Page 73 of London, Love, & A Little Something Irish

“Oi, tudo bem?” I say again, this time to her dad as we shake hands.

I’ve shrugged my jacket off, and her mum starts off the conversation, leading us to the dinner table. It’s about dinner time, as I came straight from work today since it’s a Friday. I wanted to spend as long as possible with Nataly.

As we have dinner, Nataly and her mum both take turns translating back and forth between me and her dad. Unfortunately I won’t really be able to build a direct relationship with her dad this way, but at least there’s a way we can communicate. I’m thankful her mum speaks English.

“So, there she went, leading the entire school in the High School Musical dance in the fifth grade.”

Nataly groans. “Mom, we don’t need to tell him all of my embarrassing stories tonight.”

“You know you’re secretly proud of your fifth-grade self.”

Nataly grins. “That’s beside the point.”

“Nathan also needs to know that I’ve got plenty of cute stories about you,filhinha.”

“Cute, or embarrassing? The jury’s still out.” She laughs.

I can see Nataly takes a lot of her vibrant personality from her mum. She keeps conversation flowing, laughing with her mum, sneaking glances at me across the table. I can’t stop watching her. Can’t stop thinking how much I love the way she talks with her hands, how her eyes light up when she teases her mum.

We settle into the living room after dinner for a movie, and I sit beside her on the couch.

Too close. Not close enough.

I can feel the warmth of her body next to mine. She absently reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together. I press my thumb against hers, savoring every moment of contact.

By the time the movie ends, I’m aching to be alone with her.

I don’t want to let go. But I do.

Because she’s here, in her parents’ home. And I’m staying in the guest room tonight. And as much as I want to steal a few more minutes with her, a few more touches, a few more words—some things are worth waiting for.

I settle into bed and shoot her a text.

Me: Goodnight, beautiful. I can’t wait to kiss you properly tomorrow.

A second later, my phone buzzes.

Nataly: Goodnight, babe. I can’t wait either. ;) Let’s get up and head to the beach in the morning after breakfast?

Me: Perfect. I’ll see you in the morning.

I let my head sink back against the pillow, but sleep doesn’t come easy.

I’m so ready to finally be able to get off my chest what I’ve been waiting to say for so long.

The morning sun is still soft in the sky, casting a golden glow over the world as we step out of her building and into the crisp ocean air. The scent of salt clings to the breeze, the distant crash of waves filling the gaps in our sentences. I squeeze her hand, feeling the warmth of her palm againstmine.

All morning, the words have been pushing against my ribs, pressing against my throat, waiting to be said.

We cross the quiet road, the morning still slow with only a few joggers and dog walkers in sight. The wind tugs at Nataly’s hair, sending strands flying around her face. I can’t help it—I stop in my tracks, pull her back toward me and cup her face in my hands. Her skin is cool from the breeze, her eyes wide as she looks up at me, questioning.

Then I kiss her. Like I’ve been waiting to all night. Like I have all the time in the world, but not a second to waste.

She lets out the softest little groan against my lips, and something inside me ignites. That sound. It’s like she needs this just as much as I do. Maybe more. Maybe she’s been waiting just like I have.

I slide my hands to her neck, then tangle my fingers into her hair, pulling her impossibly closer. Her arms tighten around me, fingers gripping the back of my T-shirt like she never wants to let go. I deepen the kiss, pouring every ounce of feeling into it, hoping she knows. Hoping she feels everything I’m about to say before I even say it.

When we finally pull apart, her lips are pink, her breaths uneven, and her eyes are so hazy and dazed that I know I’ve wrecked her. And I love it.

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