‘Hi,’ Laurel said. Her sunglasses were propped on top of her head and she looked tired, but he didn’t miss her eyes as they flitted over his chest and down his stomach. Nate grabbed his t-shirt from where he’d tucked it in his shorts, wiped his face, and pulled it over his head. By the time he’d done that, Rebecca had disentangled herself from Laurel and had pasted a smile on her face.
‘Out for a run?’ Laurel asked, her face flushing ever so slightly. Did she remember flirting with him, sending those ridiculous messages last night? Or was there something else going on?
‘Yep.’ He grinned.
Rebecca looked at Laurel oddly. ‘I haven’t asked, how was last night?’
‘Yeah, it was really good,’ Nate said. ‘Oh, except for George Hibbert.’
‘George Hibbert? What did that little twat do?’ Rebecca sighed, looking at Laurel expectantly.
Laurel rolled her eyes.
‘Oh, he’s just a dick. You know what he’s like,’ she brushed it away, shooting him a pointed look. Alright, if she didn’t want to talk about it, he certainly wasn’t going to go into it.
He stretched out his calf.
‘Oh, and thanks Laurel,’ he said, with an impish grin.
She exchanged a confused look with Rebecca. ‘For what?’
He was amused. ‘Those pictures last night.’
Rebecca’s wide eyes flicked between Laurel and Nate and her jaw dropped just a little.
Laurel turned pale. ‘What pictures?’
Oh, so she didn’t remember? Nate feigned shock.
‘Those pictures you sent when you got home, Laurel.’ He winked.
Laurel was unnaturally still. She obviously did not remember. Nate smiled, enjoying her discomfort way too much.
‘Oh, yeah, okay,’ she said quietly.
Nate tapped on his smartwatch.
‘Anyway, I’ve got to get back. See you on Monday.’
He took off down the hill, smiling at her horrified face.
Laurel
‘You. Sent. Him. Pictures.’ Rebecca said, jabbing her in the shoulder with each word. ‘You never send me pictures,’ she grumbled.
‘I didn’t send him naked pictures.’
Did she?
Oh god, please no. Drunk Laurel could be kind of an exhibitionist.
‘But before that, I need to know what happened with George Hibbert. Now, please.’ Rebecca wasn’t asking. It was a demand wearing the skin coat of politeness. Laurel quickly told her about George Hibbert being drunk and gobby, Nate pushing and Jack punching him.
Rebecca grinned. ‘So, Nate came to your rescue, knight in shining armour style?’
‘I didn’t need a knight in shining armour,’ she lied. ‘George would have gone after a bit. Besides, Robin and the boys were there too.’
But it had been nice, being pressed against his side, the evident concern in his eyes and of course, the restrained shove he’d given George Hibbert. She’d been his first priority, not beating the shit out of George, like Robin.
