Page 33 of London, Love, & A Little Something Irish

She seems like the kind of person who likes to follow the rules. But there’s this spark in her, this restlessness just under the surface. Like shewantsto break out of her comfort zone, but she’s not quite ready yet. I can’t help but wonder what it would take for her to take that leap.

Her phone buzzes then, and she glances down at the screen. For just a second, something flickers across her face—something I can’t read. Is it hesitation? Guilt? Conflict? I don’t know, but it leaves a shadow behind.

Whatever it is, it’s gone before I can figure it out. She looks back up at me with a small smile, but the moment leaves me wondering.

“Well,” I say, deciding not to push it, “you owe me a motorbike ride now.” I flash her a wink, going in for a hug.

She smells fruity and sweet, and it’s soher. It’s warm and bright, and when I pull back, the scent lingers on my leather jacket. I don’t mind at all.

She waves one last time before heading off, and I watch her go, my heart still racing.

I’m pulling my jacket back on and getting my helmet ready when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I take it out, and my stomach flips when I see her name.

Nataly: Maybe I will take you up on that ride someday.

I chuckle, sliding my helmet on with a grin I can’t quite shake.

Me: I’ll hold you to that.

As I start the engine and the familiar roar of the bike fills the night air, I know one thing for sure: I’m already counting down the days until thatsomedaycomes.

13

Nataly

I see him just as he sees me.

My stomach flips hard.

Nathan is walking toward me, weaving around the massive crowd of women in the Wembley SSE Arena, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.

It’s beendayssince I’ve heard from him. And now here he is, just walking toward me like nothing has changed.

I smile—too big, too obvious. “Oh. Hey!”

He barely glances at me.

“Hey,” he mutters. His voice is low. Gruff. He doesn’t smile. And then hekeeps walking.

I blink.Wait, what?

I actually turn around, watching his retreating figure, half expecting him to glance back.

But he doesn’t.

Nathan, the guy who always texts back immediately. The guy whonevermakes me feelinvisible.

Did I do something wrong?

My stomach twists. I want to call after him. I want to ask. But he’s already disappearing into the sea of people.

Weird.

We’re at Colour Conference, our church women’s conference. Bobbie Houston—the pastor’s wife leading it—is basically who I aspire to be like when I’m older. She is beautiful, walks with grace, but most of all is the embodiment of all things sweet. Not only is she sweet, she is strong. And I love that the two go hand in hand. You can be strong and still be a cinnamon roll. She’s got a sweet and gooey center and it’sbeautiful.

I’ve had such a beautiful time at Colour, my first one ever. One of the speakers shared her story of holding onto faith during a long wait. It was raw, real, and something in me ached—because don’t we all have something we’re waiting for?

We’ve got one final session this evening and it’s about time to go in.

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