I narrowed my eyes. “And how much did that masterpiece set you back?”
He turned it over, studying it like it was priceless. “Can’t remember. Fifteen pound, maybe?”
I dropped my head into my hands with a groan.
But I told you, that’s London. It makes even bad decisions look like love. It seeps into everything and sprouts from everywhere.
Rory, Goldie, and Daisy, after snapping a few more pictures with the Eye in the background, bounded over until they were standing by me.
“I love this city,” Goldie cooed. “I can’t believe you can call this place home.”
“It has its perks,” I smiled, masking the only reason why coming back here was actually breaking my heart. “But oneof them isn’t the tourists who are just constantly lost and have no social awareness, so let’s get a move on.”
“Where to next?” Jess asked as he brushed up beside us, the group back together.
My shoulders lifted. “I don’t know. I kind of want to take you all to the places that remind me of you.”
I wanted to take Jess to Camden because I just knew he’d find so many vintage clothes that he’d never, ever stop thanking me. The girls would love Notting Hill, and I knew they’d spend hours visiting every stall on Portobello Road that we’d probably sell them out. Finn… well, I was in two minds about whether to just leave him on an open-top bus tour and come pick him up when it was over.
As I looked over at all my friends, I smiled—until I looked in the gap between Jess and Daisy, my eyes finding our big shadow.
And then this weird thing happened. My heart jumped.
It had done a lot recently. Wasn’t sure if I was dying at first. Until I noticed that it only happened when I looked at him. Happened again just now.
This wasn’t the reason Marcus had come to London. Chaperoning a bunch of college students was certainly not the most pressing matter on his to-do list while he was here. But something about him setting aside a day to do this made me smile every time I saw him hovering behind us.
I’d decided that going forward, he could be moody all he wanted, but I knew who lay underneath the black clothes andpermanent scowl. And that person was one I was starting to like more and more each day.
There was only one place I wanted to take Marcus, and that was the National Gallery.
But for now, I was happy to play tour guide for my friends.
It took another ten minutes to round them up, our next destination in sight, when all of them got distracted by Big Ben. Before long, I was waiting on the sidelines, my photo duties done, watching them have the time of their lives.
I don’t think we could’ve chosen a better time for them to be coming to this city. If it were raining, well, I’m actually positive that they’d still be having just as much fun. But it was simple: London thrived in the sunshine, as did its residents. The sky was the kind of cobalt blue that we rarely got, the trees were in full emerald bloom, and the sunshine made the Thames look… well, still brown, but more inviting than it did in the rain.
In short, everything was perfect. And I was happy to hang back and admire.
Just like the newest member of our holiday.
Marcus stood a few feet away, half in the shadows, watching the crowd more than the scenery. Not tense, just alert. That constant low thrum of awareness I was beginning to recognise as uniquely his.
I drifted towards him, my disposable camera in my hand.
“You not gonna get in one?” I asked, bumping his arm gently with my elbow.
He stayed leaned against the stone, and I joined him. His dark signlasses hid his eyes, but I assumed that he wasn't looking at me as he grunted. “I don’t photograph well.”
I huffed a laugh, staring at hime regardless. “You say that like we’re taking mugshots.”
Marcus didn't move. “Same principle. Face, name, digital record.”
I laughed softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I didn’t realise your identity was so secret.”
He shrugged, peering at our surroundings. “It kind of has to be with my company. I don’t think anyone outside of Romano really knows what I look like.”
“Really?” I asked, turning to face him slightly. “Why?”
