Page 25 of One Day Like This (Excess All Areas 1)

“I’m sorry I put you in this position,” Izabel said.

“Seem to recall I put myself in this situation. On the tram, and not taking the out when you offered it. This isn’t on you.”

He glanced at her before looking for signs to the hotel entrance. She stared out of the window, away from him, rubbing her fingers across her lips mindlessly. And suddenly, he’d give anything for her eyes to be on him.

He placed a hand on her ripped jeans, feeling the smooth skin of her thigh beneath his calloused fingers.

Soft.

“We’ll muddle our way through this, Iz. I won’t let you down. From the moment we pull into the parking spot, I’ll be the most attentive and perfect boyfriend.” She had no idea just how easy it would be to pretend. The tough part would be maintaining any sense of boundaries so they could go their separate ways again on Sunday with his heart in one piece.

She smiled and looked over at him. “I don’t need you to be perfect, Matt. Nobody’s perfect. You just need to make us seem happier than Harry and Bitch-face.”

Wouldn’t be hard.

Matt had seen the glimpse of remorse in Harry’s eyes on the tram. Hell, if he’d been a betting man, he’d guess Sophia had told Harry he needed to set Izabel straight. Furthermore, he’d bet a hundred quid it was Sophia’s idea to come to the wedding with him too. Nothing said insecurity like not letting your new boyfriend attend a family event you weren’t invited to without you. So, no. It wouldn’t be hard to create a better illusion than the reality Harry had landed himself in.

He pulled into the hotel and found a spot to park. Izabel reached for the door, but Matt reached for her hand and stopped her. “I meant it, Izabel. Whatever you need me to be this weekend to help you get through it. I’m there for you. Okay? You need me to hold your hand, I’ve got you. You want me to hold you close while we dance to some ridiculous Lionel Richie song, I’ll do it. You’ve got my full attention.”

Izabel slid her fingers between is. “I hate that Harry’s decision to bring Sophia means this weekend isn’t just about Gemma and Ollie. I want to be there for my friend. Fully. Without worry. It’s not fair to her for me to be anything less. But I’m also nervous. I don’t think I could have done this on my own.”

He tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at all the dainty little piercings than ran from her lobe to the top of her ear. Tiny little studs, slender chains, and a Manchester bee. There was a fragility to them, just like Izabel. “You won’t have to. I’ll run interference; I’m good at that shit. You just worry about Gemma and making sure her wedding goes smoothly. It’ll be my pleasure to look out for Harry. You’ve got this. Okay? Pull up the big girl undies.”

“I haven’t worn big girl undies since I was fifteen.”

Matt huffed. “The last thing I need to think about is the size of your knickers.”

“If you were really my boyfriend, you’d want to know all the things about my undies.”

Izabel grinned in his direction, and Matt groaned. “Enough, Iz.”

“Thank you,” she said. The tip of her tongue ran over her lower lip before she bit down on it. “For all of this.”

“My pleasure. Remember, you have more of a right than Sophia to take up space at this wedding. You’re bridesmaid number one. Don’t let her push you back into the shadows. You don’t belong there.”

Reluctantly, he let go of her fingers and stepped out of the car. The evening air was still sultry and humid, unusual for England, even in summer. But it was fresh, unlike the fetid smell of petrol and bodies in the Northern Quarter.

He popped the boot of the car open and reached for all their things. “You leave anything at home in your wardrobe?” he asked, hauling out Izabel’s large suitcase and suit carrier.

“Cheeky,” Izabel warned.

Matt grabbed his own things, a large tote bag, and his suit and shirt on hangers and managed to precariously balance them so he could tug, carry, and nudge everything to the check-in desk.

“I’m capable of helping, you know.”

“I know. But years of hauling all our gear up and down the country has taught me a thing or two about hotel check-in Jenga.”

Izabel grinned, her cute dimples flashing for him.

Fuck, she was pretty.

He was still focused on her when the employee on the desk called out his name. “Mr. Palmer?”

He tore his eyes from Izabel and looked at the young woman.

“From the Sad Fridays?”

He glanced at her name badge and nodded. “The same, Naomi. Check-in for two nights, please.”

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