Page 42 of London, Love, & A Little Something Irish

He eyes me. “To Nataly?”

I smirk. “You just always know, don’t you?”

“It wasn’t hard to see how much you liked her back at Tinseltown.”

“Yeah, man. She’s something else.”

“So what’s the story?”

I sigh. “Still figuring that out. One thing’s for sure though—I want to find out.”

He nods once, like that’s all he needed to hear. “Alright then. Don’t wait too long, man.”

I know I said I wasn’t going to talk to her anymore. I meant it when I said it. But if she’s serious—if she’s actually ending things—then I need her to know I’m still here. That I’mnotstopping my pursuit.

I’ll give her time. I have to. But waiting? Yeah. That’s never been my strong suit. While the thought of that makes my chest ache, I know it’s necessary right now.

I rub a hand over the back of my neck, my pulse still too quick, my mind still too loud.

There’s something about Nataly.

Beyond the fact that she’s been avoiding confrontation like it’s her full-time job, everything else about her is…uncomplicated.She’s the kind of person who finds joy in the smallest things: laughing at the most ridiculous moments, looking for something good in every situation.

As we’re settling in with our friends, I quickly pull my phone back up to read one of our most recent conversations that had me laughing.

Nataly: Nathan. Emergency.

Nathan: What happened? Are you okay?

Nataly: No. I just tripped over air on a sidewalk. And I fell.

Nathan: Oh no

Nataly: It gets worse. I didn’t just fall. I fell into the person in front of me.

Nataly: Full on rammed like a bull.

Nathan: I can imagine this happening

Nataly: And then it was a little like a domino effect. She stumbled onto her friend and I was trying to hold us all up and we just all ended up on the floor like pretzels.

Nathan: this is great

Nataly: I helped us all up, they had terrible looks on their faces, I apologized profusely and then ran off. I don’t know if I’ll ever live that one down. It might just follow me into my dreams years from now and I’ll feel horrified at my clumsiness all over again.

Nathan: Well, you make life more fun that way. Never know what you’ll do next

I love how fun she makes life.

She’s easy. Light. Effortless. She’s everything I’ve ever wantedin a woman.

And tonight, when I saw her—when she looked up at me with those wide eyes, her dark hair framing her face like a portrait—I felt it all over again. The pull. The sharp, aching need to be closer to her, to know exactly what she’s thinking when she looks at me like that.

I groaned inwardly the second I saw her outside church today. Because she looked… different. Her hair was darker than before, the kind of deep, chocolate brown that catches the light in the most maddening way. And it suited her—too well even. So well that all I wanted was to slide my fingers through it, tilt her chin up, andruinher lipstick with a kiss she wouldn’t forget.

I clench my jaw.

I need this trip to Barcelona. I need space. I need to make sure I don’t do that just yet. I don’t want to move too fast too soon with her. I’ll take it slow, even if every vein in my body stands at attention at the sight of her. Even if I don’twantto take it slow—I want to change her last name and I want our children to have that smile and easygoing nature she’s got. She’s the opposite of everything I grew up with. Storms and shadows aren’t her M.O. She’s pure sunshine to my dark, gloomy days.

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