Page 8 of Oar Than Friends

‘What was your question again?’ he asked.

I waved my hand along the length of his body. ‘Why are you lying out here with a bottle of gin, dressed like a spy? Are you sure you’re okay?’

His deep laugh rippled across me like a breeze over still waters. ‘I’m fine, current injury notwithstanding. I’m waiting for my friend to come back. Now, I wanted to know why you came to Cambridge, instead of attending an American university, which I suspect you knew.’

I grinned back at him; he wasn’t just a pretty face.

But then I hesitated, because I’d already let my emotions spill over once this evening. Even with the distraction of this current situation playing out, the call with my mom was still far too close to the surface for me to divulge ‘why Cambridge?’ to a stranger.

I couldn’t tell if he’d noticed my unease, but he shiftedforward and loudly cracked his knuckles, ‘Okay, let’s start with an easy one. What’s your name?’

I smiled softly, ‘Kate. Kate Astley.’

‘Well, Kate Astley. It’s good to meet you.’

I grinned, waiting for the tell as I studied his face, expecting another quip about me ruining his chances to procreate, but nothing. ‘I can’t even tell if you’re lying.’

He picked up the gin, holding it to his lips while he held my gaze, ‘I don’t lie.’

As he tipped the bottle back, I rubbed away the odd fluttering sensation taking place in my chest. Or tried to. It didn’t seem to want to move.

‘Now my dick doesn’t feel like it’s about to fall off, I can genuinely say it’s good to meet you. I’m Oz.’

‘Like the Wizard of?’

‘Ha, maybe. I like that.’ He barked out a laugh. ‘Want to take a ride down my Yellow Brick Road?’

From the casual curl of his lip it was clear he was trying to get a rise out of me, but it didn’t stop the heat flushing through my body, or the highly inappropriate and thoroughly distracting images of him flickering in my brain.

‘No,’ I scoffed, lifting the gin bottle to my lips and praying he didn’t notice my shaking hand.

A cool breeze whipped across the quadrangle, rustling through the trees around us, and had me rubbing away the goosebumps along my arms. Not that it helped, especially when Oz reached behind his head to pull his sweater off, and hand it to me. I tried to look away as his t-shirt rode up, revealing a taut stretch of deeply bronzed skin and what I had no doubt was an impressive set of abs.

Suddenly I was no longer cold. Where was a bottle of water when you needed one?

I shook my head, ‘No, I can’t take that. I’m fine. It’s just a little cool air, and I’m jet lagged and tired. I should probably head home.’

Yes, that was definitely the sensible plan. Go home. Go to bed. Not stay here in my borderline drunk state with a stranger, even if I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

‘It’s fine, I run hot. Put it on, then you can stay until Olly gets here.’

‘Who’s Olly?’

‘A friend.’ He pointed to the sweater I was now holding. ‘Put it on, Kate Astley. Do as you’re told.’

I snorted, but did as ordered and my senses were immediately assaulted by the most hedonistic, earthy man scent twined with the softest cashmere brushing against my bare arms. I could wear this sweater for the rest of my life, and I’d die happy.

‘Thank you,’ I murmured, ‘I’m sorry about hurting you.’

‘I’m sorry I was lying in your path.’ He grinned back, his wide mouth spreading across his face, showing off straight white teeth.

Once more I found myself thinking that he was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.

He lay back on the grass and patted the space next to him. ‘Come and join me down here.’

Suddenly the weariness I’d felt back in the bar vanished in the breeze still moving through the air, and I felt more alert than I had in a long time. Longer than I could remember. I also wasn’t entirely sure what I thought I was doing.

I should be going to bed. I had work to do tomorrow. I’d arranged to meet my new friends down at the boat club. Not to mention it was past midnight. I didn’t think I’d seen midnight since I was old enough to realize Santa wasn’t real and didn’t have to wait up for him anymore.

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