Lockdown on London Lane [PUBLISHED w/ WATTPAD BOOKS]

Part 1: Getting to Know You - Chapter 3

Nate is clean.

Objectively, this is a good thing. Especially during a pandemic. When I got here yesterday, I breathed a sigh of relief. It's never attractive when you're picking your way through sweaty, dirty socks, old takeout containers, and a layer of grime clings to everything. It really puts a dampener on the sexy mood you've been building so carefully.

However, it's also not particularly attractive to be told to take the hair out of the plug in the shower, and have the guy lurking in the doorway to make sure you do it properly.

"You're a neat freak," I tell him.

In the handful of hours into our week of quarantine, I have lost count of the number of times he has sighed. Because I didn't use a coaster for a cup of tea. Because I put an empty glass on the floor, and again because I forgot about it and kicked it over, spilling water on the rug. Because I made a sandwich, and got crumbs in the butter, and on the counter.

"And you're sloppy," he bites back. He turns away, muttering under his breath, "Glad I'm not stuck at your place."

I know he didn't mean for me to hear that, but I bristle, glowering at his back. So what if the walls in my place aren't a nice, boring shade of magnolia, and maybe have a couple of damp spots under the wallpaper in some rooms? Mr High-and-Mighty who probably dusts the skirting boards and doesn't have a single expired product in the fridge...

I pull a few faces at him, but decide not to say anything. I probably shouldn't pick a fight with Nate, when he's being generous enough to let me stay here for the week.

(Not that he's got a choice, but he has been very decent about the whole thing.)

(He also let me order some extra clothes on his credit card, and told me he wouldn't take any money off me for the food delivery order he managed to get. Which was really sweet of him, actually.)

I hear Nate filling the kettle in the kitchen, and stick my head in.

"Go on, then."

He sighs, shaking his head, but gets an extra mug out to make me some tea, too. I blow him a kiss and retreat to the living room. I throw myself down on the sofa, opening up Instagram to see if there's anything new in the last six minutes.

"Remind me what you do?" he asks me, once he's back in the living room. He sets the tea down on coasters on the table in front of the sofa, and gives a pointed look at my feet. I tuck my knees up to make room for him, but immediately put my feet back in his lap.

"I'm a primary school teacher. And you work in project management at a bank, right?"

Nate looks genuinely surprised I remember, and runs a hand through his blonde hair. It's not so neat now, but it's fluffy and it's a cute look on him. So are those grey jogging bottoms, actually, now I think about it...