Page 6 of Just My Type (The Boston Hearts #3)
He shrugs. “I mean, I’m up here at least a few times a week, and almost always at night unless I’m on call. Maybe we weren’t meant to meet up here until now.”
I scoff. “That sounds a little woo woo, don’t you think? And what’s so special about now?”
He gives me a lazy grin. “You’ve met my grandmother, right? It would be weird if I wasn’t a little woo woo from growing up with her always talking about the spirits and the universe and her being a little bit psychic. And now is the best time because it’s now.”
I choose to blow past his, now is the best time , my mind instead flashing back to the way Cece seemed to take my showing up in Boston in stride, like she already knew I would be coming here.
How Jo told me Cece made the guys promise to keep the top floor apartment empty until Cece decided to fill it.
The way it was set up, like it was waiting just for me.
“You’re thinking about it.” Noah’s voice is delighted.
He slides his hand over, grazing his pinkie over mine, and the electricity that sparks under my skin at that tiny touch has me snatching my hand away.
Noah’s grin spreads, like he knows exactly how that touch affected me and likes it.
“Come on, Han. It’s after midnight on the roof.
The perfect time and place to accept the possibility that magic exists. ”
I dunk another Oreo in peanut butter and take a big bite, mainly to avoid answering him. But then I answer him anyway. “I wouldn’t think a man of science like yourself would believe in things like magic and psychic grandmothers.”
Noah bumps my shoulder again, stealing another Oreo. “What can I say, Han? There are many sides to Noah Wyles. I contain multitudes.”
“Has anyone ever told you only douchebags refer to themselves in the third person?”
Noah laughs, and the sound is like sunshine.
Ugh. I’m more of a gray cloud kind of girl right now, and I don’t know why his sunshine boy personality is suddenly so appealing.
“I knew it as I was saying it, but it kind of just came out. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I don’t have much of a filter.
It’s like thoughts just run through my brain and straight out of my mouth. ”
My stomach drops into my ass as I remember another thing he’s holding in his head.
My heart speeds up at the memory of that night.
The one I’ve kept locked away inside my own head since it happened.
My face flushes with the shame that comes with knowing I should have told Brett to fuck right off that night and never spoken to him again.
With knowing that Noah knows I didn’t. That I hung on for three more years, and I have no one to blame but myself.
“I never told anyone,” Noah murmurs, somehow reading my mind. “Your secret is safe with me. All your secrets, Han.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, hating the relief that trickles through me at his words. Knowing that at some point later tonight when I can’t sleep and feel like torturing myself a little, I’ll examine the fact that I believe him immediately and without question.
“Thanks.” I’m trying for casual but I know I don’t quite get there when Noah gives me a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that is so damn cute I want to look away, but I can’t because my gaze is unexpectedly locked with his.
Noah reaches out, running the back of his hand down my cheek so softly it’s barely a touch, but somehow, I feel it everywhere. “You can talk to me, you know.”
I lean back slightly to break the connection. When he touches me, I can’t think, and it suddenly seems imperative to keep my wits about me.
“What would I talk to you about?” Again with the faux casual, as I contemplate the fact that, for the first time in a long time, I have to resist the urge to open my mouth and lay every secret I have right at this man’s feet.
Noah shrugs, and if he’s acting casual without actually being casual, he deserves a fucking Academy Award. “Anything. Everything. I’ll be honest, Han. I kind of want to know everything about you, and there’s no better time and place to tell secrets and truths than after midnight up on the roof.”
My chest squeezes at his words, and I don’t have time to tease out why before my phone dings. My stomach twists because there is only one person who would be texting me this late at night. When I pull out my phone and glance at the screen, my suspicions are confirmed.
Brett
What the fuck, Hannah? You’re just going to ignore me?
“Everything okay?” Noah’s voice has me jerking my head up from where I’m still staring at my phone. His eyes are filled with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
I sigh, shoving my phone back into my pocket. “It’s nothing. Just my asshole ex-boyfriend who can’t seem to grasp the fact that we broke up and has decided that the way to channel his disbelief is to text me, incessantly, at all hours of the day.”
I guess there’s something to Noah’s theory that the rooftop at night is the best place to tell secrets, because that’s the first time I’ve told anyone about Brett texting me.
I pause to consider how I feel about Noah having that small part of my truth, realizing that, for some reason I can’t quite understand, it feels exactly, perfectly, right.