Page 41 of London, Love, & A Little Something Irish

I gasp in mock horror. “The Cheetah Girls. A Disney Channel Original Movie.”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Never heard of it.”

I clutch my chest. “I don’t think we can be friends anymore. Even if you would’ve never watched it anyway because you’re a boy.”

He laughs, and the sound makesmy stomach flip.

“Barcelona is beautiful. I’ve been once before, and I can’t wait to go again.”

“I’m sure. I’d love to see it. I’ve only ever been to Madrid, but I think I’d like Barcelona a lot more,” I reply.

“I think you’d love it. Maybe someday, we could go,” he says.

My heart starts pounding in my chest. I don’t want to get too excited that he may still want to explore the possibility of a relationship with me in the future, in case he changes his mind.

When we reach the tube entrance, I don’t knowwhatI’m expecting. A goodbye? A lingering moment? But then?—

Nathan steps in, and before I can process it, he pulls me into a hug.

I freeze. Not because I don’t want to hug him back, but because I wasn’t ready for how good it feels. He’s warm, steady, andsomuch taller than me that I have to tilt my head slightly against his shoulder. It’s quick, just a second longer than a polite hug should be.

When he pulls back, his eyes lock onto mine. “Think about what I said earlier, Nat.”

Nat.

The nickname lands soft but heavy.

He’s already turning to leave, hands in his pockets, disappearing into the city night like some unfairly attractive mystery novel hero. And I? I’m standing here, staring after him, wondering if I even deserve him to care this much.

Even if Nathan backs off entirely after this, if he never mentions it again, the one thing Idoknow is that I can’t keep dragging this out.

I have to break up with Joel. This week.

Because there’s no going back now.

17

Nathan

I meant it when I told her I was done pursuing her if she stayed with Joel. It wasn’t fair—to him, to her, or to me. And shegotit. She made it clear she wasn’t locking this away anymore. She said she’s breaking up with him.

And yet, here I am.

Walking the streets of London, replaying every second of tonight like my mind is stuck on a scratched record.

London buzzes around me. Car horns blare, voices spill from open bar doors, bikes zip past with the rhythmic whir of bicycle wheels as delivery drivers zip past, balancing bags of takeout. The city lights are overhead lighting up London, the scent of fried food and exhaust mixing in the air. But it all fades into the background.

Because all I can hear isher.

Her voice, soft and uncertain. Her laugh, bright like a fire in the cold. Her confession, hanging between us like an unfinishedsentence.

I should be heading back to the church crew. Back to normal. Back to pretending I’m not entirely wrapped up in a girl who technicallystillbelongs to someone else. But instead, I pull out my phone. My fingers hover over the screen for a second longer than they should before I type out the message and press send.

Nathan: Let me know when you get home okay.

“You good, man?” Eddie asks, catching up to me near the corner of where everyone is hanging out.

I shove my phone in my pocket. “Yeah. I’m good. Just sending a message.”

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