Page 7 of Just My Type (The Boston Hearts #3)

CHAPTER FOUR

NOAH

W e broke up.

I know there’s a whole lot more to what Hannah just told me, but those three words are the ones I latch onto.

“You broke up with your boyfriend?” I blurt out, with absolutely no tact at all. I would be disappointed in myself if the lack of tact wasn’t so predictable. I am who I am.

Hannah looks at me strangely. “Um, yeah?”

“When?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Like, a month ago, maybe? I’m surprised you didn’t know. Everyone else did.”

I think about the look Elliot and Jordan gave each other earlier tonight when I mentioned Hannah’s boyfriend, and I’m now sure that look was about the fact that Hannah does not, in fact, have a boyfriend, and they didn’t tell me because they thought it would be more fun not to.

Assholes. For sure there’s going to be some sort of payback for that, but for now, I have more important matters to attend to. I swing around so I’m facing Hannah, crossing my legs and resting my elbows on my knees. “How do you feel? ”

She glances over at me and snorts out a laugh. “You look like a little kid waiting for story time.”

I grin at her because I’m suddenly thrilled with life. With Hannah and me and the fact that I’m sitting here with her in my favorite place at the very best time of the night and she brought the most perfect snack in the world, and she doesn’t have an asshole boyfriend anymore.

Everything is coming up Noah.

“I don’t want to know anything you don’t want to tell me. But if you do want to dish or, like, trash your ex or whatever, I’m your guy.”

She snickers. “Are you suggesting we have girl talk? Should we put on face masks and make girl dinner and talk about our favorite spicy romance novel scenes?”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling because she has no idea how close to home the picture she paints actually is.

“Let me tell you something. There is no guy in the world better at girl talk than I am, and I freaking love a face mask. Do you think I got skin this pretty by chance?” I wave a hand at my face and get a shot of warmth when she laughs.

“And by the way, girl dinner is basically a charcuterie board, and I love those too. So many amazing snack choices, and all on one single plate. So, what do you think, Gorgeous? Want to dish?” I leave off the part about romance novels, and I’m hoping she doesn’t notice, because that’s one thing I’d rather keep on the down low for a while longer.

Hannah blows out a breath, turning to face me and crossing her legs too, her pose mirroring mine and her face going just a little serious.

Our knees are almost touching, and between the dark and the silence of the city after midnight, it kind of feels like we’re the only people in the world.

Like maybe, just for tonight, magic really does exist.

“I wouldn’t think I would need to trash my ex to you.” Her words are quiet, and even in the dark, I can see the flush that spreads across her face, like she didn’t mean to say that. Like she’s embarrassed that I saw what I saw, even though there’s no reason she should be.

Testing her, I run a single finger over the back of her hand and am entirely delighted when she doesn’t yank it away.

“I’ll be honest, Han, I’m not that guy’s biggest fan.

Not after the way I heard him talk to you.

After the way I saw him put his hands on you.

And I don’t think that’s the only time he did it. Am I right?”

Hannah’s face shutters at my reference to the day she showed up at my parents’ house with bruises circling her wrists. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

Her voice is jerky and just a touch panicked, her eyes looking everywhere but at me, the same way they did in the back hallway at the bar three years ago.

I reach out, taking one of her hands in mine.

“Hey.” I keep my voice deliberately soft, even though her sudden mood shift has my stomach clenching at the thought of what else that asshole might have done to her. “Look at me, Gorgeous.”

When she doesn’t, I put my free hand under her chin, lifting her head until her gaze meets mine.

The haunted look in her eyes makes me want to put my fist directly through her ex-boyfriend’s face.

But the uncharacteristic flash of violence is tempered by a rush of tenderness that makes me want to wrap Hannah up in my arms and tell her she’s brilliant and beautiful and safe right here with me.

That as long as she’s with me, no one will ever touch her again.

With me .

I like the sound of it, but not now. Not yet.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me. And I know you have your sisters and Amelia to talk to, but if you ever do want to talk to someone else, you could talk to me. I was serious about that, and I’ll always keep your secrets.”

I can see the moment Hannah’s mask comes back.

The choice she makes to unwind her hand from mine and cover her vulnerability with her habitual cloak of sass and sarcasm.

I can’t say I’m not the tiniest bit disappointed, but now that I’ve seen a little slice of the real Hannah Evans, it makes me even more determined to peel back her layers.

I drop my hand from her chin and wait for what’s coming.

“Jesus, Noah, that little speech was real romance novel shit.”

She really has no idea. I grab another Oreo and reach around Hannah, reclaiming the peanut butter jar. “What can I say, Han? I’m a romantic kind of guy. Especially after midnight.”

I pop the Oreo in my mouth, and Hannah looks around the patio. “I think after midnight is my favorite time of the day.” Her voice has a contemplative tone, like this is the first time she’s realizing this thing about herself.

“Night owl?” I ask, grabbing her Sprite can and taking a sip through her Twizzler straw, and how fucking cute is that?

I grin internally when she scowls at me.

I love that scowl. I also like having my lips on the Twizzler, right where hers were.

It’s entirely possible that I’ve moved past attraction and straight into obsession.

Life comes at you fast.

Hannah shrugs. “I never used to be. In college, I always scheduled the earliest classes I could because I worked best first thing in the morning, and that carried over into my working life too. After, like, three or four in the afternoon, I was basically useless.”

I make a face. “Early morning classes are so gross. So, what changed?”

She leans back on her hands, her eyes a little hazy, like she’s remembering something that makes her happy. “I decided to try writing a book.”

I school my face, trying not to show her how interested I am in the direction of this conversation. “It must have been hard to do that while you were working.”

She smiles. “It really wasn’t. I mean, I had no clue what I was doing, or if it would be any good, but it was like I had this idea I couldn’t get out of my head.

I was working full time, so the only time I really had to write was at night.

I would get home and decompress for a while, then open my laptop and write until I couldn’t see straight.

Then I would go to sleep and do it all over again the next day.

I think I wrote my entire first book after dark, and I loved it.

When it was just me and my laptop on the couch in the dark, it felt like I was the only person awake in the entire world.

I know it sounds crazy, but it felt like I was the most myself during those late nights.

Like, for the first time in so long, I had something that belonged only to me. Something no one else could touch.”

Hannah looks at me, embarrassment crossing her face.

“Sorry, I kind of got carried away there. I guess that’s a long-winded way of saying that, at some point, I turned myself into a night owl.

I can still appreciate an early morning, but for the past couple of years, I’ve been a creature of the night. Just me and my laptop in the dark.”

I smile. “Same.”

Hannah furrows her brow. “You and your laptop in the dark?”

“No, me as a creature of the night.” I laugh, enjoying the shit out of her.

“Isn’t that kind of par for the course? I figured any doctor who did a residency became a night person.”

“Maybe, but I was a night person years before I became a doctor. I always hated going to sleep as a kid. My brothers would be long asleep, and I would still be bouncing around the house, coming up with every excuse I could to stay up. It drove my mom insane.”

Hannah laughs. “I bet it did. With four boys, I bet she was practically crying for some alone time after you were all asleep.”

“She definitely was, and I was always the one who foiled her plans. She never forced me to go to sleep, though. I think she knew it would be useless, and Pam Wyles never fights a battle she can’t win.”

“So basically, you’ve been fighting sleep for thirty years?”

I chuckle, reaching for another Oreo. “Pretty much. It comes in handy when I’m on call in the middle of the night. And…other times.”

“Like when?” Hannah asks, her eyes alight with a sort of curiosity that tells me she’s actually interested in this conversation, and I decide to take a little chance.

“Like when I run into a pretty girl on the roof in the middle of the night and we share snacks and secrets.”

Something flashes in Hannah’s eyes that looks almost like interest. It’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment, but I didn’t blink, so I definitely didn’t miss it. I give the universe a mental fist bump because fuck yes .

Hannah sets her mouth in a stubborn line. “I haven’t told you any secrets.”

I narrow my eyes at her playfully. “Haven’t you? I mean, you told me you broke up with your boyfriend.”

She rolls her eyes. “That was, like, the farthest thing from a secret that I have. Literally everyone knows.”

“Well, I didn’t know, so it was a secret from me.”

“But I didn’t know you didn’t know, so I don’t think it counts as one of my secrets.”