Page 16 of Waiting on You

“I worked with Marina, and Phoebe was my roommate. By default, their boyfriends and minebecame friends. Phoebe and Steve broke up a couple of months ago, and he moved, so nobody had to choose, but now, she’s dating John, and that makes things awkward since I’m friends with Marina, but I’m also the only one who lives in a different country.”

She sniffles back her cry, trying to be strong. “Marina said she didn’t know, but she can’t let this ruin her wedding, and since they were both invited, John asked if we could trade seats. Since Phoebe and Steve only recently broke up, Steve is still on the guest list, so I’ll be sitting next to an open seat so Phoebe and John can sit together.”

“Why even go?” I ask, hating to see her upset and wondering what kind of friends would put someone who’s just been betrayed in that position.

“Because I’m in the wedding and it will look petty if I don’t show up. Technically, Marina didn’t do anything wrong. She’s switching me and Phoebe so there aren’t any issues, and honestly, I’d rather sit next to an empty seat than with John, but…” She huffs. “I guess I was hoping Phoebe would do the right thing and not go. John and I are both in the wedding, but she’s not.”

“You already know they’re both shitty people,” I point out. “Neither of them thought about your feelings while they were together behind your back, so why would they consider your feelings now?”

“I know,” she says. “I just wish, for once, someone would put me first.”

Her words come out as a whisper, but they hit myheart like a bullet. If Paige were mine, I would put her first every goddamn day for the rest of our lives. She deserves for someone to think about her, to be there for her, to love her, but that can’t be me. I hate that our time is limited and that we can never be anything more than a London memory.

“It’ll happen,” I tell her, tipping her chin up and pressing a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. “Now, what’s on the agenda for today? You have over thirty hours before you need to think about that wedding, so put it out of your head, and let’s enjoy London.”

“I actually had an idea, but I’m not sure you’d want?—”

“Tell me. I’m down for anything.”

“I was thinking we could go to Bath.”

“The city? Isn’t it, like…”

“Two and a half hours by train. We could visit the Roman Baths, and they have the best tea and scones, and there’s this cute coffee shop?—”

“Hey,” I say, holding her chin so she’ll look at me. “If you want to get out of here, that’s all you have to say.”

“Thank you.” She releases a sigh of relief. “Phoebe’s checking in today, which means…”

“Which means we’re going to Bath. Give me ten minutes to pack an overnight bag, and I’ll meet you back down here.”

“Wait, an overnight bag?”

“If we’re doing Bath, then we gotta do it right. And that can’t be done in a day trip. Don’t worry. We’ll beback in time for your rehearsal and dinner tomorrow night.”

I shoot her a playful wink, and she smiles—a real fucking smile. And I vow to do everything in my power to make sure that’s the only smile she sports while we hang out.

“Okay,” she says with a glimmer of happiness in her eyes. “I’ll meet you back down here.”

After I pack a bag, I text my assistant to let him know I’m leaving and ask him to book us a room in the best part of Bath with two bedrooms and bathrooms. He also books us tickets to see the Roman Baths and makes a reservation for us at the best teahouse since Paige mentioned having tea.

Since I have no desire to ride on a train, I also have him charter us a private plane. It’ll only take about twenty-five minutes to get there.

“Umm, where are we going?” Paige asks when we step outside since we’re getting in my car instead of heading to the train station.

A burst of cold air hits us, and her hair whips around her face. She tightens her hold around her coat, and I open the door to the car I requested to take us to the airport.

“Bath.”

She glances at me suspiciously, but doesn’t comment on anything else.

The ride to the private airport is quick, and when Paige realizes where we are, she shoots me a quizzicallook.

“Mr. B—” the pilot greeting us at the plane begins, but before he can say my last name, I cut him off.

“Please call me Nate. And this is Paige.”

“Welcome aboard. I’m Ron Poole, your pilot today. It will be a quick twenty-four-minute flight to Bath.”

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