Page 44 of One Day Like This (Excess All Areas 1)

Izabel sat up in the chair and smoothed her hair down. Her smile was weak, but better than the forlorn look of earlier.

Matt parked next to Luke and killed the engine before stepping out of the car. “Good weekend?” Matt asked as he heard Izabel’s door shut.

Luke studied the two of them. “Yeah. Good reminder of why I’d never want to live in London. You need a second mortgage to buy a round of drinks. How was the wedding?”

“Good,” Iz said. “Gemma looked lovely. I can show you pictures later.”

Luke huffed. “I’ll take your word for it. Everything okay with Harry?”

“Think it helped I was there, right, Iz?”

Izabel nodded mutely.

“Party went on forever. Barely had any kip before housekeeping was turfing us all out,” Matt said quickly to smooth over the awkwardness. “Let me get your bags out.” He hurried around the back of the car and lifted her cases to the ground.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Izabel said, mustering some cheeriness to her voice.

But her eyes.

Man, they called to him. Tugged at his heart in a way he found impossible to suppress. He wanted to press his palms to her cheeks and kiss her and reassure her everything would be fine.

But he couldn’t convince himself, let alone her. He felt as though his insides had been sent through a blender.

“You’re welcome. It was fun. Especially Glenn and the gang.”

Izabel did laugh at that. “Only you would enjoy sitting at a table of older ladies.”

“Got stuck with Gemma’s grandma’s church ladies.” He glanced over at Luke, a pit forming in his stomach. The idea of lying to his friend was a lot easier to handle than the reality. “They seemed to think Izabel should have ironed my shirt.”

Luke’s tense stance loosened. “Had to throw out my ironing board cover because Iz managed to burn it. Wouldn’t trust her with a shirt.”

Matt laughed because it was expected, but it rang hollow in his ears.

“Right. Well. I hate you both and am going inside.” Izabel tugged her case towards the apartment entrance. She paused and glanced over her shoulder, the sun catching her hair and turning it to gold. “Thanks again for taking me.”

Taking me.

The softly spoken words tore through him.

He wished he could have helped her through the door, carried it upstairs for her. But Luke would have noticed. Instead, he pulled his own bags out and locked up the car. “Fucking knackered,” he said.

A few more minutes and he could disappear to his flat and get his head straight.

“It’s going to take me another hour to finish with the van and shower. I wondered if you wanted to start thinking about songs for the next album. Figured I could come up later if you were free.”

Internally, Matt groaned. He needed some space between the two Brysons. Enough time to settle his feelings for Izabel before Luke was in his space. But it would look weird. Matt always said yes when it came to music. “Sure. Maybe give me a few hours. Need some shuteye after that drive on limited sleep, and for both our sakes, I should shower.”

“Sounds good,” Luke said, dipping the sponge back into the soapy water.

It didn’t.

But somehow, he’d use what little time he had to bury his feelings for Izabel.

8

Izabel stood at the gate to the apartment building and looked at the growing pile of boxes on the curb.

“Please,” she urged the gruff delivery man putting yet another box on the pavement. “Look, I don’t know what caused the mix up, but these should have been delivered to the shelter, not to my home address. I don’t even have a car. I’m happy to pay for your time to take them on to the shelter.”

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