Page 57 of Oar Than Friends

‘You have nothing to say that I wish to hear.’

‘For God’s sake, Arthur. Don’t be so childish. If your brothers and sister can speak to me, then so can you.’

Whatever glib reply I was about to snap out died on my lips. I was ninety-five per cent certain none of my siblings had spoken to him. I knew this because I spoke to them all at some point most days. We were also in a group chat with my mother, and any contact with him had not been mentioned, so I called bullshit. Though there was always the possibility there could be a grain of truth in it which they hadn’t wanted to admit to.

‘I didn’t realize they were more interested in hearing your bullshit than I am, but I can assure you I’m definitely not.’

‘No,’ he snapped, ‘seems you’re too busy with not only fucking up your schooling, you’re fucking up your rowing as well. I’ve heard about this childish stunt gone wrong, wasting valuable study time on cleaning up all the shit on the river, when there are already people to do it.’

‘You mean like you have people to clean up your shit? Believe me I’ll do a much better job, though keeping you out of the papers seems to be as near an impossible feat as you keeping your dick out of your secretary. Or whoever the last one was.’

From the silence on the line, I knew if I could see him his face would be turning a healthy shade of beetroot.

‘You’re an obnoxious little shit, Arthur. You will amount to nothing with this attitude. When will you grow up?’

‘Problem there, Dad …’ I spat, ‘I’ve already amounted to far more in my twenty-one years than you have in your fifty. So fuck you. And don’t call me again.’

I hit call end and turned around to find Charlie and Brooks standing close enough that I knew they’d heard every word, but far enough away to give me a little privacy while also stopping any of the guys on the crew from approaching me. Like my own personal security team.

I took a deep breath. The calm I’d felt as I’d breezed along the river this morning had vanished in the sunrise, only to be replaced by grinding teeth and a pounding heartbeat. Not the good kind.

‘You okay?’ Brooks squeezed my shoulder. ‘Need a minute?’

‘No,’ I grunted, as the thick, unwelcome wedge of angry tears lodged itself firmly in my throat, ‘Yes.’

Charlie moved around me, blocking me from the viewof anyone passing as I took a huge sniff, and wiped my watery eyes. I pressed my palms so hard into my eye sockets that my vision blurred for a second when I opened them.

‘I think I legit hate him.’

‘I know I do,’ Brooks and Charlie replied in unison, making the three of us laugh and diluting the rage sitting on my chest.

‘Thanks.’ I pulled them both in for a hug. ‘Don’t know what I’d do without you.’

‘Great, then perhaps you could get in the shower before you buy Brooks and me second breakfast on the way home. You stink.’ Charlie wafted his hand dramatically under his nose.

I laughed but did as Mother Hen requested.

I shuffled up my bed and settled in, propping myself on my pillows, and leaned back against the headrest. The cup of herbal tea I’d made was cooling on the nightstand next to my pint of water. Running my fingers through my hair, I smoothed down the hoodie I was wearing, and cupped my hands around my mouth before I realized what I was doing.

Nope, she couldn’t smell me, even though I was minty fresh.

It dawned on me I’d never put this much effort into a conversation I was about to have with any girl I was dating. Sort of dating. Definitely dating. Well, if I had any say in it at all. Not that I had ever really dated.

But Kate Astley was not just any girl. It had taken me approximately nine seconds to realize that.

I hit dial.

For a second as the screen cleared, my breath caught. I had a good memory, and every time I thought I’d committed her face to it I only realized how woefully I’d failed the next time I saw her. She really was breathtaking.

‘Hey, there.’ Her breathy voice as she shuffled around in her room had my body jolting out from the relaxed state I’d been in a minute ago. ‘I wasn’t expecting a video call.’

Her bare face, freshly washed and without a scrap of make-up, smiled back at me, making her dimple deepen and the apple of her cheeks appear pinker than usual. I tried to ignore the fact her hair was wet and she was fresh from the shower, because my dick had already been paying attention to her and was now twitching at the thought of her soaped up and running shampoo through her long, dark hair – the entire scene was too much for me to cope with before bed.

As it was I’d mentally mapped out the quickest route from Oxford to Cambridge, and at this time of night avoiding any speed cameras, I could probably get there in an hour and twenty. It would almost be worth the morning tiredness and skipping my lecture on philology and linguistics in lieu of a nap. I mean, I skipped them most weeks anyway and caught up on the coursework in my own time.

‘Hello there, Yankee Doodle. Thought I’d surprise you.’

‘Consider me surprised,’ she replied, propping her phone on what I assumed was her desk as she pulled a sweater over her vest top, though I was willing to bet she hadn’t meant to position it directly in front of her tits. It was brief but as she stretched her arms over her head thewhite cotton of her top pulled so taut I could very clearly see the outline of a hard nipple. It did nothing to help my dick calm down; that visual was being committed to my brain forever.

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