Page 31 of Just My Type (The Boston Hearts #3)

Hannah attempts to look casual, but I can see the pain in her eyes, mixed with fury. An incandescent, slow burn rage. The type that this asshole deserves. “Scroll up. You’ll see.”

I do what she says, too angry to appreciate the fact that she’s letting me into this corner of her life.

One I know she hasn’t opened up to anyone else.

My eyes scan the screen, taking in Brett’s texts, stretching back months.

Little phrases here and there jumping out at me.

Things like, you’re nothing , and you belong to me , and silly little girl .

And a memory hits me out of nowhere. Looking up, I lock eyes with Hannah.

“You hear his voice in your head. When you’re writing. ”

She looks surprised, her hand tightening over mine. “How do you know that?”

I flip my hand over, lacing our fingers together. “You told me the night we got drunk and married. At the karaoke bar. You said every time you sat down to write, you heard his voice and then you couldn’t write a word.”

“God, drunk me really did let it all hang out.”

I click off the phone, setting it on top of the cooler beside my forgotten sandwich, then take Hannah’s other hand, trying to keep my rage under control. Rage isn’t what she needs from me. She’s had enough of that. “Is it true?”

Hannah closes her eyes for a second, and when she opens them, I can see the conflict. How hard it is for her to talk about this. But she does it anyway, and pride fills my chest for her.

“Every word. It’s why I was having so much trouble writing.

It started during the last month before I came to Boston.

Things between us weren’t great, but that was nothing new.

Things between us hadn’t been great for a long time, and we had rough patches here and there during the time we were together, but it never affected my writing.

It was the opposite, really. It was like the worse things got between us, the better my books were.

I could write through anything. It was like as soon as I sat down at the computer, I went to an entirely different place, and nothing from my real life could find me there. ”

“Until it did.” My voice is a little ragged, the thought of her so unhappy she had to escape from her life making my chest ache.

Hannah nods. “Until it did. It was gradual at first. I would struggle with a scene or a chapter here and there, and every time I did, it was his voice I would hear. The one telling me that what I was doing wasn’t important.

That it didn’t matter. After a month or two, I started struggling every single time I sat down at my computer, and his voice got louder.

Then, it happened all at once. The words dried up, and I couldn’t find them no matter what I did.

Brett’s voice was living rent free in my head, and even thinking about my computer made me want to curl up into a ball of misery. That’s when I came to Boston.”

With bruises on your wrists .

I think it, but I don’t say the words. She’s flayed herself open enough for me today. She’ll tell me about the rest when she’s ready.

Instead, I stroke my thumbs over her wrists. Over the space where the bruises were, imagining I can erase the memory of them from her head, even though the marks have long since faded. “I’m glad you came to Boston.”

“Me too.” Hannah gives me a small smile, so much emotion swirling in her eyes.

“I never thought I believed in all that universe stuff, but Cece was right. I needed to be here. I needed this time with Jo and for Amelia to become a part of my life. I needed your family and all of its chaos. I’ve spent so much time trying never to need anything.

But I needed all of this.” She locks eyes with me, her hands tightening around mine. “And I needed you.”

I take a sharp breath in, her words hitting me right in the chest, and suddenly, she’s too far away.

“Come here,” I say roughly, holding my arms out.

Hannah hesitates for a second before getting up off her chair and sliding onto my lap.

I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her close.

She leans her head on my shoulder, pressing a kiss to my neck that makes me shiver.

Her skin is warm against mine, and she smells like sunscreen and the hot summer sun.

I run a hand up and down her bare back, and there has never been a more perfect moment in the history of time.

There is so much I want to say to her. That I needed her too.

That I never want her to leave. That we belong together, and I’ll never let anyone or anything hurt her again.

But I don’t say any of those things. Not yet.

Instead, we just exist, pressed together in this stolen slice of time, until she breaks the silence between us.

“I just want to make sure you know that when I say I needed you, I don’t mean because I can write now and I couldn’t before.”

“I know, Han.”

She sits up on my lap so she can look at me.

“But do you really? Because you give me so many words, and I think I haven’t done a very good job of giving you any.

You make me feel like I can just be me, that who I am is enough.

And you’ve given me more fun in the last couple of months than I’ve had in years.

I know I can be prickly and kind of an asshole sometimes, and my resting bitch face is strong, but you are the best person I know.

And if I have to be accidentally married to anyone, I’m glad it’s you. ”

I laugh, wrapping a hand around her neck to bring her lips to mine.

The kiss is slow and deep, my tongue teasing Hannah’s mouth open to sweep inside and tangle with hers.

She sighs into it, her hands cupping my face like she wants to keep me close to her, and I’d happily live right here for eternity.

My free arm circles her waist and draws her more firmly against me, my hardening cock caught between us.

I really should put a stop to this before I accidentally fuck her right on this beach, but nothing could take me away from this kiss right now.

It’s the most perfect kiss there ever was.

“This is some kiss,” Hannah murmurs against my mouth, taking the words right out of my head.

I laugh again, nipping at her lip and swiping my tongue over the spot when she gasps.

“Fuck yeah, it is. We’re fire, Gorgeous.

” She leans back and I study her, lips wet and puffy from kissing me and cheeks pink from the sun.

Hair a windblown tangle, wavy from the ocean salt.

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, and I’m so fucking glad you get to be mine. ”

I pause, my eyes on hers, wondering if she’ll object to that little bit of possession, but she just raises an eyebrow. “Yours?”

I stroke a finger over her cheek and down her throat, resting it on her pulse that’s fluttering wildly. “Mine.”

Hannah’s eyes flash, her lips turning up in a sly smile. “I’m pretty sure you haven’t made me yours quite yet. But you could. If you wanted to.”

“Shit,” I mutter, crashing my lips to hers in a hard kiss. “I want. Fuck. We’re so far away from home. Why did we have to drive so far from home?”

Hannah giggles. “Fantasy number six. Car sex.”

I cup her face, drawing her head back so I can look at her.

“There is no way in hell I’m fucking you for the first time in my car.

The first time I sink inside you, it’s going to be in my bed, where I can spread you out and lick every single inch of your perfect body that I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of all day.

Where I can make you come on my tongue and then my fingers, until you’re dripping wet and begging me to slide inside you.

I’ll do exactly that, and Hannah, it’s going to feel so good. Do you know why?”

She shakes her head slowly, her green eyes filled with heat.

I slide my hand down her face and over her neck, between her breasts and lower, where I trace a single finger over the soft skin just above her bathing suit bottom, loving the hitch in her breath, the way her stomach muscles contract.

“Because I think you were made for me. I know I was made for you.”

Hannah doesn’t say anything for a long moment, the heat between us building to intolerable levels before she finally speaks.

“How fast can you drive?”