Page 58 of An American in London

“Three weeks.”

He pushes his hand through his hair and shakes his head. “So you have three weeks left in London, then you’ll be in New York.”

I laugh because he’s repeating what I just said, and not because he doesn’t understand. Then the penny drops. He’s having trouble asking me out. “Do you want to hang out again? Just the two of us?” I ask. “Maybe ... ask me to dinner?”

He meets my gaze and nods.

He might be the most adorable man in the history of adorable men. I slide my palm up to his cheek and grin at him. “Good,” I say. “I’m going to say yes, because I want to hang out with you too.”

I expect to see a flicker of a smile on his lips, but instead he stays focused on the road ahead of us, sliding his hand onto my thigh.

Eventually he nods as if he’s been assimilating everything for the last few minutes. “Dinner,” he says. “Good.”

Adorable.

Chapter Twenty

My phone rings, interrupting a delicious dream I’m having about a very naked Ben, which I’m hoping is prophetic given I’m seeing him tonight for the first time since we came back to London. Squinting, I find the button to answer and then shut my eyes again.

“Hey,” I say, not knowing who I’m talking to.

“How’s my favorite Anglophile?”

“Melanie?” I ask, and I open my eyes. I haven’t spoken to her since before the weekend away, and we have so much to catch up on. “What time is it?”

“Time you were awake. There are sights to see, Daniel De Luca to track down. I have some intel. He’s on location, filming in Central London and staying at a hotel. Do you have a pad and paper?”

I sit up and glance around. Hotels always have a pen and paper somewhere, don’t they? “Hang on, let me find one.” I grab the flimsy pad of paper and pencil from by my bed and scribble down the name of the hotel where Daniel De Luca is supposed to be staying.

“I’ve missed you.” My old life comes tumbling back into focus. Sadness and relief mix in my stomach. “How are the girls?” I ask. “How were Friday night cocktails?”

“The same, and I don’t want to talk about them. I want to talk about you. How was last weekend? Did you pull off being fake-engaged to a stranger? How have I not spoken to you in five days?”

I hadn’t been deliberately dodging Melanie’s calls. Not exactly. The time difference is definitely a factor, but I know in my heart of hearts if I’d wanted to speak to Melanie this week, I would have found a way. Part of me—a big part—wants to keep this past weekend to myself. At least until I can make more sense of it all.

I grin. “It was great. The duke and duchess were so nice and welcoming, and it wasn’t as intimidating as I expected. I probably made a thousand faux pas, but everyone was kind enough not to mention them.”

“You’re hanging out with the British aristocracy, boo. If Jed could see you now, hey?”

I rarely thought about Jed over the weekend, other than how different Ben is from him. I was far more focused on Ben. There wasn’t much space in my brain left for anyone else.

The truth is, I don’t care what Jed would think of me here in England, or at all. “Catch me up on everyone. How’s Callie?” Melanie’s a part of me, but the other girls? I’m fond of them, they’re fun, and it’s always great to catch up with what’s going on in their lives, but I can’t say I’ve actually thought much about them since I’ve been here. It’s like they got washed away by the ocean on the way over.

“Well, Ginger thinks Michael’s about to propose.”

I’m genuinely shocked. They’ve been together five years, and there’d been no talk of marriage. “Really?”

“She’s just hit thirty and he’s nearly thirty-two. If they want to have kids, they better get on with it.”

“What, so you hit an arbitrary birthday and you have to settle down with whoever’s around? Dating as musical chairs—the music stops and you grab whatever’s left?”

Melanie pauses before she says, “It’s not like that. They love each other. They’re living together; they’re practically married anyway.”

“I guess. Except I was practically married to Jed, and look what happened there.” Ginger and Michael are a great couple. Just because Jed and I didn’t work out doesn’t mean they won’t. I’m not bitter either;I just see things more clearly now. Jed and I were a great couple in lots of ways. But we weren’t meant to spend the rest of our lives together.

“David spoke to Jed last week.”

I’m sure I should feel some kind of pain at the idea of Jed calling my best friend’s boyfriend, but I don’t. I don’t feel a certain way, but I’m not numb to it either. I’m certainly not in denial anymore.

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