Page 38 of Just My Type (The Boston Hearts #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

HANNAH

“ L et’s go, Gorgeous. We’ve got places to be.”

Hours after Noah and I ate like twenty tacos each and played a very fun game of share the shower, I’m sitting on the most comfortable couch in the world in Noah’s living room.

My laptop is in my lap and my eyes scan the screen, a little thrill running through me at the words I’ve written tonight.

Lots of words. Three thousand, to be exact.

Really, really good words. The best words, maybe.

Before I can snarl at the interruption, a bundle of fabric lands on the couch next to me.

Glancing over, I see a pair of my shorts and a T-shirt and look up at Noah standing right in front of me.

“What is this?”

Noah crosses his arms over his chest, and I’m momentarily distracted by his biceps.

I’ve never thought I was an arm girl, but for some reason Noah’s arms really do it for me.

All of Noah does it for me. With his messy hair and the low-slung athletic shorts and white T-shirt he’s wearing, he looks so good I kind of want to lick every inch of him.

But when I catch his eye, I see the I’m planning something look I’ve become intimately familiar with over the past six weeks or so, and I know my plan to devour him is going to be put on hold.

“Your clothes.”

“I can see that, but what are they doing here?”

“I ran up to your apartment earlier when you were on the phone with your sisters. You needed clothes because I’m taking you out.”

I glance at my phone. “It’s almost midnight. I was on the phone with Hallie and Jo like three hours ago.”

Noah rolls his eyes playfully. “Are you or are you not a card-carrying member of the night owls club? Almost midnight isn’t late, Han. Almost midnight is when shit starts to get interesting.”

“I’m writing. I can’t go out now.”

“You were writing. And I’m fucking proud of you. But you finished writing half an hour ago, and five minutes ago you finished reading over what you wrote.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “How do you know that?”

“I knew you were finished writing because you stopped typing and you got that little furrow in your brow right here.” He rubs his thumb between my eyebrows.

“The one you get when you’re trying to decide if you like what you wrote or not.

And five minutes ago, you let out this little sigh of relief and grinned at the screen.

That’s what you do when you’re finished and you’re happy with what you read. ”

I just stare at him. “How do you know all that? I’ve only written in front of you, like, twice.”

Noah just grins and shrugs. “I pay attention to you. Now, as much as I like seeing you lounging on my couch, wearing my shirt with nothing underneath it, we have places to be, so get dressed. I’m bringing snacks.”

I set my laptop aside and stand because he was right, I did finish, and also, he had me at snacks. “Fine, but not because you told me to. Because I really need a snack.”

Noah leans in and nips playfully at my bottom lip, licking it to soothe the sting before pressing his lips to mine. “I know. You have to replenish the energy you burned writing all those brilliant words you won’t let me read yet.”

I laugh against his mouth, enjoying the hell out of him. “Soon.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it.” He’s smiling when he kisses me again. “Now get dressed, Gorgeous. I want to spend midnight with you.”

“You brought me to the middle of the Boston Common?” With my hands on my hips, I glance around at the stretch of grass between the Carousel and the Soldiers and Sailors Monument, lit only by the dim streetlights that line the paths.

At this time of night, the Common is empty, the only sounds the lapping of the Frog Pond, the crickets humming, and the quiet din of late-night traffic from Beacon Street.

“I did.” Noah sets down the bag he brought, reaching in for a blanket and unrolling it on the grass. When I go to sit, he takes my hand, tugging me back up. “Not yet. We have an activity first.”

“What kind of activity could we possibly be doing at midnight in the Boston Common?”

Noah grins at me. “The very best activity.” He takes both of my hands in his, his face uncharacteristically serious. “I loved everything about today, Hannah. The beach, and all the things that came after.”

“Even my panic attack and subsequent spilling of my guts?”

Noah lifts my hand and presses a kiss to the back. “Especially that. It means a lot to me that you shared it with me. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

I squeeze his hands. “It was time. I still haven’t decided when I’ll tell my sisters, but telling you tonight felt right. I’m glad you were the first to know. I’m ready to let it go, and this felt like the right first step.”

“I’m so glad to hear you say that, because I brought you here for step number two.”

“Step number two?” I ask

Noah grins at me. “It’s time to release some of your rage.”

I consider his words, take stock of how I feel. “I don’t know…I’m not feeling all that ragey right now.”

“I know, but I think that’s a temporary state of being because of the orgasms and the tacos and all the words you wrote. I’m really good at orgasms.” Noah gives me a salacious wink, causing me to giggle. Jesus, literally giggle. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I kind of like it.

“Anyway, you told me earlier that you’re so angry, and you don’t know where to put it. I think that anger is just sitting inside of you without an outlet, and I’m no expert, but maybe that’s one of the reasons you’ve been having trouble writing.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you mansplaining my feelings to me?”

Noah lets out an exaggerated gasp that makes me laugh despite myself.

“I would literally never. If you want, you can tell me to fuck right off. You know how I love it when you scratch at me. But if you think that maybe you feel like letting some of that anger fly free, the time is now. I mean, the time can also be tomorrow or the next day or any day you want, but we’re here, and it’s the best time—the moment when today turns into tomorrow.

So, I thought you would maybe want to do it now. ”

“Do what, exactly?”

Noah grins at me and pauses dramatically. “Primal scream.”

I snort out a laugh. “I think I need more information.”

Noah laughs too, wrapping his arms around my waist and tugging me closer to him.

“It’s simple, really. You stand here in the dark, spread your arms wide, and scream as loud as you can up to the sky.

Then, if it feels good, you do it again.

And again. As many times as you want. I know it won’t take your anger away, or erase what Brett did to you, but for one night, at the most sacred time, you can let it out.

Anytime you feel like your anger is about to boil over, you tell me, and we’ll come here.

Some people ride at dawn. You and me? We scream at midnight. ”

I’m about to tell him that this is the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard, but he’s looking down at me with the cutest, most earnest look on his face, and to be honest, the idea of screaming my rage to the midnight sky holds a weird sort of appeal.

I shrug, pressing my hands to his chest. “Okay, I’ll do it. ”

“Fuck yeah, that’s my girl!” Noah leans in and smacks a kiss to my cheek. “This is going to be so awesome.”

Chuckling at his enthusiasm, I push him away a little. “Some space for my scream, please. I have a lot of rage to expel. I think I’ll need some room.”

Beaming at me, Noah takes a few giant steps back, running a hand through his tousled hair then spreading his arms wide. “On three?”

I nod at him, strangely anxious all of a sudden. “On three.”

“One.” Noah’s face turns serious, his eyes sparkling with intensity under the night sky.

“Two.” My voice is a little shaky, my stomach churning with nerves for no good reason at all.

“You’re the most powerful woman in the world. Let it out, Gorgeous. Three.”

I tear my eyes away from Noah’s for a moment that feels like it’s mine and mine alone.

Spreading my arms wide, I tip my head to the starry sky, take a deep breath, and let it rip.

My scream shatters the silent night, and it takes me a second to realize that the feral sound is coming from me.

It rises up from the deepest depths of me and flies straight into midnight.

The lock on the box inside me where I shove the feelings I don’t want to feel comes blasting off, and it all comes pouring out.

Every you fed the cat, right and what did we get my mom for her birthday and what’s for dinner and do we have coffee and the laundry basket is full .

Every doctor’s appointment I scheduled for him and all the things I looked for because he couldn’t find them himself and every time I abandoned something of mine to help him with something of his.

Every moment he made me feel small and every time he tore me down to make himself feel big.

Every day I thought he was all I deserved.

My seething resentment and being too afraid to ask for what I needed because I knew the answer would be no.

My towering insecurities, and the man who stoked them.

A cat I hated. A house I hated. A relationship I hated.

A life I hated. A man I hated. Trapped as he held my hands above my head and took and took and took pieces of me that I didn’t want to give.

Fake smiles. Manufactured cheer. Secrets from the people who love me most. Months of words I couldn’t write.

I scream and scream and scream some more until my throat is hoarse and aching and my shoulders snap back, my spine straight, my chin tipped up and head held high.

And then.

A city I love. An apartment that feels like it was made for me.

My sisters. My friends. A family that makes me feel like theirs.

A place that doesn’t feel temporary at all.

Fifty thousand words on a page and plans for fifty thousand more.

The man who somehow knew exactly what I needed and gave it to me, without asking for anything in return.

The man.

Lowering my gaze from the sky, it lands on Noah, and he’s looking right back at me. Soft smile on his face. Eyes for me and me alone. Sparkling pools of blue filled with feelings I can’t parse. Feelings my head doesn’t understand but that speak the language of my heart.

Mine .

I’m in motion before my brain realizes I’m moving.

Eight steps and I fling myself at Noah, and he catches me.

Arms around his neck and legs around his waist, holding tight, never wanting to let go.

His solid body and woodsy scent. The stubble on his jaw against my cheek.

The warmth of his neck where I bury my face.

His arms tight around me. Always, always tight around me as his thumb taps three times on my back. I tap twice on his, and I’m home.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice raspy from the scream.

He kisses my head and I’m warm everywhere. “Anything for you, Han. I would do literally anything for you.”

The words are simple. The words are everything.

And for the first time in a long time, under the midnight sky, I’m at peace.