Page 48 of London, Love, & A Little Something Irish

He hears it. I feel the chuckle that rumbles through his back.

And for the first time, I don’t think. I just ride.

I sigh as I take in the beauty of London.

I’m going to enjoy the rest of this ride.

21

Nathan

I felt it when she relaxed on the bike. Just for a second. She won’t fall in love with riding overnight, but I love pushing her buttons. Pushing her to break free of her comfort zone.

A chuckle rumbles in my chest as her fingers loosen from their death grip on my jacket. But don’t get me wrong, Iwanther hands on me. So I push the throttle just enough to make her clutch me tighter again.

I grin.

Yeah, I like that.

We cruise the rest of the way to her dorm, the city shifting from golden-hour glow to the cool blue of night. By the time we pull up, the streetlights flicker on, casting a soft light on her as she swings her leg over the bike. She stumbles a little, and I bite back a smirk. Still getting her land legs back.

She tugs off the helmet, and the wind immediately catches her dark hair. The River Thames always makes the air sharper here,turning loose strands into a wild mess. Jacket on, helmet on her hip, hair flying. She looks amazing.

I want to see her like this again.

I cut the engine and swing off the bike. “So, how was that?” I smirk.

Her eyes are bright. “Terrifying. And amazing. I closed my eyes for half the ride.” She laughs, breathless.

“I could tell.” I chuckle, folding my arms. “And I could tell when you started to relax, too.”

Her mouth drops open. “I must be so easy to read, even when you can’t see me!”

She hands back the helmet and jacket. And for a second, I hesitate.

I leave in a few days. I know I should keep some space between us. Keep things slow. But now that Iknowshe’s available? Patience is definitelynotmy strong suit.

I want more time with her.

“Let me take you out,” I say, voice low. “During the day. Before I go on Saturday.”

I don’t want to overdo it. Doesn’t have to be candlelit romance. I just want to be with her.

She hesitates just for a second. And then, softly, “I’d love that.” She bites her lip again, gaze flickering downward.

I groan inwardly. She really needs to stop doing that.

“How about South Kensington?” I suggest. “Crepes and a museum?”

She smiles. “That’s a great idea.”

Our eyes lock.

And there it is again.

That heat she keeps trying to hold back. It flickers in her gaze, her breath hitching slightly as I step back.

I better leave. Before I forget why I’m trying to take things slow.

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