annoyance, but I shrugged and turned around. It was a few minutes before the woman sidled back behind the counter with a content exhale.

  “Here,” she said, dropping a new mask on the counter in front of me and reaching to grab the cash out of my hand. “Melhor. Better.” She was ringing me up before I’d even confirmed that I wanted the new mask, but I’d have been an idiot to turn it down. It was exquisite, the same red hue as my dress and made completely of brocade lace. It tied in the back with black silk ribbon and I didn’t even care to find out what it cost. I needed it. Maybe I’d even wear it for the first game. And the one after that too.

  Michelle helped me tie it once we’d made it back out to the hallway. The lace was soft against my skin, seductive even. I met my gaze in a hazy mirror hanging on the wall and silently thanked the woman for taking the time to find it for me. With my red dress, red lace mask, and confident smirk, I was hardly recognizable, even to myself.

  “All right, let’s go,” Michelle said once her mask was in place. “I need a drink.”

  I’d assumed the inside of the club would be less crowded than the mask room, but there were people everywhere. Even with three levels full of private tables, booths, and dark alcoves, I couldn’t take more than two steps without brushing against a random person.

  The masks had a heady effect on the entire experience. Even the bartenders wore them so that when I leaned in to shout my drink order to one of them, I couldn’t be sure he’d heard me. He whipped around to reach for a bottle of liquor and I glanced up, taking in the entire club. The space was shaped like a rectangle with three stories. The center of the room was open from floor to ceiling so that the people on the top floors could lean over the railing and watch the dancers. It was like surround sound for all of the senses.

  Michelle tapped my shoulder and I turned to find my drink waiting for me on the bar. We paid and wound back through the crowd, trying in vain to find the group Nathan had promised would be there. We tried the dance floor, curling around the perimeter of jostling bodies without luck.

  “Let’s try the second floor,” Michelle said, pointing to a set of stairs in the corner of the room.

  That was where we ended up finding them; they were sitting at a long table, three drinks ahead of us and loud enough to prove it. I’d nearly passed by them without notice, but Nathan had shouted my name.

  “Andie!”

  I turned and watched him stand to greet me on uneven footing. He smelled like liquor when he pulled me into a hug, but I smiled and introduced him to Michelle. Her smile was wide and genuine—clearly she was interested—and in an instant I felt like a third wheel.

  “Michelle quiero mucho dance,” I said, hoping my broken Spanish would be close enough to the Portuguese translation.

  Nathan arched a brow and held out his hand.

  “Should we?”

  Michelle’s big brown eyes widened behind her mask. “Oh, but I just got my drink.”

  I rolled my eyes, took it out of her hand, and took a long sip. “There. Problem solved. Now go.”

  Nathan wrapped his hand around her waist and led her back to the stairs we’d just climbed. Without him there, I didn’t have a real connection to the group, and even if I had hopes for recognizing someone, with the masks on, it was nearly impossible. I found a seat at the end of the long table just as everyone held up small shot glasses. The girl closest to me slid Nathan’s over and nodded.

  “Are you a friend of Nathan’s?” she asked, eyeing my dress.

  I shrugged. “Sort of. I’m here for the games.”

  She smiled. “Same here.”

  Maybe I’d have recognized her, but she was wearing an emerald green mask that covered most of her face, save for a pair of red lips.

  “Okay!” a guy down the table shouted, drawing our attention back to the task at hand: shots. He held his glass in the air, sloshing a bit of Fireball Whisky over the side. “Here’s to winning gold, and drinking it too!”

  “Cheers!” everyone called back as they tipped back their shots. I sniffed the glass and wrinkled my nose. My limit for the night had been one drink, and I already had two in front of me. If I started in on shots, there was no way I’d be a functioning human in the morning.

  The shot was a good icebreaker though, especially since they didn’t notice me slide mine down the table untouched. Mask Girl and I got to talking and she introduced me to a few other people in the group. Names were too hard to hear over the music, and even the ones I did hear didn’t stick to memory. With the masks on, it wasn’t like it mattered anyway; we could have been anyone.

  The table prepared for another shot and I glanced around for Michelle. I’d assumed she and Nathan would dance to a few songs and then head back up, but they’d been gone long enough that I wondered if they were even still inside the club. I pulled my phone out of my purse, secretly hoping for a text from Freddie. Nothing.

  How hard was it to reply to a text?

  The table clinked their shot glasses together and I stared at my phone, willing the text bubble to pop up.

  “CHEERS!” they shouted as I started typing out another reply. I was breaking the rules by texting him again, but I was too lonely and bored to care.

  * * *

  Andie: I wish you were here.

  * * *

  I had barely slipped my phone back into my purse when it buzzed again. I pulled it out with a shaky hand.

  * * *

  Freddie: Be careful what you wish for.

  * * *

  I read the message twice before I realized my heart was racing with the shock of his reply. Did that mean he was in the club? He’d come after all? I twisted my head around, looking for him, but he wasn’t on the second floor, as least not from what I could see.

  I hit send on a message that told him where I was, but it wouldn’t go through. I’d been able to send a text just a minute earlier, but now the cell reception decided to turn spotty. Perfect. I tried again and then glanced around our table. He wasn’t on the second floor. I shoved my phone into my clutch and stood from the table.

  “I’ll be back,” I promised the group, though no one seemed to notice my departure.

  My first idea was to go down to the mask shop, but he wasn’t in the crowded room. I stood by the door, watching people filter in and out and trying to spot his tall frame. I tried to text him again from that spot, but my phone still wouldn’t cooperate.

  I walked back into the club and stood just to the side of the dance floor, spinning in a circle. I glanced up to the second and third floor balconies. There were plenty of people hanging over the railing, shouting, dancing, and drinking, but none of them were Freddie. I drew my gaze higher, up to the ceiling of the club. I hadn’t realized it before, but it was made of glass. Thousands of pieces of shattered glass fragments pieced together like a puzzle. My broken reflection stared back at me. I looked like a lost red devil in the center of the room. While everyone else moved and danced and drank, I stood frozen, trying to find someone I had no business looking for. It was in those fragmented pieces of glass that I first found him reflected back to me, dressed in black, masked, and walking up behind me.

  There’s a sensation that comes with shock. That fast flood of endorphins that riles your senses. Your stomach twists and your hands shake and your heart beats so fast that even you aren’t sure who is controlling it: you or him. That’s how it felt when Freddie stepped up behind me in the club. His hand pressed against my lower back, skimming against my bare skin.

  I closed my eyes, listened as he whispered hello in my ear, and fell into the kind of madness I’d avoided for so many years. For so long, I’d lived in the confines of my regimented life, but now I was in Rio, and Freddie still had his hand on the small of my back.

  Inviting him to the club had been a mistake, but he was there and I wasn’t going to say no.

  I wanted to taste madness.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Freddie

  * * *

  ANDIE WAS A red temptress standing alone in the club, and I wanted to devour her. Her dress was nothing, some fabric tied behind her neck and little else. No bra. Bloody hell. Her back was completely exposed and as I walked closer, I dragged my gaze down her spine, getting my fill of the tan skin I wasn’t allowed to touch.

  I’d spent enough time memorizing her body to recognize it, even behind the mask. She was beautiful. Blonde hair hung loose across her shoulders, silky and long. Gray eyes and long lashes stood out against the red lace. I didn’t stop myself from touching her back. She was looking up, watching me in the mirrors when I stepped close and whispered hello.

  “You look beautiful.”

  She didn’t reply. She twisted around and faced me, dropping her gaze from the ceiling so she could meet my eyes. There was a darkness there that she usually kept hidden. Her playful, cheeky smile was tucked away. Instead, her full lips held the promise of a smirk—the kind that told me she and I wouldn’t be spending the night as friends.

  “Do you need a drink?” she asked, eyeing my empty hands.

  I nodded and led us to the bar. It was crowded—the whole place was, really. I stayed close to Andie, tucking her into my side so I could feel her body there beside mine. She didn’t protest, though I could sense a stillness inside her, a fight over whether she should let this happen. I didn’t give her enough time to think it over.

  “Is anyone waiting for you?” I asked after placing my order with the bartender.

  She shook her head but kept quiet, eyeing the bottles of alcohol behind the bar.

  “Do you want to have a dance?” I said, though I prayed she’d say no. I hated dancing in front of other people. To me, if you did it right, dancing was intimate and raw—something better reserved for private rooms and dark corners.

  She shook her head again.

  The bartender slid my drink across the bar and I took the glass in one hand and Andie’s arm in the other. I led us away from the bar before she could ask where we were going, and I found the first flight of stairs that could lead us toward a place I wasn’t sure we were ready to find.