Page 6 of London, Love, & A Little Something Irish

Joel: Temple Bar. Obviously.

Carlos: We’re literally in Dublin. Did you think we wouldn’t go to Temple Bar?

Joy: We HAVE to take cute pics!!

Me: I volunteer as tribute for photo duty!

Liam: I’m leading the way. Please try to keep up.

Joy: No one asked you to lead.

Liam: I was born to lead.

Someone knocks on the hotel room door and shouts, “Dublin awaits!”

I laugh, about to tuck my phone in my pocket when my phone buzzes again—this time, it’s from my mom.

Mom: Hope you’re having fun, sweetie! Can’t wait to hear about your trip.

Ugh. I’ve got a guilt suitcase I’ll be lugging around. I type out a very enthusiastic reply (lots of exclamation points and emojis) and promise to call her tomorrow. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m a terrible daughter.

Joy grins. “You’ve got that overthinking face on again.”

“Do I?” I ask, slipping on my shoes.

She smirks. “Yup. You thinking about your mom?”

“Maybe,” I mumble, pulling my coat on.

“Your mom is the sweetest person ever, Nat. She’ll forgive you.”

I sigh. “I know. I just wish I’d remembered. She deserves the world.”

“She does. She really is an angel wrapped in human clothing. But, since you’re here, let’s turn that frown upside down and hit the town!”

I shake off the guilt and get my stuff ready togo downstairs. “You ready?”

“Go on down. I’ll catch up in five,” she says, rifling through her bag.

I head towards the lobby.

The rom-com lover in me is particularly excited to visit Temple Bar. I honestly haven’t researched Dublin too much. I’m kind of relying on my friends (and my boyfriend) to set the agenda. But I did hear one thing: Leap Year was filmed there, and I am not missing my chance to see any locations I can. It’s one of the best rom-coms out there, and if there’s even the tiniest chance of my own movie moment… well, I’m not opposed.

Oh, and yes, in case you missed my very casual mention, Joel is officially my boyfriend now. We’ve sort of gone public, but it’s not like we’ve made any big announcements or blasted it all over social media. We’re also not big on PDA or even taking pictures together. And… am I still having second thoughts? Yes. Am I acknowledging those thoughts? Absolutely not. We’re sweeping allllll of those messy feelings under the rug and pretending I have Marvel-level superpowers that have made the rug (and everything beneath it) completely invisible. Problem solved.

Joel walks up, offering me a small smile. His hand grazes mine—then pulls away, not holding it. Not like someone eager to be next to me.

“Where are we going?” I ask Joel.

“Somewhere in the centre,” he says, eyes moving to his phone. “Everybody’s coming down now.”

“You look nice, by the way,” he says, casual like he’s commenting on the weather.

“Oh, thank you,” I reply with a small smile. It was nice of him to say.

I glance out the lobby window just as a guy outside pulls a girl into his arms, peppering her neck with kisses as she laughs like he’s the funniest person alive. My chest tightens. I’m a sucker for PDA—not the obnoxious kind, but the kind where the guy justhasto touch you, even if it’s just your hand. Just to be near you.

Joel and I aren’t really into PDA—not even hand-holding,which I amweirdlyokay with at the moment. Maybe I’m convincing myself this is enough. But a part of me is still waiting to be wanted like that.

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