Page 35 of London, Love, & A Little Something Irish

I don’t see a forever with Joel. I never really have. Seeing that message on Joel’s phone has shocked me into reality and figuring out what I want in a way nothing else could have. I’ve just felt too scared to let go of my comfort zone—even though I know it’s not where I’m meant to stay.

And for the first time, I let that realizationfullysettle into my bones.

I can’t keep ignoring the spark inside me when Nathan walks into a room. I can’t keep pushing my gut feelings under the rug. Because this—whatever this is—it’s not going away.

I’m a woman who knows what she wants, and for some reason I’ve allowed myself to bury my head in the sand throughout this time because I’ve been afraid. Afraid of risking my heart again, afraid of removing a comfortable thing in my life.

I exhale slowly. Joel comes back in five days. And I know exactly what I need to do.

14

Nathan

I shouldn’t have been so rude to Nataly. She was walking down the path outside Wembley SSE Arena, and the second I saw her, I felt it—like some kind of internalpull.

I’m pretty sure I have a Nataly radar now. I can pick her out of a crowd of thousands.

She was glowing, her hair flowing in the wind, sleek and straight. It caught me off guard. She almost always wears it curly, and I’ve gotten used to the way it bounces when she moves, the way it matches her energy: light, effortless,alive. But tonight, she looked different.

I wanted to run my fingers through it.

She smiled when she saw me. Full-on, beaming.

When is shenotsmiling?

And what did I do? I barely muttered a “hey” before walking right past her. Like she wasn’t the one person I’ve been thinking about all week.

The streets outside the arena are packed with people movingtoward the train station after the final session. Women in groups, chatting, their laughter spilling into the cool night air. Music is faintly humming from inside, the bass thrumming beneath my feet. The energy is electric, but I feel detached from it, like I’m moving through fog. It’s been a long day and I’m exhausted. I’ve been serving on guest relations, so I’ve been driving some of our guests around all day long. I’ve been driving since 7am, and it’s now 9pm and I’ve just finished my last lift.

I exhale hard, rubbing a hand over my jaw.

I should have saidsomethingto her. Anything other than that cold, clipped ‘hey’. But I didn’t. Because I haven’t texted her this week.

I’ve been texting herconstantlythese past few weeks. Finding excuses. Searching for reasons to keep her talking. And every single time my phone lit up with her name, I felt this stupid, uncontrollable smile take over my face.

Until last Saturday. Until Jerome told me. We were at GBK, just a group of us guys, laughing too loudly over burgers and shakes. My phone buzzed on the table.

Nataly.I didn’t even think before smiling.

Jerome caught it immediately. "Ey yo, Irish, who’s got you smiling like that?” And I see a smirk on his face.

I shrugged, keeping my cool. "It’s nothing. Just this girl I’ve been chatting with.”

Jerome raised an eyebrow. "Nah, nah, bro you don’t get that look over ‘just a girl.’ Show me.”

“It’s Nataly, if you remember her?” I pulled up her WhatsApp photo, turning my phone toward him. The second he saw it, his whole expression shifted. His brows furrowed. His mouth pressed into a thin line.

Something was wrong.

"Bro…" He hesitated. Jeromeneverhesitates. "I’m sorry to tell you, but she’s taken.”

My stomach dropped. “What?"

"Yeah. Remember Joel? The guy we went to Barcelona with?She’s dating him." His voice was cautious, like he didn’t want to say it, like he already knew how much it would gut me.

I stared at him. "She hasn’t told me about him." The words felt hollow, like if I said them enough times, they’d make sense. "Why hasn’t she said anything?” I knew there was something going on between them in Dublin, I could sense it. But it’s been months, and we have been texting a lot recently. I thought maybe whatever was going on between them was done by now. Come to think of it, it makes sense that it’s normallymetexting herfirst. But I can tell, she’s not been trying to brush me off. I would’ve gotten the hint. But she’s always replying like she wants the conversation to carry on.

Jerome sighed. "I don’t know, bro. All I know is that they don’t look all lovey-dovey. I don’t know what’s going on there, but… you probably have a shot. You might just have to wait it out.”

---